I was filling out an online dating questionnaire when I got stuck on one of the Profile questions.
“What’s the first thing people notice about you?”
Which seems, on its face, ridiculous. Because I’m neither Other People nor am I telepathic. Can’t say as I’ve ever had a conversation with somewhere wherein I asked them, “Hey, what’s the first thing you noticed about me?” Just plain weird thing to ask a person.
Still, it got me thinking, and so I asked my buddy. And, friend that he is, he answered almost instantly, “Well, that you were black.”
Which wouldn’t have occurred to me in a million years. Well, maybe not that long, I bet almost everything would occur to you if you had a million years. You’d probably also be insane, so let’s just stop thinking about you, thinking for a million years, outliving pretty much everything, alone on a dead planet, wandering, praying for death.
But oh, the stories you’d have. Yeah, let’s just move on.
Being black. I know I’m black, don’t get me wrong, see me in the mirror at least a few times a day, making sure there’s nothing up my nose, no outrageous pimples, no crusties in my eyes. So it’s not as if the fact of my blackness comes as a surprise.
Also, you’d find, should you ever have the good fortune to meet me, that I am not shy about bringing up the fact, using it in a joke, so many jokes, really. Feigning righteous indignation, seeing racism where there obviously is none. Oh the laughs I get from making white folks vaguely uncomfortable.
And yet, the idea that the first thing that someone notices about me is that I’m black? I found that more than a little strange. Because, and this should shock no one, there are a few preconceptions about black people, more than a few of them negative. The thought that some folks would see me, or just see me online, and have preconceived notions about me because they see a Black Person, that’s odd and, I poutily thought, more than a little unfair.
At 32 years old, I have finally discovered stereotyping.
Which brings me to Barbara.
Barbara is not black. No. But she is half-asian, half-white. It’s that half-white bit that I find significant. Because (revelation time) I too am half-white.
And I think that’s where the weirdness comes from. In general and, in this case, specifically. I was raised mainly by kindly white folk, grew up in a whitish area (well, white and Persian, take that for what you will), went to a school with more than a few white folk, have mostly white friends, tastes and hobbies that are mainly considered of the white variety.
So, yeah, in a way, I do kind of forget I’m black, sometimes. When it comes to people seeing me, yeah, it kind of leaves the forefront of my thoughts. Or, rather, I think of it as but a part of my total make-up, a piece I can take or leave as I please. When, in fact, it is something that EVERYONE WHO LOOKS AT ME is instantly aware of.
And I wonder if Barbara feels the same way, if this is something common to folks from mixed backgrounds, that they are occasionally taken by surprise by the notion that people view them in starker terms than they view themselves. That folks, when they look at us for the first time, take a reductive position on us, based on our appearance.
So yeah, online dating? Weird stuff, man.
Comments
Micah Johnson
February 8th, 2010 - 7:10:59 AM
I'm 23 years, black, and I've lived in suburbia all my life. I graduated from a private school, however, I went to an all black church on the weekends. I had a variety of friends as well as a variety of interests. In whichever group I may have found myself, I had an immature understanding that I was the odd, black guy. Now, I have a nine year old niece who is half-white, half black. It's tough to know that she not only must deal with peer pressure, puberty, and all other "natural" traumas, but also the idea that she is part of a minority within a minority. I pray for her, I pray for us, everyday
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Alicia
February 8th, 2010 - 9:53:09 AM
Have you ever visited the south? It would be interesting to hear your impressions.
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Ginny.
February 8th, 2010 - 3:34:25 PM
As a girl who is half hispanic, half white I identify very little with the half of me who is white. I grew up around only my gigantic hispanic family. I spoke spanish from being little till I was 16. I grew up entrenched in the traditions, music, and hispanic culture. But most people when they look at me think white girl, because I stay out of the sun (I am not tan just pale olive) and I have bright green eyes. It's an interesting thing.
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Barbara Sueko
February 9th, 2010 - 6:06:50 AM
I do, Lou, I do. I didn't even realize I was something "other" until kids in elementary school pointed it out. I thought I was just me. Didn't realize that it was the minority half that counted, that I was actually different, aka Asian. It only got worse as I got older. I was always the token Asian in the group, perhaps making all the white people I hung out with feel more tolerant. Who knows? But I doubt it worked. I was dubbed the "Fortune Cookie," among other less favorable names. Too bad fortune cookies are fucking Chinese. Ugh. Bygones. On a side note, UCLA did a study in which they discovered that biracial people are typically considered more attractive because we are more symmetrical. Hah. Suck that everyone else.
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rfs
February 9th, 2010 - 9:50:44 PM
Well, I have a black grandfather, a Mexican grandmother and white everything else with a little American Indian pioneer wife thrown in and nobody believes me no matter what race I say I am. The important thing is that Lou is an amazingly gifted photographer and Barbara is soon to be a famous writer and that's all that matters in the end.
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