“Look, it’s Uncle Rick!”
At first, I was taken aback, wondering how my brother, who lives in another state, had suddenly appeared in our living room. But I quickly realized my 2-year-old son was actually pointing to a picture on the TV. The image was of NBA superstar Kobe Bryant. In reality, my brother stands at a modest 5-foot-9, and let’s just say, he’s not exactly a basketball player.
On another occasion, my brother morphed into LeBron James and Seattle Seahawks quarterback Russell Wilson in my son’s eyes. A few weeks later, he became a random college player from one of those teams that always seem to get knocked out in the first round of the NCAA tournament. (I may have a slight sports obsession.)
It was clear to me that my son, Leo, was beginning to notice skin color. Uncle Rick was “brown” like the African-American athletes he saw on TV, and while he was indeed older than many of those college players, the resemblance was there. Although I found it amusing, I was also a bit anxious.
I wasn’t apprehensive about discussing race. As a Black mother, I know these conversations are inevitable, especially since Black parents often have to initiate them sooner, unfortunately. I also understood this was a normal developmental phase; infants recognize color differences, and by ages 2 or 3, they can verbally identify them.
However, I was uncertain about how to approach this topic with a biracial child who might feel he doesn’t completely belong to either the Black or white community—or who may not yet grasp the concept of being “both.”
Initially, I worried I hadn’t provided him with enough exposure to people of color. Our neighbors are Indian, and his daycare is filled with children from diverse backgrounds, but most of the adults he interacted with regularly were white. My family, a mix of African-Americans of various ages and skin tones, tried to spend as much time as possible with Leo, but Uncle Rick was the only young Black male he saw often. I didn’t want him developing associations or stereotypes based on limited experiences, particularly if the only young Black men he saw were athletes on the screen.
Leo’s perception was also complicated by the fact that, as a biracial child, he might see himself differently. I recall asking at age 5 why people had white skin, given that everyone around me had brown skin. But Leo’s experience is different from mine.
“So, what color are you?” I asked one day, curious about his thoughts.
“I’m white, like Daddy,” he replied.
“You’re actually both brown and white,” I informed him. “You’re part like Mommy and part like Daddy.”
To be fair, he wasn’t much better at identifying white individuals either. On TV, “Daddy” could be anyone from musician Michael McDonald to various politicians debating health care. He seemed to notice skin color but also paid attention to age and body types.
It was heartening to see him associate specific white men with Dad and Black women with me, as he recognized characteristics beyond just skin tone.
As I listened more, my concerns began to dissipate. Yes, Leo noticed color differences, but he hadn’t picked up on societal messages that assign greater worth to one skin tone over another. He recognized his friends with brown skin or those he referred to as “Chinese” but never described their skin or features as weird or ugly.
Maybe our efforts as a family to engage in cultural events and to seek out diversity in his daycare were paying off. Leo saw it as perfectly normal for kids to have parents of different colors and for children and adults from various backgrounds to interact as friends. He could comfortably belong to both “brown” and “peach” families.
I’m not so naïve to think this level of racial harmony will last forever. As kids grow up, they inevitably absorb negative messages from others. But perhaps it’s a good start if they can build genuine friendships across racial and ethnic lines from an early age.
Now at age 5, Leo’s sense of identity has matured, although he still views the world in colorful terms. He no longer sees himself as white like Dad; instead, he perceives himself as peach. He even joyfully declared one day during bath time that he was the same color as his younger brother (who hadn’t yet arrived).
He might be light brown, but not as brown as Mommy, who’s the same shade as Uncle Rick. (These days, he only compares Uncle Rick to a select few athletes and musicians, like P. Diddy.) Leo embraces his identity as a blend of both, and I couldn’t be happier about that.
For more insights on navigating parenthood and cultural identity, you can explore our other blog posts, like this one on how to approach home insemination. Additionally, if you’re interested in fertility solutions, check out this guide on fertility boosters for men. For questions about fertility insurance, this resource is incredibly helpful.
Summary:
In navigating the complexities of raising a biracial child, it’s essential to recognize that children, like Leo, notice color differences and form associations based on their experiences. Engaging with diverse communities and fostering authentic friendships can help cultivate a healthy sense of identity. As parents, we can encourage understanding and appreciation of all backgrounds, laying the foundation for a more inclusive perspective as they grow.