The "Others": Multi-Racial Americans in the Age of Identity Politics

The "Others": Multi-Racial Americans and Identity Politics

For millions of Americans whose race isn't as clear as black and white, identity politics can force an uncomfortable choice. But there is an alternative to division.

I am the "other".

Below Black, White, Asian, Hispanic, at the very bottom of that job or school application, sometimes a loan application - there I am. "Other".

I am the son of a white Irish father and a first generation immigrant Dominican mother. The only thing the two sides of my family had in common when they first met was that they were both Catholic. Now, they still have very little in common, except grandchildren and nieces and nephews.

Racially, this makes me "mixed" (or Other). In a world where wearing your race is a badge of pride, where Brown and Black and White are quickly coming back into style as how you define the quality of your American experience, I have been left in a veritable gray area where standing out means standing against everything I have been brought up to believe.

GREATER THAN THE SUM OF ITS PARTS

Growing up, race meant nothing to me. I was surrounded by people every shade of brown and white from the time I could crawl. People spoke English, Spanish and Spanglish interchangeably. I visited relatives of moderate wealth and relatives of moderate poverty, ranging from New Jersey to the Dominican Republic itself.

The first time I really felt it - "being the other" - was when I started going to friends houses. I went to friends houses of all cultures - black, white, Hispanic, Asian - and the culture in these homes was palpable. When I entered a white person's home, I was never quite white. In a Hispanic person's home, I was never quite Hispanic, either.

So, what was I? My first language was Spanish but I had forgotten most of it, my skin was brown but not that brown, I spent most of my time with my white family and I didn't have an accent. I ate Rice and Beans and Corned Beef. Empanadas and Pot Roast.

It took me years to figure it out, but I was the quintessential result of the melting pot. I was the perfect blend of two cultures, taking what I needed from each and emerging on the other side unscathed. 

Without the ability to associate with either side of my family alone without feeling as though I was missing out on the other half, I grew prouder and prouder of the place which gave me the opportunity to grow up a blend as I did. I no longer identified as a Dominican/Irish mix. I didn't want to just be "other". So I choose another option.

I was American.

YOU ARE EITHER WITH US OR AGAINST US

Since the 90's, identity politics has been taking hold of the national discourse. While I was identifying more and more as an American, everyone else was identifying as one less and less. They substituted their Americanism for a more divided view of the world. The American experience has always been unique for different groups, and people began to identify politically with that experience, rather than driving towards a unified one.

For me, choosing to identify with an identity other than American would mean lying to myself. It would mean that I was choosing one side of my family against another. I loved both cultures, both sides.

Now, as racial tensions seem to be spiking, I am again stuck in a gray area from which there is no escaping. In the America I grew up in, different even from some of my own cousins, all lives have always mattered. I have seen and been impacted by institutional racism, yet simultaneously benefitted from the American Dream.

It is from this perspective that I push for Unity. As a multi-racial American, my very existence depends on and is the result of post-racialism. To try to drive a wedge between different races, to try and divide instead of unite, is the antithesis to not just the life I have lived, but the person I am.

I believe in America and the melting pot because we multi-raced Americans are that melting pot. We are the post-racial America that people dream about.

My family is living, breathing proof that love overcomes all boundaries. Watching my father uncomfortably meander around my Dominican family's home as they all speak Spanish around him wasn't just entertaining, it was a life lesson.

When you love someone, you look past differences. We need to spend less time figuring out what seperates us as races and instead emphasize on what brings us together as humans.

In that way, America has always been a beacon of hope. Because here, people can break down discrimination and drive forward a better future for their children.

It can continue to be that beacon, but only if we finally start to fulfill Dr. King's dream and judge people not by the color of their skin, but the content of their character.