I’m Biracial.
Which did you notice first?
The me that looks like you or the me that looks like other?

There is no denying what I am—
from my last name to the shape of eyes,
you’ll know I’m not white.
But you’ll also immediately notice
I’m not quite not white.

I’m not quite not white enough.
White-passing.
“extremely” white passing until:
someone sees my last name
takes longer than five seconds to look at me
notices something “other” about me.

Other...
not one box to check on your
“optional” choose one diversity survey
Can’t check White. Can’t check Asian.
other...“Decline to Answer”

I’m Biracial. White-passing—
but not enough to stop ignorance
ignorance in the form of
questions and comments
meant to be “harmless” or “curious”
but ones that strip me of defining my own identity

“So are you a math Asian or a **** Asian?”
“You don’t look Asian enough for your last name.”
“Why are you trying to whitewash yourself for them?”
“Diversity quota”
And in comparison, those aren’t the worst things to hear.
By age ten I knew which words were meant to hurt
and which were meant out of ignorance.
Which racial slur applied to me.

I’m Biracial.
The same system that builds up half of me tears down the other half.
But— The model minority myth means something to you.
So you’ll build my other half up at the expense of someone else.

You’ll make me feel uncomfortable in my own identity
to fit what you need in the circumstances
Statistics to fit your workplace diversity quota
But still white passing so you can use micro aggressions as a joke
because I’m “white enough” that they should be funny.

I’m Biracial. Not other.
Not part you and part not you.
Not “missing” something.
I am wholly biracial.

I have the unfortunate belief that
my self-worth lies in the quality of my hair.
It may sound ridiculous, but it's true.

Go ahead, touch my hair.
I feed off of your fascination
-though I remain engaged only as long as you do-
my tolerance for my hair is equivalent to its length.

I once had someone tell me
"I like your hair better straight"
And that was when fifth grade ruined me.

I thought by changing they would accept me.
And Daniel would like me like he liked Taylor
and all of my likes would be returned and
Eddie would choose me because we were best friends
and I had the fortune of being beautiful
but I wasn't allowed to be beautiful to him because
I have this hair.

People wonder why I spend hours with an iron.
But when you're so different that
boys won't like you because your hair is curly
and you teeth are crooked you have no choice but to
change the things that are in your power.

I could never make myself fully white
But I sure as hell can straighten my hair
and let Mamaw buy me braces.
They can call you giraffe neck still,
but at least your hair is straight like everyone else.

Yes, you like to touch it and it's "neat" and it's "soft"
But why on earth should that matter to me?
People respect my hair because it is mine.
But he will not love it unless it is like hers-
wind-caught silk that hangs to her waist.

I weep for my hair.
I weep for my hair.

You do not understand how different it is.
You do not understand how hard it is
to stick out like a sore thumb because your
genetics were oppressed for 500 years.

I am ugly
Because of my hair.
No number of people telling me of its beauty will matter
because I cannot see it.

He cannot see it either.

my mother has blue eyes
but I'm still a ******
my mother has blonde hair
but I'm still a ******
my daddy is black as night
but I'm still a *******
my daddy has ***** curls
but I'm still a *******

I call this hash tag the struggle
because to be biracial is nothing
more
because to be biracial is nothing
less
than a struggle
to find who I am
to find who I should be
to find who I'm supposed to be

i really wish they were the same person
i really wish you understood hash tag the struggle
but you don't
and you won't

so stop telling me about my
good hair
and stop telling about my high
yellow skin
and stop telling me my parents have the fever
and stop staring at me when I
walk in
and stop trying to guess which parent is black
and stop trying to guess which parent is spanish

No

I'm not Spanish.

No

I don't speak Spanish.

No

You CANNOT touch my hair

Yes, my nose is in the air
Of course I think I'm the ****
Because I live my life trying to be better than women who are dark skinned ...with something I was born with
...out of my control
Of course I try to flaunt my plush lips around the white girls who get botox
who then become the have nots because I've stolen all the brothas hearts from the city and the boondocks

See you don't even know me
but you think these are my goals

see I call this hash tag the struggle because nobody understands the trouble in being whole
when you're given two halves
that don't match to patch up one soul
and you're born into a ****** up mess still expected to know

and they tell you to ignore them all
be yourself
race should not define you
but I can't even fill out two ******* boxes on a standardized test
because you are only allowed to check ONE to describe you

hash tag
**TheStruggle

the ******* conversation is
worse than no conversation
at all...

point being?

why bother, if lacking all
intricacy?
i hate acronyms...

jess glynne: right here...
or...
hasselhoff you tonight
(hold you tight tonight)...

zoe saldana...
in green?
she's not white...
Latino?
she's not black...
mulatto?!

d'uh...
what's wrong with me...
green skinned and i'm like...
tinges of lesbian feminist
librarian?!

         Ogle...
now why i would prefer
to **** a green girlie
than an Oreo?

              like one girl suggested
to me...
you're of the race that
does not have a protruding
occipital bone...

so...
why do most African
and Asian do not possess
the protruding
nasal bone?
     huh?!

you know... flat at the top,
meaning excess cartilage
at the base?
you know: gorilla sniff?
this is a two way street!

but gamora...
i can ****** well see she's not white...
but...
let's be "racist"...
i'd prefer to **** her green
than in her mulatto origin...
what?!

electric six: she's white!
you know how tremendous
brown eyes look against
a backdrop of green skin?

just like ginger hair dressing
the window-shopping mannequins
of Celtic milk-skin...

the actress is mulatto...
but me, i'm just tired of mixing
chocolates...
i feel like...
green skin... piglet shy pink boy...
let's make an avocado flesh baby!
tinged by canary-green-grape
overtones!

she's so ******* fit green...
disguising her mulatto
cocktail...
and that added feminism
pink tinged hair?
      absolutely no Afro...
you could mistake her
for a Latino...
         but i already knew:
that ***** ain't white...
and even i do not originate
from the white people with
a colonial past...

     i could succumb to
the whole trans-ethnic experiment...
by the way...
as biracial relationships go...
if her papa was a whitey...
she's going to go for a whitey
and reproduce...
guess what happens to her children?
come out from the oven
as white as silk...
and the ones who follow the route
of dating the similar ethnicity
of their mothers?
no children...

             if we're going to be so
******* anti-racial...
let's embrace the already stated
disparities entrusted to making
a post biracial choices...
the days of the originality
of bi-racialism are over...
let's call upon
regressive genes,
that, generations later
are awoken...
                
                                 no... too early?
oh, right,
how could i forget?!

these new people require
the bilinguals to be polymaths...
or to be monolingual...
and if they're not?!
well...
             schizophrenics!
schizophrenics!
                schizophrenics!

­you do know that globalization
would have worked...
if and only if...
the general population spoke
their native tongue,
and a lingua franca
was established...
given that the globalists didn't
exactly focus on establishing
a consensus lingua franca...
one year it was english,
another year it was arabic,
another it was mandarin...

hello white boy: she's green!
i'd still prefer to ****
the green ***** than than the mulatto;
what?
i'm tired of chocolate!
of the caramel and the toffee,
and the copper skin debate!
she's green... i'll just think
of a hard-on via a glass of absinthe!

and we'll make sweet avocado
babies!
after all...
i am a shy pink of a pig's skin tinge...
i am sure i can make the green
shy away, into a hints
of canary...

monolingual biracial "peoples"...
as ever... too proud to learn
a second language,
while all the more eager
to label mono-racial people
with a bilingualism trait...
"schizophrenics"...
guess... that there are mongrels
either side...
but that some of us...
abstracted the mongrel stature...
but not like you'd notice.

My father is black and my mother is white
And though we live in a new generation I still find myself having to give explainations on how all of this works
The ignorance of race really hurts
No this is not good hair
No you can't touch it keep your ******* hands to yourself
No I'm not Mexican or Puerto Rican
Stop guessing above all else
I'm black like you
And I'm white like her
I'm flesh and blood not claws and fur
But see you don't want to accept me
Of course unless I'm president Obama or Halle Berry
Did you know they were mixed?
Or were you so deep in the lime light you don't care
Because on the streets I'm not considered black no matter how coarse my hair
I use relaxers too
I've had my hair braided
I've been called ******
I've been followed in stores
I've been sent to the end of the line for no reason
Denied friendship for seasons
And wouldn't you know
(Being black was the reason)
But its just not enough to gain any trust

I don't look anything like white people so I dont even try
Only hope for full acceptance from the other side
And yet still I'm left feeling quite empty inside
Where the hell do I fit in?
Who's on my side?
Since claiming black or white is considered a crime

This was when I decided to become an advocate of self
I found who I was
Didn't need any help
I don't let my race define who I am
But I embrace both my colors
They work well with each other
And that's something society just will not understand

White skin
Black blood
Devil's curls
Eyes that pierce

You couldn't pick me from the crowd
And say that I was black
But I'll be **** sure, you're aware of that

I've got a chip on my shoulder
With a furrowed brow
And vendettas whispered from the graves

Silence was compliance
Now I'm screaming loud

dis here speech addresses all colors
this speech addresses all colors

try to appreciate life
try ta appreciate life feel me?

try ta respect everyone
try to respect everyone

yo maybe eved try ta love people
maybe even try to love people

tis be what i done been learnin' in stationary treatment  
that's what i've been learnin in stationary treatment

if ya don't embrace such values
if you don't embrace such values

try at least tolerating others:

you's black, white and biracial brothers
your black, biracial and white brothers

don't forget you's sisters
don't forget your sisters:

black, biracial, white

24 hours be made of day and night
24 hours are made of day and night

ya feel me?
do you understand?

every man be a mister
every man is a mister

every woman be a lady
every woman is a lady

racists are lazy
racists be lazy

since they don't want to understand "others"
since dey don't finna understand "others"

lovin', tho, be de best mood to make it trough dis state that we call life.

loving, though, is the best mood to make it through this state that we call life.  

from me to you:
from me to you:

MUCH COLORBLIND LOVE

i'm biracial
no i'm not an oreo
no i ain't your zebra
i ain't the best of both your worlds
i ain't mulatto either

i am white
and
i am black
living my life with a sense of inequality
my race always seems to follow me
no matter where i'm at

white people have jokes
black people have questions
my hair appeals to some of you
while the rest of you have suggestions

who said i needed you to tell me who to be?
who said i needed to explain who i really am underneath?

striving to be normal and thriving to be equal
i just so happen to be a white girl
that knows what it's like to be black
and that bothers a lot of people

my race may not define me but it is apart of who i am
so yes i get offended when you refuse to understand

that i am what i am
black and white
white and black
light brown complexion
***** curls front to back

a strong black woman resides inside and it's she you see
a white woman is there but will never be
but i never deny my lines culturally

because they are me

babies

2. biracial hair

3. seeing my mother in love

4. the smell of nail salons

5. praise & worship

6. ny-is-thegoal

7. perfect execution

Love rests his arm against mine.
Together, we make cinnamon sugar.
Mixing metals,
In the unity of silver and gold.

My grandma doesn't come to Christmas dinner anymore
I still remember the last Christmas she showed up to
She told me I was her favorite grandchild
While I'm flattered that's kind of ****** up grandma

So I asked her why
And I don't know what I expected but certainly not
"Because you're my only grandchild"
You see it hit me then that the reason I'm her favorite
Is because she doesn't claim the others

Because her son , my father
Married a white woman
While her daughter , my aunt
Married a black man
And they had her grandchildren
And they had her great grandchildren
But to her they are not family

And it was suddenly clear to me
Why my cousins never came to a single Christmas at my house
So now you're wondering
If my biracial cousins never showed up in the first place
Why did she all of a sudden stop coming

Well it's about 20% because she's old as **** now
And 20% because my brother is adopted
And his two biological sisters come to our Christmas now
And they all have different dads
One white , one black , one Hispanic

And 20% because my brother is engaged to a Muslim woman
And they have the most beautiful tan skinned baby together
And 20% because my other cousins married Asian men
And have you seen a half Asian baby
Because they're ******* adorable
*******

And finally 20% because our Christmas dinner table kind of looks
Like a small scaled globe
With ham on one side , rice on the other ,
and nachos somewhere in between
And we're all sitting together
With all our different shades of skin
And my grandmother does not accept
Anyone's shade but my own
But her own

But we are all beautiful
And we are all family
And there is only one race at my Christmas dinner table
And there is only one race in my world
The human race
And I wish my grandmother could see it that way
I wish the world could see it that way

I wish the world was more like our dinner table
Because chips and salsa is the best appetizer
Because rice is the best side dish
Because loving everyone no matter what they look like
Should come easy
Loving thy neighbor
Loving thy ******* family
Should come easy

And maybe that's why my Christmas looks the way it does
Because we have all been discriminated against
But never at my mothers house
And that's why even though we are not all blood
We are all considered family

I laugh at all of our Christmas cards
While grandma flinches at the sight
But that's fine
Christmas is not about receiving
It's about giving
And my blood family has given many others the chance to be one of us
I hope one day the world looks like my dinner table
And I hope there's nachos
I really hope there's nachos