Raising a Biracial Child in Today's World
Words by Christina Sims / Photo by Vivid Photography
Grey (British English) or gray (American English) is an intermediate color between black and white. It is a neutral, achromatic color, meaning literally that it is a color “without color,” because it can be composed of black and white. -Wikipedia
I grew up in a small, rural town where I was typically the only ink spot in a white papered classroom. It was hard not seeing many that looked like me; even harder being the token black girl asked to explain Black History every February, and the absolute worst being the girl that was undateable because their parents didn’t allow interracial dating.
Fast forward to college. I was excited for a new start in a diverse pool of students where I would no longer be labeled as “the black girl.” For the first time, I felt like I had a real chance to exist for more than the color of my skin. That was short lived. Suddenly, I noticed a new pattern. The black men that I had encountered called me “white bread” or they had preferred to date white women. I was labeled “too white” because I spoke differently, did not know many rap songs as I was not exposed to it, and even was ridiculed for never watching the BET channel as that was not a station offered by my local station at the time. The white men on campus weren’t interested either in fear of parental approval. Needless to say, my self-esteem took a hit yet again. Not black enough for some and too black for the rest was a recurring theme of my life. That would continue to be the case for the next five years.
In my final year of graduate school, I met a man named Justin. Justin had encountered the exact experiences as I had only in reverse. He was a white male considered too urban for white women and too white for black women. Even though we were polar opposites and many would consider us to have been as the wrong race according to our behavior not fitting classic stereotypes, we immediately clicked. For the first time in my life, color didn’t matter. However, dating was still no cake walk let me tell you. Despite interracial relationships becoming increasingly popular, to see a black woman with a white man was not the norm. Going in public places, particularly ones with older people, both black and white, was like living under a microscope. A microscope being looked into with a sea of disapproving eyes.
We later married in July of 2017, solidifying our love. As much as I’d like to say we went on to live the fairy tale happily ever after, I’d be full of crap. That’s for Disney movies! Reality hit and I learned quickly that marriage not only reveals a lot about two people, but also really reveals a lot about yourself. My husband is six foot, blue-eyed, and in great physical shape. As I’m sure you assumed, he receives quite a bit of attention. He also was the only one among his friends to marry a black woman. The irony is most of his friends are black men. So when I learned he would be asked, “Why a black woman?” - or my personal favorite, “Aren’t they always angry and bitter?” - once again my self-esteem took a hit.
Even though my husband never went a day without calling me beautiful and expressing his love for me, I couldn’t help but ask myself, “When on Earth did black women fall so low on the totem pole in terms of being desirable and why?” Here I was a thirty-something Christian woman with an MBA, a home, a great job, and I cooked! And yet somehow in the eyes of many that still wasn’t enough because at the end of the day, I was still a black woman.
I learned shortly before Christmas in 2018, I was expecting our first child. I was overwhelmed with joy, but equally overwhelmed with fear. How could I raise a biracial child in a world so focused on color? How would I raise them to love and appreciate half of a race that has often brought me hurt or obstacles?
With each day that drew closer to birth, my fear turned to determination, and my determination turned into appreciation. I grew an appreciation and a love not only for my growing blessing of a baby, but also for the realization of my own self worth. Best of all, I would be gaining the opportunity to teach my child to see the world not in black and white, but in shades of gray.
On August 30 of the following year, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy whom I named Greyson. As I held my precious baby, my heart never felt more full. All the trials and obstacles had come full circle and my world had a greater purpose: to be the best mother I could be to this biracial child that one day he will learn he is the representation of two people, one black, the other white, but with a colorless love.
About the Author:
Christina is the creator of Mom Meets Life, where she helps fellow mompreneurs find the balance between motherhood and business while equipping them to build their side hustles into sustainable income.
