Organized randomness….
I know that I have been missing for more than a minute, but…that’s what happens when you have way too much on your plate. I thought about writing everyday—on the way to do laundry, cook a meal, or clean a bathroom. Now that my life has resumed to it’s own simple pace. I will definitely have more time to do the thing that I love second best—which is write.
Here’s a quick catch-up…
G-d is so awesome! I still love Colorado. I think about going home everyday mainly because though I am staying in the word and listening to tapes—it’s not the same as that prophetic atmosphere and the cut to the bone/in your face/hit you with the truth word that I get from my SF. And I have church hopped a little to places where people swear there is a “deep” word only to leave irritated because I could have caught some TV instead. My spiritual condition is of the utmost importance to me so that I can fulfill divine purpose. The proof for me of his love for me is that he could have chosen anyone---but yet he still chose me to carry the anointing that I carry. He ignored my past, and even my present! I don’t want to jeopardize that in any way. So I am stuck catching my SF on the internet 2 days a week. Still, I do love the atmosphere, the pace and the fact that a sista’ has had a chance to lose 10 pounds and some inches. Can we say…SEXY!!!! But really, I love it here. The people are so incredibly friendly it’s unreal. Every child I meet is instantly attached at my hip. What is up with that? And let’s not mention that they are experiencing a baby boom here. I saw 15 newborns in a matter of minutes yesterday in Wal-Mart. It’s must be some type of flu or something…well I’m not going to catch it that’s for sure!!! My husband and I have a complete set as I like to say.
Now onto other things that may be slightly controversial….However, I have been meaning to write about this for some time. Here in CO there are a lot of biracial couples as well as children. Since I have been here, I have overheard a lot of conversations where the parents (i.e. the mothers)--stress their concern over how dark the children will be. Seems kinda weird, but they are extremely concerned. This is an extremely touchy subject for me as I am myself biracial. The mothers themselves don’t get it because they are not biracial so to them I come off as angry black woman trying to make them seem as if they are prejudiced. But their children are hearing them mull over their concerns about their “color status” so they themselves don’t even seem to understand they are black in even if just half. As a matter of fact, they call themselves anything but black—peach, apricot, tan. It’s incredibly funny and sad to me at the same time. What do you tell biracial children? What would you tell them?
Now, you would think that I, from a personal standpoint would have something to offer in the matter because of my own experiences as a child and later as an adult, but they don’t want to hear what I have to say. I was very “light” as a child. But I always knew that I was black. I would have never considered myself “beige”. But them my mother was black. So she didn’t sugar coat that for me. It was understood by me that no matter what color I appeared to be to people, I was black. It has brought some issues to my life as well. As a child I would often change my name. I was always moving so unfortunately some people I grew up with probably still have no clue what my real name was. Shoot at that time, I didn’t even know who I was. I carried that into adulthood culminating other issues. For instance, my husband later admitted to me that he approached me when we met, because he knew I was mixed. That threw me off for a bit because I thought so just being a nice looking black woman wasn’t enough? But I got over that somewhere along the line. When I had my daughter last year my in-laws entered my room catching only a glimpse of me and apologized to me because they thought they had entered the wrong room. In the winter months, I can be mistaken from time to time. I don’t look white to me, but I guess to other people I can at certain points. Now both of my daughters came here the same color as me and even though we had family members that called the oldest one “little white girl” I made sure she understood that she was black. Not because it bothered me that they called her white but because she is indeed black despite all outside appearances. What did I tell her? That we come in a multitude of different colors from bright light to dark and lovely. To me that would solve the issues that could later arise should she go through a “color change.” These mothers don’t want to say that for some reason. It brought up the issue for me that if you are uncomfortable with telling your children that, can you raise strong biracial children? Especially if you yourself won’t even acknowledge that your daughters are indeed black women or your sons, black men, despite their current shade?
So again, what do you tell them? If they look white do you say they are white? If they look Hispanic, do you tell them that or do you just say your father is black and so are you? My father is Hispanic, but I still say I am black. If people ask more questions I explain further. Color changes do happen. If you say they are white or merely Hispanic and they get darker, how will that affect them later? They are biracial. That’s for sure. The mother does have to get comfortable with that. The thing that irritated me was that if you don’t want them to be black, that was something that you should have considered prior to the “hook up”.
The scripture says that we are fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14). I have held onto that when faced with identity crisis. Understanding that I was chosen for G-d’s pleasure is now enough for me. NOW. It’s been a long journey to this point. I am very interested in what you all have to say on this issue.
Be Blessed. Chosen.
I know that I have been missing for more than a minute, but…that’s what happens when you have way too much on your plate. I thought about writing everyday—on the way to do laundry, cook a meal, or clean a bathroom. Now that my life has resumed to it’s own simple pace. I will definitely have more time to do the thing that I love second best—which is write.
Here’s a quick catch-up…
G-d is so awesome! I still love Colorado. I think about going home everyday mainly because though I am staying in the word and listening to tapes—it’s not the same as that prophetic atmosphere and the cut to the bone/in your face/hit you with the truth word that I get from my SF. And I have church hopped a little to places where people swear there is a “deep” word only to leave irritated because I could have caught some TV instead. My spiritual condition is of the utmost importance to me so that I can fulfill divine purpose. The proof for me of his love for me is that he could have chosen anyone---but yet he still chose me to carry the anointing that I carry. He ignored my past, and even my present! I don’t want to jeopardize that in any way. So I am stuck catching my SF on the internet 2 days a week. Still, I do love the atmosphere, the pace and the fact that a sista’ has had a chance to lose 10 pounds and some inches. Can we say…SEXY!!!! But really, I love it here. The people are so incredibly friendly it’s unreal. Every child I meet is instantly attached at my hip. What is up with that? And let’s not mention that they are experiencing a baby boom here. I saw 15 newborns in a matter of minutes yesterday in Wal-Mart. It’s must be some type of flu or something…well I’m not going to catch it that’s for sure!!! My husband and I have a complete set as I like to say.
Now onto other things that may be slightly controversial….However, I have been meaning to write about this for some time. Here in CO there are a lot of biracial couples as well as children. Since I have been here, I have overheard a lot of conversations where the parents (i.e. the mothers)--stress their concern over how dark the children will be. Seems kinda weird, but they are extremely concerned. This is an extremely touchy subject for me as I am myself biracial. The mothers themselves don’t get it because they are not biracial so to them I come off as angry black woman trying to make them seem as if they are prejudiced. But their children are hearing them mull over their concerns about their “color status” so they themselves don’t even seem to understand they are black in even if just half. As a matter of fact, they call themselves anything but black—peach, apricot, tan. It’s incredibly funny and sad to me at the same time. What do you tell biracial children? What would you tell them?
Now, you would think that I, from a personal standpoint would have something to offer in the matter because of my own experiences as a child and later as an adult, but they don’t want to hear what I have to say. I was very “light” as a child. But I always knew that I was black. I would have never considered myself “beige”. But them my mother was black. So she didn’t sugar coat that for me. It was understood by me that no matter what color I appeared to be to people, I was black. It has brought some issues to my life as well. As a child I would often change my name. I was always moving so unfortunately some people I grew up with probably still have no clue what my real name was. Shoot at that time, I didn’t even know who I was. I carried that into adulthood culminating other issues. For instance, my husband later admitted to me that he approached me when we met, because he knew I was mixed. That threw me off for a bit because I thought so just being a nice looking black woman wasn’t enough? But I got over that somewhere along the line. When I had my daughter last year my in-laws entered my room catching only a glimpse of me and apologized to me because they thought they had entered the wrong room. In the winter months, I can be mistaken from time to time. I don’t look white to me, but I guess to other people I can at certain points. Now both of my daughters came here the same color as me and even though we had family members that called the oldest one “little white girl” I made sure she understood that she was black. Not because it bothered me that they called her white but because she is indeed black despite all outside appearances. What did I tell her? That we come in a multitude of different colors from bright light to dark and lovely. To me that would solve the issues that could later arise should she go through a “color change.” These mothers don’t want to say that for some reason. It brought up the issue for me that if you are uncomfortable with telling your children that, can you raise strong biracial children? Especially if you yourself won’t even acknowledge that your daughters are indeed black women or your sons, black men, despite their current shade?
So again, what do you tell them? If they look white do you say they are white? If they look Hispanic, do you tell them that or do you just say your father is black and so are you? My father is Hispanic, but I still say I am black. If people ask more questions I explain further. Color changes do happen. If you say they are white or merely Hispanic and they get darker, how will that affect them later? They are biracial. That’s for sure. The mother does have to get comfortable with that. The thing that irritated me was that if you don’t want them to be black, that was something that you should have considered prior to the “hook up”.
The scripture says that we are fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14). I have held onto that when faced with identity crisis. Understanding that I was chosen for G-d’s pleasure is now enough for me. NOW. It’s been a long journey to this point. I am very interested in what you all have to say on this issue.
Be Blessed. Chosen.
posted by Chosen at
3:44 PM
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