Posts in Editor's Picks
Parenting a Multi-Racial Child in A One Dimensional World on The Thirlby
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This post was first published in its original format here and here.

Several months ago I penned a think piece for The Thirlby entitled, Parenting a Multi-Racial Child in A One Dimensional World. This week, I was honored to see it in all its published glory and I'm even more excited to share it with you in its entirety! I urge you to visit Almila's amazing website in order to see the article as it was intended.


PART ONE

"Where did you get her?," "Is she yours?," "Is she adopted?"

These are just a few of the questions that plagued our first forays into the world with our daughter, Lo, in tow. I would be lying if I said that those microaggressions didn’t come as a shock and knock me, a new parent, off kilter.

In one instance, taking in the weekend and browsing a local art gallery with a toddler on my hip, I was hounded by a woman excitedly demanding to know which agency we had used and insisting that a) I shouldn’t be ashamed to tell people that my child was adopted and b) her friend “wants one just like that”. “Are you kidding me!?” I thought, as I bid the woman farewell and kept plowing through the world as the mother of a mixed-race child. Another time I watched countless concerned white women clamor, beside themselves with worry as my strapping black husband hoisted our fair-skinned three-year-old (in the midst of a tyrannical temper tantrum) into his arms, bee-lining for the exit of Target. I felt compelled to follow closely behind, even though his stride is much longer than mine, to assure them that yes, this man does have my permission to be leaving the store with his daughter.

In those first couple of years, living comfortably in the bubble that we had created for ourselves, not much thought went into the differences between us and our offspring. Hell, we were lucky if we could make time for the truly necessary things like cooking a warm meal, washing last week’s laundry, or sleeping. There was no room for ruminating on the complexities of race and the myriad of intricacies that awaited having a multi-ethnic child, nor were we equipped to help her forge her own racial identity in a world that places a lot of value on which box you mark during standardized testing.

Our daughter is six-years-old now and often talks about being “brown” 

She makes off-handed comments while playing with her dolls . . . most of whom are white because, on the sliding scale that is skin color represented by twelve-inch plastic dolls on the shelves of the toy store, white heavily outweighs brown and black. She casually talks about the color of her skin in reference to why she’s not quite like the other kids in her class. I don’t think she has yet to fully understand what goes into making her different from her peers but something tells me she’s on the cusp of identifying it. You see, it was easier to parent a child of multiple ethnic backgrounds until the age of six. There were few instances of racism, despite the fact that we spent these years living in the Bible Belts of Florida and Alabama. Nevertheless, at that age, few children even realize that they can be different from one another unless they’re home-schooled. I fear now, with Trump- era chats about racism taking place in the first-grade classroom and a clear divide echoing its way throughout the homes of our neighbors, that this time is coming to an end.

As the act of parenting trans-racial and biracial children becomes even more common, I realize that there is a huge lack of references that exist to dole out advice to eager yet naïve parents of all creeds. We’re left to wonder how best to navigate the knottiness that is the race-identity of school-aged children. How do we relate to and parent that which is unlike us? And with little help from the outside world, it seems.

Biracial identity development is something that’s been playing on a loop in the background of my thoughts for years. I’m aware that my child, as is the case of so many other children, faces specific challenges to which neither my husband nor I can necessarily relate. She is a unique mixture of ethnicity and identities that are completely foreign to our respective frames of reference. The 2000 census showed that there are more than 4.5 million married and unmarried couples in the United States of whom the two members were from differing racial or ethnic groups. (Hud-Aleem & Countryman, 2008). If the census were to come knocking on our door, Lo would fit squarely into the “other” category (she is parts African American/Caribbean, Pacific Islander, Asian, Hispanic and Caucasian). There are only two percentages that matter to me, though: … she is 100% human and 100% ours.

Because I am the mother of a multiracial child, I am tasked with the lofty ambition of raising a well-adjusted, confident child that who feels she is both understood and represented. One who celebrates the best of all of the cultures that came together in her making. It is my responsibility to make sure that she does not exist in a constant state of identity crisis, though I’m not sure anyone can protect her from that fate. I, with the help of my husband and our families, must teach her that love knows no bounds… not even skin color. I must take to heart that, as someone who is different from me, my child will have a different experience of the world and I won’t always be able to relate. I must trudge forward anyway. As I set out to accomplish this I will need to remember (and I urge you to remember) tips we will be sharing in the second part of the series.


PART TWO

Allow discussions about skin color

In a racially charged world it is often the gut reaction to shut down conversations revolving around skin color and racial identity. This instinct is wrong. A six year old is apt to notice differences in color, gender, beliefs, etc. and talking about those differences doesn’t breed racism. Instead it creates possibilities (in age appropriate ways) to truly understand the concept of racial identity, how the color of one’s skin impacts lives and opens up a healthy family dialogue.

Putting an end to these conversations does nothing for growth,… rather it renders the topic taboo and can only lead to more confusion. Instead of saying, “we don’t talk about that,” to a child questioning why mommy looks different than daddy, use that discussion as a vehicle to lean into your differences and explain how we are all, in fact, different and why that is such a good thing. The failure to acknowledge these differences, the differences between you and your child, breeds the erasure of identity.

While it would be easy to sit back and teach our children not to “see color”, I think it is a major parenting mis-step and does a disservice to multiracial children. The act of denying that color, colorism, racism, etc. exist in our world is one that’s especially damaging to the children of mixed-race identities. You cannot learn to accept something that you refuse to see. Saying things like, “I don’t see color,” to your children conveys that they are not seen. Being seen and being understood are basic human desires and by refusing to identify the things that make them unique, you are refusing to acknowledge their very existence.

Discourage words like “exotic”

“She’s so exotic,” is a phrase I’ve heard leave the lips of many a rogue commenter on the appearance of my child. Condoning the use of these kind of “compliments” (exotic, worldly, foreign, tropical…) only serves to further commodify, fetishize and dehumanize our biracial and mixed-race children. It teaches them that their value rests solely in their “otherness” instead of in their character.

Understand that mixed kids don’t represent the end of racism

Touted as beautiful and the aforementioned exotic, multi-racial children are hailed as the solution to racism. If I had a nickel for every time I heard something along the lines of, “In 50 years all kids will look like her and there will be no more racism,” I would be a very rich woman. Racism is not something that simply disappears because the most common skin tone changes. The end of racism must be endlessly championed. It won’t be eradicated solely by the existence of little girls with deep brown skin and blue eyes or little boys with kinky, curly hair and fair skin. There is a long journey ahead and it is paved with tireless discussion and brave actions, not breeding.

Having multi-ethnic children does not make you the antithesis of racism

You are not the beacon of hope for the future and are not incapable of exhibiting racist behavior simply because you had a hand in the creation of a mixed-race human being. You are not exempt from racism. You will need to constantly check your privilege and unlearn the teachings of a world that hasn’t always been inclusive. You are not done simply because your child is multi-ethnic.

Begin your lifelong education

As the caretaker of a child with ethnic makeup that differs from your own, you must take responsibility to understand your child’s identity as best you can. You must also realize that you’ll never have a full scope of what being made of your child’s unique mix encompasses. It is your job to ensure that your child is exposed to cultural experiences and at times, you will need to be a champion for experiences that are different than those you might have experienced growing up. This will require you to be in a constant state of learning about all of the factors that have come together to create your child.

Lo’s paternal grandma is Filipino, a culture I know very little about, so I’ve taken steps to understand the paradigm of Filipino cultural identity. Lo has visited the Philippines and we use the Filipino word for “grandma” (Lola) when talking about my husband’s mother. These are small actions that make a big impact on the way my daughter sees herself. I know that I could do even better across the board and will continue to work to understand the parts of my daughter that are different from me. I worry that there will come a day that she doesn’t feel “Black enough” or “White enough” or “Asian enough” et al but all I can do is equip her with experiences and references to the best of my ability.

Ultimately I know that she must choose her cultural identity for herself and it will likely be one different from my own. My goal is to equip her with everything she needs to make a decision that feels right for her. In this pursuit, representation is key - find biracial/multiracial/multi-dimensional role models, expose your child to with positive role models of all kinds and create a world of uplifting examples of greatness regardless of race.

In the same ways that you are, your child will one day be on a journey to ask life’s most basic question: “who am I?” Your role in your child’s life is to provide him/her with a frame of reference from which to answer that question. Parents of mixed-race/multi-racial children have the social responsibility to advocate for all aspects of their child’s racial experience and when it comes down to it the most important thing that you can instill in your child is that he/she is so much more than the color of their skin.

References

Hud-Aleem, R., & Countryman, J. (2008). Biracial Identity Development and Recommendations in Therapy. Psychiatry (Edgmont), 5(11), 37–44.

 

 

Where Have You Been? (We're Having A Baby!)
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You might have noticed recently that updates from me have been few and far between but I promise, it's all for good reason. We've been keeping a pretty big secret for the last fourteen weeks and I'm so excited to finally share with you that our family is growing! We're expecting a new addition on October 31st and we're already over the moon.

While we went back and forth about when to share, it was getting so hard to keep the news to ourselves. I found out at just four weeks and the last ten have seemed like the longest couple of months ever! We finally told Lorelai and our families on Easter (the Easter Bunny brought her the news) and shortly after, the whole island was in on the secret. We're learning just how hard it is to keep things on the down low when your doctor is your neighbor and it feels like a super small town. It's been such an exciting, tiring, wonderful, hard, emotional, happy time! 

So far, my pregnancy has been relatively easy. While I'm not a woman that's blessed with "the glow", it could have been much worse and I'm so grateful for the chance to lay low while I work on all of the different projects I have going right now. More than anything, I'm grateful to be on the tail end of the first trimester. It's been such a long time since I was pregnant with Lorelai that I had all but forgotten just how rough the first couple of months can be. Here's hoping my energy comes back during this stage!

Life on the island has presented its own unique challenges! For one, it's incredibly hard to crave things and have no access whatsoever to any of it. For a while there all I wanted in the whole world was a crisp green apple and it's been months since we've had any. We had a major milk/eggs/cheese shortage recently and that was also rough. Right now all I want is scrambled eggs and that's also a no-go. Did I mention there are no restaurants here and I cook three meals a day?! Don't even get me started on the sheer lack of anything drive-through (In N Out!) or made by someone else. Aside from food (which I could talk about forever), the healthcare situation is also unique out here. We do not have an OBGYN or the ability to deliver babies in the middle of the ocean. What does that mean for us? Lo and I will leave home behind in mid-July and make a pilgrimage back to Southern California. There will we stay, separated from Ainsworth (save for the drop-off and the baby's arrival), until mid-December. It'll be hard to be away from home (and daddy) so long but I'm also super excited to be a part of civilization again as well as spend time with my family, visit some great friends, and eat real food!! 

It's pretty safe to assume that blog content is going to shift a little (but not a ton). Over the last couple of years I've realized that this space is really more for me than anything. That said, I'm excited to share a lot of what's going on and chronicle our plans for the future but we're not going full-on mommy blog. So far I've shared Lorelai's childhood pretty sparingly and will probably do the same this time too. If you're interested in seeing things like my first-trimester essentials and routine check-ins, however, do let me know!

p.s. I just ordered my first pair of maternity jeans... lol shit's about to get real.

Reflecting on 2017...
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I've been putting this post off for a while (is February already right around the corner?!) because it seemed like a huge undertaking to look back at 2017 and honestly, a lot happened this year. This post kind of feels like one of those cheesy Christmas card inserts your embarrassing uncle always types up to share but, if you're interested in knowing what 2017 was like for me, here 'goes...

It seems like we all went through a pretty transformative year. With the current political climate being what it is, an endless stream of devastating news everywhere you look and an undercurrent of uprising afoot, how could we not?! The mood changed all over the world and, at the same time, I was going through some of the hardest stuff I've ever had to navigate in my personal life.

2017 was a period of crazy growth. Most of the year I could feel myself changing and stretching and breaking. There were high highs and even lower lows. Throughout it all, this space, and you, were there for me. Writing, sharing and snapping photos of our adventures gave me a sense of purpose and stability flickering faintly somewhere in the background.

The most obvious thing that changed for me this year was my mom's passing. It stopped me in my tracks and turned the whole world on its head. Grief and I became friends; we got to know each other well and I spent a lot of time in her company. I grappled with a sense of loss... not only the loss of someone close to me but a loss of self. I waded through a feeling of not knowing how to carry on or move forward in the world as a woman without a mother. I didn't recognize this person. I felt cheated and confused and raw. I still do. I'm someone who has always struggled with anxiety; social anxiety that felt crippling at times (like the time it caused me to drop out of college because I became so anxious about walking into the wrong class that I had to give up altogether) and anxiety about the trivial and the mundane. But this year I experienced anxiety unlike any I ever had. I lost my vision. I couldn't hear. I was catatonic. I had crippling panic attacks in mall parking lots. I was thrown off kilter. As we approach the one-year anniversary of February 10th I find myself apprehensive. Sometimes I feel weighed down by anxiousness but mostly, I just don't know how I'll feel when that date finally does come around. What will I do when the loss is no longer new? When I become the woman whose mom died two years ago? Five? Ten? Will the rest of the world move on while I'm still treading water? We'll find out together.

In 2017 my husband and I made a huge decision. On the heels of that loss, we packed up our life and moved halfway across the world. We settled into island life easily enough and although it has been a challenge, it has also been an adventure. I've talked about our move ad nauseum but for the sake of this recap, I'll say this: I'm in two minds about our little island. Part of me loves it. I revel in the quiet and marvel at the lazy breeze that rustles palm fronds during my evening walks with the dog. I'm amazed that we were given the opportunity to shake up our world like this. I'm grateful that Lorelai gets to paddle into waves and collect tropical shells on what might as well be her own private beach. The sunsets are unlike anything in the world. The other part of me is so homesick that I don't know what to do with myself. It's small, I mean REALLY small and you start to feel just how isolating it is when you need a friend or are missing the creature comforts of home. Island life can be inconvenient and simple things like dish soap are commodities to be hoarded and traded like gold among the locals. I'm also painfully aware that sometimes it feels like I'm running... running from a hard year and putting off dealing with the realities of life until later. Can I ever really heal when it doesn't feel like we're a part of the 'real world'? My two minds wrestle with each other for top billing but more than anything I take to heart how truly lucky we are to be here.

This year (not too long ago) I made a big leap of confidence in myself and I went back to school. I'm feeling empowered and fantastic about the timing. Being on our little island allows me to really put my head down and weed out all the distractions. I also feel vindicated in waiting as long as I did because I appreciate the opportunity to learn so much more now than I would have in my late teens or early twenties. I'm a big proponent of doing things in your own time and I'm happy to be doing this in mine.

In 2017 I changed the way I read blogs. Where I used to keep a pretty hefty blogroll of aspiration, I whittled down the sites that I regularly check to include only informative, inspirational and relatable content. I shifted my focus to things that really speak to my heart... blogs that share stories I connect to and are worthy of my time. Some reads, a lot of them dear friends, withstood the shift and others just didn't. I love visiting my sweet friend Natalie's blog (always inspirational and supremely real) and LaTonya Yvette (she has a way with words that I admire so much) as well as a handful of others. I tried, more toward the end of the year than ever, to make a similar shift with my own content. I opened up in a big way and wrote about a lot of really personal things this year. I began thinking of this space as an outlet to share parts of myself that have grown and matured over the last couple of years. I talked about racism (Let's Talk About Racism + 8 Ways To Help After Charlottesville), parenting after losing my mom, body insecurity, sexual assault in the wake of the #metoo movement and abortion. All of these discussions forced me to be vulnerable and I feel so much better for it.

I fell out of love with social media this year and I think a lot of you did too. I got lost in algorithms and the overwhelming illusion of it all just kind of killed Instagram for me. What started out as a fun way to snap and share pictures turned into a giant popularity contest and it got to be too much in 2017. Numbers started to matter more than ever, feeds became too curated and the pressure to post the perfect picture was deafening. I think a lot of you will agree that there's not much joy in it anymore. While I still love scrolling and keeping up with my favorite 'grammers, I'm not as into the whole thing as I once was. I recently unfollowed THOUSANDS (isn't that insane?) of people that were no longer sparking anything at all for me and I can't believe how much lighter something so simple made me feel. This year I'm committed to sharing if I want to, stepping away if I want to and, at the very least, not caring so much. It's just an app, after all. Instead, I'm much more interested in pinning lately! I like Pinterest because it feels anonymous and I don't really do it for the benefit of anyone else... just myself. If you want to, you can follow me there but I won't be checking the numbers and I think that's so freeing.

On top of all of that I took on two pretty big projects this year! I started writing for the Glitter Guide and am super excited to be a contributing lifestyle editor for a site that I've loved since the beginning. I remember following Taylor's blog (way back in the day) and being so excited when she announced her new site and I've loved following along since. It's so great to be a part of something that's run by an amazing group of strong women! In addition to that I recently started working for my absolute favorite bridal company, LOHO Bride, as an ETA and order management specialist. This new responsibility allows me to keep my feet wet in the world of bridal and again, I can't get enough of amazing female-run companies. The hustle is real right now!

At the very end of the year we took an AMAZING trip to Japan and Thailand. There's so much I want to share about it and so many pictures to pour through that I don't even know where to start. It's all a little overwhelming but the trip itself was one of those "high highs", for sure.

Looking back on the year is always a strange assignment... When you're in the thick of it, and days are flying by, your year never feels quite as grand as it does when you reflect on everything at once. 2017 was anything but boring and there's no way I could have predicted what might happen. It was only at the very end of the year that it became obvious... sometimes when things are falling apart, they're really just falling into place. This year I can happily say that I came into myself more than I ever have. I feel so unbelievably content in knowing myself better than I did prior and giving myself the freedom to have opinions and take up space. To exist as a woman in all of my glory without apologizing for myself. I've let go of a lot this year (good and bad) and I think it took some of the hardest hardship to get to a place of peace.

Here's to 2018... may it be far from boring!