Born between a Rock and a Hard Place Imagine yourself being different from everyone else around you. Imagine spending your life trying to find where you belong in the world. Many people who are hybrid children of individuals from two different cultures or races have felt this way every day, all over the world, at every point in history after colonization took place. Currently, 9 million adults in the United States (6.9%) identify as more than one race in their family, whether through grandparents, parents, or people who identify as more than one race, and along with that, in 2013, 10 percent of children are born to parents of different races, meaning our multiracial population is on the rise. Unfortunately, 55% of multiracial adults in our country also say they have felt discriminated against or made fun of because of their multiracial identity (Suh). Throughout history, in colonized and colonizing nations, hybridity has appeared in people and cultures, and as amazing as it may be to live in a melting pot of cultures and races, such as the United States, colonized cultures are often lost and Races of people are inevitably mixed together. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay Personally, I am part of the 6.9%. Being multiracial is something that has come up in my life in multiple situations and has caused an internal debate that I have yet to find an answer to. In this world and in this country I am privileged to be able to walk around the world appearing as a white woman. However, every time I check the Caucasian box on a form, I feel like I am distancing myself from much of my culture and disassociating myself from my African American family. I am what this country would have called, just over a century ago, a mulatto. With the one drop rule I would have long been a slave to my ancestors. My parents probably wouldn't have fallen in love; rather, my mother would most likely have been raped by a white male to bring me into the world, and because of my light skin I would have had the privilege of working inside a home cooking and cleaning and would inevitably have my own "mustee" ” (one-eighth black) child. Then maybe my daughter would have a child with another white man who would be considered a “mustafina” (one-sixteenth black) and only after that my great-grandson would be black enough to consider them pure and European enough to be considered white (Young). As white as I may seem, it's crazy to me to think that two more generations of my lineage could have been treated less than other white people. This was all an awareness that was brought to my attention by Robert Young's article, The Cultural Politics of Hybridity (Post-Colonial, 159). While I can easily push away my black lineage and live life as if it doesn't exist, it hurts me every time I get an advantage that my black family members wouldn't get. It also hurts my black family when I don't acknowledge that I am part black. My struggle with my identity stems from the fact that I appear completely white and sometimes feel bad about trying to identify with black culture that is historically oppressed when I don't live with the daily consequences of that oppression. At the same time, for me to not acknowledge my blackness is disrespectful to my ancestors who endured horrible treatment and fought hard for their rights and makes it seem like I am ashamed of the family I was born into. Despite having light skin like me, I havefound that people who know my multiracial background acknowledge it more than necessary with jokes about me being the black friend or asking me if a certain statement is racist since I'm part black like me. if I may speak on behalf of those who are victims of racism. With my black family I'm always the "white girl" and I remember people admiring my "beautiful" straight hair, and my black cousin saying, "you look like my porcelain doll" when I was younger. I wasn't blamed for being different, but it was always a strange position to be the one with the light skin and blonde hair that society deemed better or prettier than my black family's characteristics. When it came to my white family, I “blend in” more easily, but I still felt a little disconnected from not being culturally the same as my white cousins. I can only speak with certainty from my own personal experiences, and I know that I have it much easier than people who appear more mixed today, but I know the identity struggle that has remained in our culture, and I can only imagine how much it has been worse. for the first hybrids in any colonized or mixed culture. In Leslie Silko's Ceremony, Tayo lives with the struggle of being half-white in the Pueblo Native American tribe. His aunt regards him as less than her real native son, and he lives on as a reminder of the disgrace caused by his mother by sleeping with white men. Even with Tayo's friends, the fact that he is part white comes up often. It's important to note that Tayo never uses his whiteness as an advantage, and never really talks about it, but Emo often says things like, “He thinks he's okay. Because it's partly white. Aren't you a half-breed?" (Silko, 57). Even though this was said in a drunken moment, it shows that there is a cultural difference, whereby Tayo can never be fully accepted by his own people because he is part of a superior race in the country, and surely if he tried to fit in a la white men, they would simply see him as Indian. When Rocky and Tayo go to join the Army, the recruiter says, "'Anyone can fight for America... even you guys'... 'Now I know you guys love America as much as we do, but this it's your big chance to prove it” (Silko, 64). The way he addresses them shows that he doesn't consider Tayo white and expects them to be in love with a country that has hurt their people immensely. Even if Tayo doesn't shares the beliefs of whites, is often seen as part of that group that has done so much harm to Native American culture. When someone is a hybrid, they often struggle to fit in with the groups they identify with the fact that they are different matters in how they look and what they believe, and it's something they can't change In an article titled "17 Struggles with Being Mixed Race," an anonymous author shares her lifelong story. . struggling to be a modern mixed-race woman. The two things that stood out more than anything else in the article were the author's words: “I don't wish I could be black, white, or Latina anymore; it would just be nice to be fully accepted simply because I'm in black, white, and Latino circles” and “when people find out your ethnic makeup, they somehow find it distasteful. You are also this and also that to some people, who will also get angry if you don't "choose" one side or the other. The hardest part of hybridity is finding a place to fit in and be accepted. It is human nature to form groups with people you are similar to, and perhaps nowadays it is a little easier than it was for the original hybrid children of colonization, but there is still difficulty notfeeling like you can choose one of your races to identify with because you aren't fully qualified to be a part of one or the other. It's not that people have to choose a race, but it's nice to feel like you belong to some sort of title created by society and aren't just some weird glitch that doesn't have a place. I remember so clearly hearing about how my mother, a mixed-race black and white child, stood in front of bathrooms in segregated America and didn't know whether she should go into the colored or white bathroom. At times like those he felt he had no place in this country and throughout history the identity crisis has been a huge struggle for mixed race individuals. Along with the crisis of discovering how you want or how to identify yourself in this world, comes the difficulty of not feeling like you have a culture you can call your own. When countries are colonized, a large part of the colonization process is destroying the current culture and replacing it with the culture of the colonizers. Of course, this usually doesn't completely erase a culture, and this is where hybrid cultures appear. The only reason the culture is preserved is because there are some people who are determined not to let it go. In his article National Culture, Frantz Fanon states: “Colonialism is not content simply with holding a people in its grip and emptying the native's brain of all form and content. By a sort of perverse logic, it turns to the past of oppressed peoples and distorts, disfigures and destroys it” (Post-Colonial, 120). The colonizers' goal is to change everything the culture once accepted as truth and cause them to question and change their beliefs. In Ceremony we see this with the presence of Christianity in Native American culture; the fifth world had become intertwined with European names: the names of rivers, of hills, the names of animals and plants - all of creation suddenly had two names: an Indian name and a white name. Christianity separated people from themselves; tried to crush the name of the individual clan, encouraging each person to stand alone, because Jesus Christ would only save the individual soul (Silko, 68) This quote shows that the colonizers' goal was to transform a collective culture into an individualistic culture in which people do not have the same community values and creates a community where the method of survival is more every man for himself. Christianity itself is an individualistic culture and when trying to colonize a group of people it can help take away a community aspect so they don't try to fight as a collective. However, Fanon highlights the fact that some members of the community take it upon themselves to preserve their original culture, whatever it takes. On the heights of Macchu Picchu it seems that Neruda is in search of a lost culture. Macchu Picchu was believed to be a royal estate or sacred religious site for Inca leaders, whose civilization was virtually wiped out by Spanish invaders in the 16th century” (history.com). The poem reaches its climax when the narrator reaches the site of Macchu Picchu and has an overwhelming connection with the men who once stood where he stood. Neruda writes speaking to the Incas who built Macchu Picchu and were murdered by the colonizers: “show me your blood and your furrow... show me the wood with which they crucified your body... illuminate the whips glued to your wounds over the centuries and light the axes shining with your blood, I come to speak for your dead mouths” (Neruda, 67-69). This poem explores the past of Native Latin Americans and allows their story to live on so that no one forgets. Thanks to.
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