In life I strive for balance, where there is light there must be dark, where I feel pain I must experience joy. A few moons ago I wrote a post called Mixed Race Rant, a diatribe of repressed anger and frustration. I had wounds that needed to heal, and thankfully I was able to air them in a Safe Healing Environment called Destee forum.
As a hue-man being seeking her truth, and working to be a warrior for peace, I have taken the time to introspect and find self-acceptance. And you know what? I love who I am, and therefore must also love being bi-racial; although from an intellectual point of view I am in fact of one race, that being hueman, and more accurately bi-cultural.
So, for anyone who abhors the thought of Caucasian and African blood intermingling, I warn you to get out now because this one isn't going to turn you on. But that's alright, like I've learned from sister Destee, I will not be able to please everyone all the time, but so long as I'm true to myself it's all good.
For everyone else, please abide me some patience while I explain the love inside that makes up me. First off I have to say that I probably chose this incarnation, this bi-cultural experience before I even arrived here. I of course cannot prove this, but I can intuitively believe it.
From my life I grew up with so much richness and abundance of experience that to deny it in favor of only half the contribution, would be to deplete me. Now, allow me to say that because of the mentality of racism, I have never experienced life as a "white" person and I never will. In part because my skin color will not permit that deception, nor would I desire it. What I have had the benefit of is looking into the Caucasian culture from very close up. Sometimes I've been all up in their places where they didn't expect to see a dark face, and I've felt like an ambassador. Letting them know that the African presence is felt universally. But I digress.
As a result of prolonged exposure to Caucasian society, I do not feel intimidated by their customs, and I can acclimate quickly if needed. I have heard first hand how many of them feel towards ethnic groups, about themselves and about their contributions & responsibilities. And this gives me the gift of insight
I had the benefit of growing up listening to Miriam Makeba (South African) Nana Mouskouri (Greek), Edith Piaf (French), Sparrow (Guyana). My home on any night of the week may carry the smell of mom's pot roast, or dad's curry and rice. And you know what I like it, all of it... thank-you.
When I was growing up I had so many issues about my appearance, but now as I am grown, I see that these issues were not particular to me as a African descendant. No, the issues of appearance as a teenager were inherent to the insecurity of most children in the Western world of vanity. Today I am happy with my flawless chocolate red bone complexion. True, it doesn't shine like the velvet Mahogany of my darker cousins, but it don't burn like the fragile paper covering of some of my lighter family either.
My hair I have come to accept will never have that thick kink that Africans can so gracefully call their crown, so I do not make a Black Power political statement with it, but it has enough curl that I can style it many ways and still have soul.
As an orator, my voice delivered me all the way to the United Nations, where I spoke about what was then the issue of sanctions against apartheid. Now I train to enhance my singers voice in lieu of the fact that I am not a "natural", nor will I hold title as the Queen of Soul. My inflection and accent do not allow for the kind of sultry essence that we attribute to our Sister songbirds, but that's alright. What Goddess gave me allows me to express what's in my heart, with a sweetness that is appreciated. In other words I don't worry about causing ears to bleed.
As a bi-racial womban I am accustomed to being the only black person in a room, so I don't sweat it anymore. I go where I want to go, and I will venture to where the ancestors call me. What I am able to do is look beyond the skin color to more subtle energies that give me information about people's thoughts, feelings and intentions. And that to me, is priceless survival training. An enemy is not announced by the color of skin, nor by the style of hair, or by the generic sound of their name. A friend is not defined in those ways either.
My heart can hold so much love because of it's multi-cultural experience that I know I can honestly serve the path of Ma'at, if I am willing to express myself openly and honestly. I have had the opportunity to learn about the history of Alkebulan, Kemet, African-Americans, Moors, Zulus, Falasha Jews, and so much more of the richest tapestry on earth known as African history, and for that I am so very very blessed, I thank the Creator profusely.
See I may not be at the root of the tree, but I am well aware of being a branch on the tree! Amen-Ra!
The Italian contribution allows me to cook a great pasta, choose a good wine, have a refined sense of classic fashion sense, and send looks of fire across the room when I'm mad. My body type is perfect - to me. I'm not voluptuous like my American sisters, but I got shape on a little frame and it's alright by me.
I have searched for answers as to why one group of people can create a culture of violence and another thrive on harmony and peace. In that search I had hoped to find a place of healing, and what I have found is that
truthfully many of us don't want a reconciliation, we all just want to be right. But I don't wish to discuss that now, for this is a celebration of self and not a political commentary.
In conclusion, I have learned a great deal in this lifetime spent as a bi-cultural or bi-racial womban, and I pray for the blessings of health and time to continue learning on a peaceful journey. I know the value and blessing of melanin from a spiritual, physical, mental and emotional viewpoint, and it is what I would call priceless.
Now, I have progeny to share my knowledge with, and to show the world to. What he will inherit is the ancestral traditions that built empires and began civilizations. What he will do with that is to be an innovative and as creative as his Spirit moulds him to be. In the end sister Iyanla Vanzant was so right when she said "it matters not what people call me, it matters only what I answer to"
As a hue-man being seeking her truth, and working to be a warrior for peace, I have taken the time to introspect and find self-acceptance. And you know what? I love who I am, and therefore must also love being bi-racial; although from an intellectual point of view I am in fact of one race, that being hueman, and more accurately bi-cultural.
So, for anyone who abhors the thought of Caucasian and African blood intermingling, I warn you to get out now because this one isn't going to turn you on. But that's alright, like I've learned from sister Destee, I will not be able to please everyone all the time, but so long as I'm true to myself it's all good.
For everyone else, please abide me some patience while I explain the love inside that makes up me. First off I have to say that I probably chose this incarnation, this bi-cultural experience before I even arrived here. I of course cannot prove this, but I can intuitively believe it.
From my life I grew up with so much richness and abundance of experience that to deny it in favor of only half the contribution, would be to deplete me. Now, allow me to say that because of the mentality of racism, I have never experienced life as a "white" person and I never will. In part because my skin color will not permit that deception, nor would I desire it. What I have had the benefit of is looking into the Caucasian culture from very close up. Sometimes I've been all up in their places where they didn't expect to see a dark face, and I've felt like an ambassador. Letting them know that the African presence is felt universally. But I digress.
As a result of prolonged exposure to Caucasian society, I do not feel intimidated by their customs, and I can acclimate quickly if needed. I have heard first hand how many of them feel towards ethnic groups, about themselves and about their contributions & responsibilities. And this gives me the gift of insight
I had the benefit of growing up listening to Miriam Makeba (South African) Nana Mouskouri (Greek), Edith Piaf (French), Sparrow (Guyana). My home on any night of the week may carry the smell of mom's pot roast, or dad's curry and rice. And you know what I like it, all of it... thank-you.
When I was growing up I had so many issues about my appearance, but now as I am grown, I see that these issues were not particular to me as a African descendant. No, the issues of appearance as a teenager were inherent to the insecurity of most children in the Western world of vanity. Today I am happy with my flawless chocolate red bone complexion. True, it doesn't shine like the velvet Mahogany of my darker cousins, but it don't burn like the fragile paper covering of some of my lighter family either.
My hair I have come to accept will never have that thick kink that Africans can so gracefully call their crown, so I do not make a Black Power political statement with it, but it has enough curl that I can style it many ways and still have soul.
As an orator, my voice delivered me all the way to the United Nations, where I spoke about what was then the issue of sanctions against apartheid. Now I train to enhance my singers voice in lieu of the fact that I am not a "natural", nor will I hold title as the Queen of Soul. My inflection and accent do not allow for the kind of sultry essence that we attribute to our Sister songbirds, but that's alright. What Goddess gave me allows me to express what's in my heart, with a sweetness that is appreciated. In other words I don't worry about causing ears to bleed.
As a bi-racial womban I am accustomed to being the only black person in a room, so I don't sweat it anymore. I go where I want to go, and I will venture to where the ancestors call me. What I am able to do is look beyond the skin color to more subtle energies that give me information about people's thoughts, feelings and intentions. And that to me, is priceless survival training. An enemy is not announced by the color of skin, nor by the style of hair, or by the generic sound of their name. A friend is not defined in those ways either.
My heart can hold so much love because of it's multi-cultural experience that I know I can honestly serve the path of Ma'at, if I am willing to express myself openly and honestly. I have had the opportunity to learn about the history of Alkebulan, Kemet, African-Americans, Moors, Zulus, Falasha Jews, and so much more of the richest tapestry on earth known as African history, and for that I am so very very blessed, I thank the Creator profusely.
See I may not be at the root of the tree, but I am well aware of being a branch on the tree! Amen-Ra!
The Italian contribution allows me to cook a great pasta, choose a good wine, have a refined sense of classic fashion sense, and send looks of fire across the room when I'm mad. My body type is perfect - to me. I'm not voluptuous like my American sisters, but I got shape on a little frame and it's alright by me.
I have searched for answers as to why one group of people can create a culture of violence and another thrive on harmony and peace. In that search I had hoped to find a place of healing, and what I have found is that
truthfully many of us don't want a reconciliation, we all just want to be right. But I don't wish to discuss that now, for this is a celebration of self and not a political commentary.
In conclusion, I have learned a great deal in this lifetime spent as a bi-cultural or bi-racial womban, and I pray for the blessings of health and time to continue learning on a peaceful journey. I know the value and blessing of melanin from a spiritual, physical, mental and emotional viewpoint, and it is what I would call priceless.
Now, I have progeny to share my knowledge with, and to show the world to. What he will inherit is the ancestral traditions that built empires and began civilizations. What he will do with that is to be an innovative and as creative as his Spirit moulds him to be. In the end sister Iyanla Vanzant was so right when she said "it matters not what people call me, it matters only what I answer to"