Okay, my newphew doesn't really think he's Michael Jackson but he's damn close to thinking/believeing that he is supposed to be caucasian, God made a mistake, and, by any means necessary, he's going to hold onto this truth, his truth. I must say, when he was 3, we thought it was hilarious. He would go around saying that he's not black (he is light-skin and his school is 95% Dominican and Catholic so I can see where the confusion comes in.)He lives in Harlem, a predominately Black and Latino quartier so his exposure to white people is very limited. He is obviously victim to the vicious color complex that assaults the minority communities, carried over from Willie Lynchism of slavery times. In his class photo, all the kids are light (including my nephew who looks more Dominican than black) and, when I asked him what the only little dark skinned girl in his class name was, he shrugged, made a disapproving scowl and said, “she’s black,” to which I responded, “What the hell you think you are?” He shook his head no.
I was confused as to where he was developing this kind of mentality. I know kids are cruel and say racist things derivative of their parents’ conditioning (I was called a “nigger-bitch” in first grade by a classmate who was probably repeating what his parents had said many times). But where is my nephew learning to be so ashamed of his skin color. At school, of course. I’m pretty sure he knows he’s black. His dad and grandmother are light (he says his grandmother is white) but his grandfather, aunts and mother are brown-skinned women. We are very much apart of his life interacting with him positively on every level possible. How could he develop racist tendencies usually associated with black kids who go to all white schools who are confused and disillusioned? My nephew has had the “best” of the blackest experience; a Harlem baby, a black nuclear family, a militant grandfather, and college educated parents, aunts and grandparents. He’s already been to Mexico several times on our family vacation and goes to Cali twice a year (where we’re all from). The only white person he knows and realizes is truly white is my dad’s girlfriend (how appropriate) who is 30 years younger, an aerobics instructor and has no problem walking around uptown singing the Jonas Brothers. Anyway, so my nephew, every time he sees my dad’s girlfriend, flips the script. He bats his eyes at her, he rubs her legs, he cries and pleads to sit on her lap and he follows her like an orphan would a prospective mom. Let me reiterate, we all thought it was hilarious that he wanted, so deeply, to be white…when he was 3. He’s now going on five, with a new little brown-skinned sister, and he is still fighting the forces of nature and assuming to be Caucasian.
So, of course, the next question is what should we do? I know his mother, aloof as can be, is not going to want to restrict his “creative outlets”. Whatever the fuck that means. I guess she wants him to be holistic and accepting of all creatures on God’s Earth. Which is great but she IS Buddhist and they want good to come to all, all the time, for eternity…His father is Buddhist, too, but a little more practical. He just thinks his son’s confused but something he’ll eventually grow out of. Of course, all the extended family thinks that this is a serious issue that must be dealt with soon.
I think we (meaning non-white people) have all experienced a pang of pain by not being accepted in a world where white trumps all. We’re continuously conditioned on white culture and success while subconsciously rejecting aspects of our culture that are delightful, unique and worthy of adulation. I believe my nephew is simply fascinated by white privilege, not knowing to the full extent how painful a black man’s experience in a white world can be. His father, also from Harlem, suffered greatly at an all white boarding school in Connecticut. He was also disillusioned by white culture at a very young age. After boarding school, however, he was awakened to real experience of racism. I know times have changed, especially for my nephew’s generation, but I wonder what it will take for him to accept people for who they are and overcome racism and white privilege. I want him to be proud of being black while his Puerto Rican best friend introduces him to his proud parade every summer. I want my nephew to not disgrace his grandfather because he is dark or disgrace his aunt because of my locks. Most of all, I don’t want him to disgrace himself, because he really can stretch himself as much as he’d like. He is growing up in an America where, by the time he’s 10, he would have never remembered a time without Obama’s influence. But, although the weather of America has become sunnier, the climate has shifted minimally and the old sentiments of Willie Lynch still apply. I just hope my little man will discover how to break out of his own chains that bind him.
Photo is of my Moonwalkin' nephew...
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