Race identity for mixed race kids in America


Being a mixed kid wasn’t easy growing up.

My mother is white and Samoan. My father is Belizean.

I was born and raised in Tracy. I was one of two black children in my elementary school.

I recall having moments of prejudice against me when I was young. I got called the “N” word so many times in my life I am numb to it.

I shouldn’t be.

It’s hard for me to open up about this but I feel like still to this day I am too white for the black people and too black for the white people.

There was this particular moment in elementary school that opened my mind up to how prejudice people can be.

I was minding my own business playing when this girl walked up to me and asked if I wanted to play hopscotch.

I won. The girl got mad and said: “I can’t play with [n-words].”

That hurt my feelings, I remember going home and crying to my mom about what had happened.

Ever since that day I’ve taken caution with who I played with and who I befriended because I was scared that I would be called that word again.

In middle school I moved to Stockton. It was a total 180 compared to Tracy. My first day of middle school I was surprised at the diversity.

I thought I was going to be the only mixed child again. That wasn’t the case. It was a relief.

When I was in Tracy people thought I was adopted because I use to stay with my Caucasian grandparents all the time. I can’t fathom how frustrating it is to have people ask if you’re adopted frequently.

When I was younger I had a distorted image of myself.

Coming from a family like mine I always wondered why my hair wasn’t straight like my cousins or why I would get so dark in the summer time.

Over time I learned that’s how my body was by growing and seeing other people with similar issues. Now being older I’ve learned to accept who I am and what I have.

Children nowadays don’t have to go through the trouble I went through as a mixed child.

The world is so diverse but yet there’s still racism.