Memory of the day

Following up on a memory I had the other day is a time when I had to deal with the word nigger during the start of my summer vacation while in the 4th grade.
I was 10 years old in summer camp in Glendale California and I was excited for the first trip of the summer as we were heading to Huntington Beach. I had not yet made my usual group of friends, in fact u usually got to know the other kids during this first trip of the summer. For my big trip I asked my older brother to borrow his new boogie board and while he hesitantly told me that I could he quickly added “If ANYTHING happens to it I will kick your butt!" The day was sunny and awesome and I was ready for some beach. We got there and I set up shop not far from the water with my towel, my lunch, and my brothers new boogie board. Not far to my right was a group of about 5 white kids that had laid out their spread as well. It wasn't long after I had sat down and gotten comfortable that I could hear them laughing and could see them staring at me. They began to talk louder so that I could hear them as they said “look at that nigger he is so gross look at him just sitting there alone". I, as you know from my previous memory posts, had dealt with this issue before at the age of 5 and now knowing what that word meant I stood up tall with my head held high and grabbed my brothers new boogie board and walked down to the water. As I got near the water one of the older camp counselors approached me and asked to use the board. I agreed but told him to be very careful. I stood and watched him as he swam for what seemed to be an hour out to sea with my brother’s new board. I waited about 5 minutes and started to panic at the thought of my brother kicking my butt if something happened to his board. Then in a panic and without thinking I jumped into the water and began to swim out to sea. I swam farther out past the waves than my little 10 year old self ever had before. I finally reached the counselor and grasping for air I yelled “Please give me the board back!" Just as I had screamed for my board I turned around and saw the biggest wave known to man approaching us. The counselor and I turned and looked at each other as the counselor said "OH SHIT" and shoved the board over to me adding “Ride it dude!!!". I took the board and quickly put the arm strap and while my life flashed before me I was immediately engulfed by the enormous wave. I was tossed around like a rag doll and remember swallowing water and not being able to breathe. When I finally washed up on shore I could see the board floating in the water looking equally as pathetic as me and missing the arm strap that had been ripped off by the massive wave. I grabbed the board and my dignity and began balling my eyes out as I walked back over to my towel where I sat and cried and thought about how my brother was going to kill me.
It was then, in my crying stupor, when I looked up to see all five of those cruel boys from earlier standing over me with, to my surprise, Twizlers candy. They had walked over thinking I was crying because of what they had said to me earlier. One of the boys said “we are sorry about what we said we didn’t mean it" and then another added " Ya! do you want to come sit with us??!" I picked myself up and went to go sit with the group of kids that would be my group of buddies for the rest of the summer.
The moral to this memory that has remained so vivid in my mind is that I believe it was that day that I realized that sometimes when someone says something to you it isn't always "them" who is saying it or how they truly feel rather something they have heard or learned from someone else.....................like a parent.

Entry i posted at iseecolor.com-"Does being biracial mean the same thing it meant 20 years ago?"

Being Biracial and growing up in an upper middle class neighborhood in the valley of Los Angeles California made for a difficult, interesting, educational, and fulfilling youth all in one. In my day the only black show on television was the Cosby Show and seeing another biracial family out and about was like spotting an identifiable fish in a tank full of gold fish. In a time of such change we are seeing the barriers between whites and blacks slowly begin to come down but how exactly is that affecting those of us that are of mixed race. If you are a biracial student at a school and the black crowd and the white crowds start to socialize with each other you are still the kid in the group that is biracial and if you are like me and completely appreciate both sides of your ethnicity equally it might still be difficult to find someone to relate to.
The thing is that it is not so much as fitting in as it is that feeling of not being able relate to anyone else. As a biracial kid you will definitely have experiences very different from a kid with two black or white parents and who can you talk to about that? For me it was literally no one.
As we continue to advance and mix as a nation I just hope that we also become more aware of what it means to fit into that "other" category.
I started a blog (posted above) for other biracial people and people of all races to talk specifically about issues like this and would welcome anyone to share you thoughts and ideas with me there or here. I'm also writing a book about my experiences growing up purely for the hopes that I can assist in that progress if even just a little.

Picture of my baby brother and his beautiful daughter

She looks just like him...kind of:) She has his nose, big ears, and makes the same exact faces that he does.

Memory 2 of the day sparked by an article I read.

In Junior High a new girl came to my school that was a very beautiful dark skinned black girl. I thought she was very attractive and seeing as how there were only about 5 other black girls in the entire school and with most of my friends being white ,simply because they were the kids I grew up with in grade school, I was very intrigued and she made it clear pretty quickly that she liked me as well. It could have been my charm OR the fact that I was the only other dark dude in the school. We had a class together and I found out quickly that she was very annoying. I ended my crush on her about 4 days after knowing her. Had I known what would happen next I would have steered clear all together. For the next 4 weeks I was harassed by her and the other 5 black girls in my school. They would show up at my locker, follow me down the halls, and basically did what they could to make my life hell. They proclaimed that I was racist and hated my own kind and didn't like her simply because she was black. In fact I was told on several occasions I was going to get a visit from her cousins and get "jumped". I started to call and talk to her every night and we became friends and soon the harassment ended. I went on to date many black girls after that but needless to say I waited until i got out of Junior High.

READ THIS ARTICLE IT"S GREAT

"Being BiRacial in a mixed up World"
Tamara Field

http://archives.chicagotribune.com/2009/nov/29/opinion/chi-perspec1129colornov29

Experience of the Day

I got to see my beautiful niece. I can see my brother in her features but DARN does she look like my sister-in-law. Being 1/4 black and 3/4 white I guess is what it adds up to. But I hate to even think of it in that way. She is beautiful no matter what. And she has my sense of humor:)

Memory of the Day

When I was seven years old I was walking home in the huge apartment building I lived in after a long day of playing. And just as I was about to reach my door two older white boys passed by me that also lived in the building. As I passed them one of them loudly whispered "Nigger". My head perked up and I looked back in disbelief. Fortunately I had no clue what that word meant BUT I knew it was bad. I went upstairs prepared to let it go but when I reached the top of the stairs my mom asked me what those boys had said to me. Apparently she had been up on the balcony and saw the whole thing. I told her they called me an nigger and then asked her what it meant and she told me that it was very bad and no one should ever call me that. Two days later that boy and his mother knocked on my door and I was called over. He stood there in front of his mother with his baseball cap lowered over his forehead covering his eyes as he began to read a letter he wrote to me. It began with "I'm sorry I called you that bad word." I remember thinking that must have been very embarrassing and actually felt bad for the kid. We became friends after that and since he was older he actually looked out for me.That was the beginning of me thinking that I might have to go through situations like this in the future and in fact i did. Speaking of which this reminds me of another time in which this happened except I was a little older and it was a group of kids but THIS time I knew what the word meant..........I will save that for tomorrows memory :)