“What are you?” They ask. It’s as if saying ‘human’ isn’t the correct answer. “Burnt.” “Caramel.” “Yellow.” “Not so black.” “Definitely not white” they say. They call us, these words as if we have no connection to the human spirit at all. Why must we, as people of racial ambiguity, always be called out? Shut down? And even looked down upon?
Racial: Of or relating to race or difference in race.
Ambiguity: Doubtfulness or uncertainty as regards interpretation.
Racial Ambiguity: Difficulty defining a person’s race, usually in mixed ethnicities.
It’s not bad to be curious? You just want to know. Right?
The assumptions, the staring, the name calling, the strangers asking, “Is that really your mother/father?” That’s what bothers us, the constant reminder that we are not of one race but multiple ones, the reminder that we are so easily judged by our skin color, the reminder that whether or not our skin is lighter than the other determines how far we make it in our lives. Unfortunately, the truths that are held to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, are limited in many parts of this great nation.


Mixed races are not uncommon in our society, we merely look them over and continue to go our own way instead of facing the truth. Mixed races started in slavery. The One Drop rule, they called it. If anyone of your ancestors five generations ago were black, you were considered black. White Men Masters. Black women slaves. Do the math. It’s an ugly truth, but someone has to face it. And now, even in the 21st century, people don’t understand why anyone would ever want mixed children. Abomination. Aversion. Anathema. Who would want to be one of these?

Racial Ambiguous citizens must constantly face these judgmental thoughts, while juggling our daily lives. But we must also remember to be ourselves. Whether you feel white in your bones, or black in your soul; we all see the same sky, feel the same rain, see the same sun, touch the same sand, taste the same salt, and hear the same birds. What am I? I’m me.