[REDIRECT]

i moved my website to lindsaygranger.com
please take note.
it's way awesome-er.

adventures in ambiguous ethnicity.

best. flavor. ever. 

Most people who see me think I'm Latina, North (or East) African, or from the Caribbean. Rarely is the automatic assumption of a stranger that I'm a Black American with two Black American parents and 3.5 Black American grandparents. It's super annoying to have people automatically speak to me in Spanish or Arabic, but I get it. My skin is definitely on the lighter side and, combined with hair that is more 3B than 4C, confusion about my race is inevitable. It is obvious that I have a multiracial heritage, but that doesn't mean I'm not Black. It just means that the mixing that almost all Black Americans with slave ancestors have in their background is more evident in me than in others. It's genetic, and that's pretty much it.

Well, to me, at least... But when the people who assume I'm not Black are Black, things can get a little complicated and a lot awkward.

This is what happened with my watermelon Jolly Rancher.

The setup: My office's secretary is Black, and she has a candy dish on her desk. Last week, it was filled with Jolly Ranchers. I went to snag a few and noticed that the only ones left in the dish were grape and watermelon. I joked: "Grape and watermelon? This is the Blackest candy selection ever!" I laughed. She gave me the side-eye. I took four watermelon Jolly Ranchers and scurried back to my desk.

My joke referenced the stereotypes that all Black people like watermelon and grape-flavored foods. It's the type of joke I make with my Black friends all the time. They know I'm Black and think it's funny. Now, I don't know what race my secretary thinks I am, but I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm racist.

I didn't feel the need to go back and tell her I'm Black, too... but maybe I should have? See, I never know how to react when my racial identity is questioned by people who share it. This is a really sensitive subject for me because this has been questioned for my whole life. When I was younger, it was rough. I would cry when people would tell me I wasn't Black, so I just started telling people I was multiracial. It was easier, but never felt correct. The more comfortable I got with myself, however, made me more comfortable to just not care what other people thought of me (racially and otherwise). My Mariah "not Black enough for the Black people" Carey baggage that I carried up until college has given way to a more 'you can't define me for me' type of attitude.

I like it better, but the situation is still the same. I'm still judged based on appearance and often feel the need to explain myself when I talk about race in ways that are only acceptable within the group. I don't want to have to go through my family tree every time I want to make an off-color comment, nor should I have to. At the same time, however, I understand the feeling of discomfort that Black strangers (or just people who don't know me on a personal level) have when I make racial commentary. There is both an historical legacy to consider, as well as this new hipster racism thing that makes some (White) folks think it's cool to make racist jokes because, you know, we're in a post-racial society and we have a Black president. In other words, I think that the side-eye from the secretary was totally warranted, but still super uncomfortable.

(Umm, am I the only one who feels like I'm writing in circles... ??)

This isn't a very easy issue to sum up nicely, nor should it be. Race and ethnicity and identity and stereotypes are messy subjects to contend with because they are so deeply personal to those most affected by them. I know people in my life (hi, Dad) who would completely disagree with both my anger with explaining my genealogy and my understanding of people who are uncomfortable with my commentary. But they aren't me, and I am not them. I'm a Black American who isn't always immediately identifiable as such. It is what it is.