In answer to the Day 1 Question “When Did You First Realize You Were Black (or X)?”

One day I was told I was black….. 

I am bi-racial. Black, white, german, Wisconsinite, woman, whatever. My momma’s white, my sister’s white, my brother is black, my other brother is also bi-racial. When I was very young, I never paid attention to the fact that I was black. It was never a subject in my house. I just knew I didn’t like the show “Roots” because of the black slaves.  In my head I kinda looked like my blond, blue-eyed, very German mother, just with a tan and black curly hair or something. Or maybe I thought she was black too. If I was black and she was my mom, then she was black too, right? Transative properties. The concept of skin color never meant anything to me, in my rainbow of a family. None of us really looked the same, none of us had matching skin color, we were just peoople, a family. We weren’t black, we weren’t white, we just were. Then, I hit middle school. And suddenly the white kids were telling me I was too black. But the black kids were saying I was too white. Which I mean, I am all of those things, so as a 12 year old you can see the confusion. And I just didn’t understand why it mattered.  Why they felt the need to classify me. And it hurt, because I had always considered myself to be black, but didn’t realize that I was doing it wrong. And so I tried to be black, until I realized, wait… What exactly is “being black?” How about I just be myself and see what happens? I can “be black” or “white” or purple, or I can just be Sabrina. So now yes, although I am bi-racial I consider myself to be black. And I know that I am black and I know that it means something. I am PROUD of my blackness, my heritage and the struggles we have faced. But…. I am always going to think of my mom as black too.