Race

I identify as no particular race in my mind but have been asked and identified as many different races by many people over many years. Why? I was raised in a culture, in a family, on an island, where race or ethnic background does not matter. We identified as equal habitants of that country although I know race issues existed between a few folks. But really, we, meaning the people I know, thought of ourselves as an equal creed. Why do people ask? Maybe to find a connection, to be nosy or to just ask.

What does this have to do with now? Well, it’s black history month and while I identify with relatives and ancestry from a certain continent, I don’t appear to be of that group. Keep in mind I said “appear”. Yet, I’m not white. But I’m not really anything…

Hoestly, I don’t fit neatly into the American census bureau boxes. Until recently. I discovered by American standards and the good ole government’s criteria, I fit into three groups, none of which I can truly claim without feeling somewhat false, fake or like a liar. Does it matter? I don’t think so. But everyone who pegs me as something or the other seems to think so…

Race. It matters. Until it doesn’t. Even then, it seems to matter to others.