I was fat-shamed at an Afro-Centric Pregnancy Fair
The other day, I got fat-shamed. When you get fat-shamed often, like every time you turn on a television, it takes a lot to make an impact. My husband, Chris, and I went to our city’s second annual Afro-Centric Pregnancy Fair in Portland, Oregon. I had high hopes of being in a supportive environment of people who care about the unique challenges facing black women as they enter pregnancy, childbirth, and childbearing. I fantasized about talking with midwives, doulas, and new mothers about their amazing experiences and horror stories of hospitals, birth centers, and their living rooms. Instead, I got a major dressing down by a black doctor manning an information table for a clinic.
My three-year-old associates “dark” with “bad”: How to talk to kids about race
I’ve noticed that if she’s playing a game that involves confrontation her black doll is always the aggressor. I’ve been thinking about the movies we watch (most noticeably Tangled, which features a dark-haired evil witch and an innocent light-haired princess) and am realizing that there’s a direct correlation between bad and dark in many of them.
The world’s best playground might be London’s Diana Memorial Playground
On a good day in London, on our local playground where race, class, school uniforms and linguistic boundaries may as well have been built out of concrete, I was a cynic. Visiting the Diana playground was a most welcome respite from all of that. And, though I am wary of entering the treacle zone, it is a testimony to the spirit of the Lady who inspired it. This playground exists in an unlikely place and it gives some pointers, some idea of what our society could be like. Maybe even our world.
I was born multi-racial and didn’t realize it until I was 6
As an adult I find myself faced with the issue of race every day — I never know what to check when I’m filling out any kind of official form. The truth is, if it were not for my mother’s words I’d be incredibly frustrated by the situation. Instead, the idea that I belong to the human race is the foundation of my upbringing, and I realize that I cannot be easily defined by what my skin looks like.
Dealing with another parent shunning your teen
Last summer, my daughter wanted to celebrate her birthday by having her two best friends over for a slumber party. I emailed both moms with an invitation and some possible dates. One of them emailed back that it didn’t matter what the date was, because she didn’t feel comfortable having her daughter in my home. Ever. Following a different drummer is all well and good, until your kid gets shunned for it. Then the panic sets in.
Raising tri-cultural children in a world of absoluteness
In a world of categories, how do you inspire your children to break away from categorization and create their own identity? This is a question that I had never thought of before I had children.
Our child’s grandparents are Israeli, Syrian, German and Irish — how do we include their traditions without forcing the ideas on our child?
Both my husband and I come from ethnically and religiously mixed homes. My husband is the child of an Israeli Jewish dad and Syrian Muslim mom. I am the daughter of a German Quaker and an Irish Druidic Pagan. We don’t want our child to grow up confused about his/her own background or feel obligated to explore all paths if there’s one they prefer.
Choosing non-white-dominant art for kids
Once our daughter is born, I assume she’ll be some mash-up of the two of us, although the more brown-and-white mixed kids I see, the more I wonder if our little monster will be identifiably brown at all. I always thought of my genetic heritage as weak, non-fat milky white DNA that would easily be overwhelmed by a good infusion of cocoa. I’m beginning to suspect that my mixed Scottish/Slavic heritage is heartier than it lets on.