My Experience As A White Mom Raising A Black Daughter
One day, my two-year-old daughter was climbing the walls in lieu of napping.
Frustrated and longing for a moment of stationery quiet, I buckled her into the car and drove the fifteen minutes into town. Usually, I will drive in the opposite direction of town, out along the country roads as the paddocks unfold around us. On this day though, I drove toward civilization, parked the car at Aldi, then walked up the main street and back, approximately a 30-minute walk. During the walk, we were stopped four times by middle-aged white women who asked if they could touch my daughter's hair.
On each occasion my daughter, herself familiar with this routine, compliantly leant her head forward whilst the stranger ran her fingers through her tight curls, always getting stuck and pulling until my daughter winced and ripped her head away. So cute, so beautiful, they'd say. So weird, I'd think. We live in the Southern Highlands of New South Wales, which is a predominantly white, or anglo community, and my daughter is mixed-race. I am white (and red-headed no less) and her father is black. The last lady, who incidentally provided the impetus to write this essay, pulled her hand away and then said she looked like a toilet brush before breaking out into fits of giggles. We were standing in the line at Aldi by this stage so many other people heard it. Everyone laughed. How adorable.
This kind of scenario is not unusual in our day to day lives and in fact is nothing compared to some others we've encountered. There was the time my Dutch neighbour, a woman in her 60s, cradled my newborn after I brought her home and oohed and aahed and smelt her head and then said, "Oh my, she even smells black."
There was the woman with the strong Scottish accent at the hardware store who asked me three times in varying ways whether my daughter had actually come from my own body and the woman on the train to Sydney who asked where my child had come from. I replied, "Half of her came from me and the other half her father."
There was the person who asked me how old she was when I got her and the woman who practically chased me out of Dan Murphy's to congratulate me on what I was doing, that it was obvious my child and I had an amazing bond. She was practically crying with joy. My first instinct was to grab a bottle of the wine I'd just bought and skull it. I've overheard kids in the supermarket ask their parents why that kid's black and once when I was collecting her from crèche, a young boy ran up to me and said with the greatest astonishment, "Did you know that Frankie comes from another country?"
"No she doesn't," I replied. "Her father does.""Oh," he said shrinking back, slightly perplexed.
But what's my point? There are so many directions one could go. One thing I do notice is that these instances normally occur when I am alone with my daughter, and it is usually other white people who make these comments. I assume that when my partner is there, they realise some sort of line between themselves and him and they are not willing to cross it. Though this is an assumption, of course.
Normally, these occasions are novel and more often than not, I have a delayed reaction. It is on the way home, in the car, half an hour later that I suddenly think, Damn! I should have said that. Usually, to be honest, I just laugh it off. And this bothers me more in many ways. In doing so, I am putting their comfort ahead of mine. I don't say anything back because I don't want them to feel uncomfortable, I don't want to appear rude or combative, in spite of how I or my daughter might feel. What does that say about me?
When I was pregnant, I quite literally avoided reading anything related to pregnancy. I steered clear of other pregnant women and did not change my life a great deal in preparation. I ate shellfish, had the occasional glass of wine, and didn't attend a single prenatal class. But now that I have the child, and even more recently, as she is getting older, I find myself actively seeking out information and anecdotes from others in my situation.
Recent internet searches on my computer are "managing African hair," "caring for black hair," "products for mixed race hair". Most commonly, the comments about my daughter concern her hair. The hair is the ultimate object of fetish when it comes to the mixed-race baby. We quite literally cannot go out into public without receiving multiple comments regarding her hair.
On the whole, they are complimentary or inquisitive and made by people of all races and ethnicities, though given where we live, it is mainly other people who look and sound just like me. Twice, I have met African women who have chastised me for letting her hair grow wild--for allowing some of the curls to form dreadlocks. On both occasions, I have smiled sheepishly, blaming my lack of knowledge regarding the care of my child's hair on my own skin colour. "I only know how to comb white hair," I have said.
It is always easier to just slip back into the stereotype, I suppose.
The little I have found to read about this issue has been interesting, yet hasn't necessarily shed any light on the topic for me. Many black women equate the curiosity others have with their own mixed-race children with the misperception that white is superior to black, that being partially white is better than being not white at all.
For me, I have had the inverse response:
I feel my child is valued because she is partially black.
To me, the curiosity is representative of a more general fascination with blackness and black culture. Many times, I have wondered if people assumed she was adopted because a woman who looked like me could not possibly have given birth to so beautiful a child. And mostly, what I can find to read about it is centered on the experiences of North American people. The politics of race are different in Australia, in particular, because of our failure to address the complex relationship between the First Australians and the rest of us and the gross inequalities that have resulted in that failure for the majority of Indigenous people. I dare say that if my child were half Aboriginal, I would be dealing with a whole different set of circumstances.
You see that's the thing. When someone sees a mixed-race child, they will more often than not project their own perceptions of the politics of race and ethnicity onto that child, whether consciously or not. I have had so many people tell me that my daughter will grow up to be a singer or a model or an actress simply because of the "look" she has. This speaks to the fetishisation of mixed-race children, but it also speaks to their gender as well.
There is a very telling line in British novelist Zadie Smith's novel NW, in which the character, Nathan, tells his childhood friend Keisha that everyone loves a black man when he is a cute little boy, but as soon as he reaches physical maturity they will cross the street to avoid him. The same, I don't think, can be said for their female counterparts. Instead, the image of light-skinned black women such as Rihanna is projected onto my little girl. Already, at two, when she dances people will laugh and comment on how well she "twerks".
In the end, of course, I don't care what my child looks like or what she grows up to be, so long as she is healthy and happy and independent.
Thankfully, my daughter is willfully independent and does not take "no" lying down. So many of my own fears and concerns are assuaged simply by knowing that she will more likely than not have the strength to find her own identity and sense of self outside of what society tells her she is.
But still, in spite of all my best efforts, she is growing up in a society that still does not understand itself and in the end, this will have some affect on who she becomes and how she sees herself in the world. And I suppose the best thing we can do is to share our stories and work our way through it.
Related post:Why Fetishizing Mixed-Raced Children Can Be Dangerous
Camilla Palmer is a Postgraduate researcher in the School of Arts and Media at the University of New South Wales, Sydney, Australia.
Featured image by Eye for Ebony on Unsplash
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ItGirl 100 Honors Black Women Who Create Culture & Put On For Their Cities
As they say, create the change you want to see in this world, besties. That’s why xoNecole linked up with Hyundai for the inaugural ItGirl 100 List, a celebration of 100 Genzennial women who aren’t afraid to pull up their own seats to the table. Across regions and industries, these women embody the essence of discovering self-value through purpose, honey! They're fierce, they’re ultra-creative, and we know they make their cities proud.
VIEW THE FULL ITGIRL 100 LIST HERE.
Don’t forget to also check out the ItGirl Directory, featuring 50 Black-woman-owned marketing and branding agencies, photographers and videographers, publicists, and more.
THE ITGIRL MEMO
I. An ItGirl puts on for her city and masters her self-worth through purpose.
II. An ItGirl celebrates all the things that make her unique.
III. An ItGirl empowers others to become the best versions of themselves.
IV. An ItGirl leads by example, inspiring others through her actions and integrity.
V. An ItGirl paves the way for authenticity and diversity in all aspects of life.
VI. An ItGirl uses the power of her voice to advocate for positive change in the world.
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If you’re like many other people who are prioritizing wellness these days, then attending a wellness retreat might be something to consider. Wellness retreats are a cool way to get the relaxation you’ve been missing in a space with like-minded people who share a common goal. I descended upon my first wellness retreat, the Mind, Body, + Sol Retreat, a couple of weeks ago at the Zoëtry Agua Punta Cana Resort in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic.
Zoëtry Agua is part of the Inclusive Collection for the World of Hyatt. It is nestled on a secluded part of Uvero Alto beach, which has crystal blue waters. The resort itself is picturesque, with its thatched roofs and lazy rivers that make you feel like you’re in a cute little village.
Mindy, Body, + Sol Retreat was hosted by Koya Webb, holistic health and wellness coach and yoga instructor, and it also featured other wellness practitioners who combined provided the ultimate gift of relaxation and getting back to oneself.
The first night was a Welcome Dinner that featured a five-course meal and an opportunity to meet our companions for the next three days. The food was impeccable and the only downside was that I wasn’t able to finish it all. The next day, however, was the official start of the classes, and I was ready to dive in.
Aura and Chakra Reading
Aura and chakra reading
Photo courtesy
My first class was an aura and chakra reading led by Laura McCann and James Levinson, an Asheville, NC couple. I’ve had chakra readings before, but never like this. There was a computer, a camera, and a scanner, which I placed my hand on for the reading. After two minutes, I received a 15-page report explaining my aura and chakra reading.
It breaks down what the colors of your aura are and what your chakras say. My main colors were green and yellow, which were defined by a variety of things. The top of my aura was green, meaning I have a social mental state and I’m a natural healer. My aura on my left side was yellow meaning my energy flowing is optimistic and light and so on.
After James discussed the findings with me, I then met with Laura, who gave me aromatherapy oils from their ADORAtherapy line that represented each chakra. She further explained the results of my chakra reading and shared how each oil can assist. Chakras are the energy centers in our body, and there is a total of seven: root, sacral, solar plexus, heart, throat, third eye, and crown. All of my chakras were high except for my heart chakra, which I have since been working on. I may follow up about that in another article.
Sound Bath
Sound bath class
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Next was the sound bath class. It was located in the spa, which was indoor/ outdoor and the perfect setting for this kind of experience. Andrew Francis and Carrie Bailey of Zenden Meditation were the co-pilots in transporting attendees into a place of tranquility. I laid down, closed my eyes, and allowed the sounds around me to bring me into a relaxing state. From the singing bowls to the wind chimes, I was in heaven. I even fell asleep and got some of the best rest I’ve had in a while. It was a beautiful experience. However, remember when I noted it was an indoor/ outdoor venue? I forgot to put on bug spray and woke up pretty itchy. But it didn’t stop me from enjoying the moment.
Tea Party
Art of Tea Ritual Tea Party
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The last event of the day was the Art of Tea Ritual located in the resort’s tea garden. It was everything you could want in a tea party. Delectable treats such as cookies, cakes, and white chocolate-covered strawberries, which are my fave. And, of course, tea. While I got to sip tea, I also got to make my own tea blend. There were many different teas to choose from, like hibiscus to your regular black tea. I decided to mix rose and mint and I called it RoseMint. I didn’t get to try my tea blend until I got home, and I’ll be honest, it’s probably the best tea I ever had. The tea herbs taste so fresh, and I love how fragrant it smells.
Breathwork
Breathwork Class
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The next morning was all about breathwork. If you exercise regularly, then you probably know the importance of breathing. But there’s more to it besides remembering to breathe during your workout. Margaret Townsend is a breathwork facilitator who helps people achieve wellness by consciously changing their breathing patterns. In her class, I learned to change my breathing pattern for energy as well as for relaxation. While I know that breathing is a relaxation tool, I was blown away to learn that it can also energize you. Because it was a different breathing pattern, I was also able to stay present and keep a steady pace.
Yoga
Koya Webb's yoga class
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The final class of the retreat was evening yoga with Koya Webb, who, as I mentioned earlier, was the host. Her class was held beside the beautiful Uvero Alto beach, which made for a stunning backdrop and the perfect way to end the retreat. It was important for me to get back into my body after not doing yoga for a few weeks, so I was really focused on nailing the moves. However, Koya kept the energy light and fun, evening cracking a few jokes throughout, which made it easy for me to relax and enjoy the moment. She ended the class with a dance break and hugs from our classmates.
The Mind, Body, + Sol Retreat reminded me how important it is to take time to love on myself. Each class was an opportunity to be present and get reacquainted with oneself in the most loving way. Being surrounded by individuals who encouraged my journey was what I needed, and I am so honored to have had this experience.
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