The Blacker The Berry

Just the other day, I read an article on theroot.com about Halle Berry's statement that she considers her mixed race daughter to be black. Apparently this created a bit of a stir within circles.  I'm not sure which ones, but somewhere, someone has an issue with it.


Race is the final frontier - and it's not going anywhere, anytime soon. It is not enough for one to identify and "label" one's self  - now we're having to defend our label. Those who consider themselves of pure race, unmixed blood might be surprised what they would discover should they become a guest on the show "Who Do You Think You Are", or Henry Louis Gates' "Faces of America". I like to joke and say I'm mixed too, with black and blacker. But truly, while my father's side is straight uncut motherland product, my maternal grandmother was a Caucasian and Black mixed (of African ancestry) Guyanese by way of Barbados and my maternal grandfather had East Indian (Madras),  Black (African ancestry) and Caucasian blood.  My maternal grandmother's family referred to their offspring as "baccra" (Caucasian and Black). My maternal grandfather's family referred to their offspring as coolie-dougla - let's put a pin on that. In the islands, Trinidad & Guyana in particular, which are over 50% East Indian in population, this term is used quite frequently. It is both a label of pride and offense. Pride because it means you are mixed with East Indian blood (which gives your "softer hair", "clean skin", and somehow elevated status in society). Offense, because the term "coolie" is the derogatory equivalent of "nigger" in the United States. However, as it relates to miscegenation in the islands, that term is a-ok.  Relatives have told me that my skin is smooth because of my coolie blood. All offspring that have been born to my maternal grandparent's lineage are proudly proclaimed "coolie-dougla chi'ren". Further, I've been prompted by one aunt in particular to go back to Guyana and find a nice coolie man. Gotta' resurrect that blood. Can't let this hair and skin thing die out, ya' know. 


Looking back, I believe that my darkness, and in outsiders eyes, unquestionable belonging to the black race was a gift. It NEVER was an issue. No one struggled with how I defined myself, nor did they struggle in how to define me. Even though my blood is mixed, I never struggled with identity, never questioned who I was. That's not to say I didn't feel "out of style" with the interracial shenanigans my people heap upon one another (see my article "Good Hair"). In high school there were a few lighter skinned blacks who would deny their blackness and would label themselves any garden variety of things - but never any of which were black. They were able to get away with it because I could have cared less and the white students didn't know any better. Nevertheless, it always puzzled me. What was so bad about being black?


There has been plenty of debate about whether the election of Barack Obama has propelled America into a post-racial society. I don't even really understand what that's supposed to mean. I googled it and found that "A true definition is undoubtedly hard to come by, as the term and connotations of the term are dubious. The idea of a post-racial society, in its most basic form, is a society in which race is no longer significant or important". Race not important? Surely you jest. What about all those census forms, EEO questionnaires, skin lightening products, lip injections, weaves, wigs and booty implants? Race may be less relevant to those born in the last 30 years, but it is STILL relevant. Plus, we've got a good share of old school Jim Crow aficionados hanging with the baby boomer Jim Crow contingency, welcoming the New Jim Crow recruits joining the the ranks. Helloooooooo tea party? The true level of absurd racism that exists in the good ole USA has never been more apparent than since the campaign, election and presidency of Barack Hussein Obama. 


The challenge with issues of race is fundamental. Speaking as a black woman (the only voice I am qualified to use), I see race as an intimate, experiential, spirit place. It is an intimacy that is impossible to explain.  It is impossible for one outside of it to adopt its lense and view and live the world as one within does. The nuances can be ubiquitous and tangible and at time thinly-veiled and intangible.  The tv show "What Would You Do" features social experiments entitled 'Confronting Racism In America'. This series has shown how latent racism can morph into full blown life jeopardizing indifference faster than you can say post-racial. Three scenarios : 1.  a white couple gets into a public physical confrontation - observers jump in gingerly, come to the woman's rescue. 2.  A black man and white woman get into a public physical confrontation - observers jump in, come to the woman's rescue and call the police. 3. A black couple gets into a public physical confrontation - observers alternate between ignoring them and yelling at them to take it somewhere else. I'd like to hear someone explain the glaring differential treatment away. 


It is STILL not easy being black in America. The same root.com Halle Berry article also said, "Berry has never used the words "mixed" or "biracial" to describe her racial identity. She identifies as a black woman. Similarly, President Barack Obama, Faith Evans, Jasmine Guy and even the late, great Bob Marley all embraced having a white parent -- but didn't identify by degree of blackness. The stretch to be "mixed" allows people to remove  themselves from the discriminatory world of blackness". While some of Halle's statements about her experiences with black men have been disappointing, I applaud her in choosing her identity, her label with pride and passing on that pride and belonging to her child. Old folks say "its not what you're called, it's what you answer to". I'll add to that, it's not how the world sees you, it's how you see yourself. For me, it's unapologetically black and proud.