On mixedness and blackness

Posted in Articles, Identity Development/Psychology, Media Archive on 2014-03-16 22:00Z by Steven

On mixedness and blackness

What Nadia Likes
2014-03-14

Nadia Riepenhausen

What are you? A question that is fairly straightforward for many, but not so much for me. Before you roll your eyes, expecting to hear another lengthy diatribe about another ‘tragic mullato’ identity crisis, hear me out.

A couple of Sundays ago, I found myself in a ‘battle of the races’ on twitter, a ‘twar’ for the lack of a better term. It started out as a pleasant debate regarding racial categories in South Africa, and the difference between a cultural and racial identity. It ended with me being called a racist who hates black people by choosing to identify as ‘mixed race’. I have been called many things, but a racist is definitely a first for me. I’m not going to justify my non-racist claim, by stating something lame like “some of my best friends are black”, because as I am mixed race, I am also black, but some people just don’t seem to get or accept that it’s possible to be both of these things at the same time

In the aforementioned twitter debate, I was explaining to my fellow tweeters that I prefer to identify as mixed race, rather than ‘coloured’. For those not in the know, ‘coloured’ is how mixed race people are referred to in South Africa, and in Zimbabwe where I grew up. For me ‘coloured’ is more of a cultural identity, rather than a race. Although both of my parents were born coloured, I have never been comfortable with the label. This is mainly due to the way that I have been socialised and the environment that I grew up in. I grew up with my German stepfather and spent parts of my childhood in Germany. I went to predominantly white schools, and was one of a handful of so-called ‘coloureds’ in my school. I found myself with either white or black friends, and when it came to debating issues of race or politics, I adopted a black identity. During the time I was in school, I didn’t have the means to question my identity too much, but always found it difficult to answer questions pertaining to what I was. I didn’t live in the areas that coloured people lived in, I didn’t speak the way they spoke, nor did I go to the same places they did. I may give the impression that I was afflicted with a superiority complex, and that I thought I was better in some way, but this was definitely not the case. I would have loved to have blended in, but I simply did not. The few times that I attempted to, I was told that I ‘didn’t belong’ and was even beaten up by a girl once for being where I don’t belong. Many years on, I have no desire to blend in with any group and have embraced my ‘otherness’…

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