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| The Beautiful Mixed--Tiffany Tilmon |
It’s the question so many “mixed” people are asked-- “What
are you?” Growing up in a military community-- I was always in a
melting pot of ethnicities. Most of my schoolmates were "mixed." A dear friend of mine -- Tiffany Tilmon--agreed to share her story about
growing up as a mixed woman- who could pass for white.
1)What is your ethnicity? I am black and white
2) When
asked "Hey, what are you?" It is usually because someone already has a
"feeling" I am mixed. I usually tell them half black and half white. It
is what I consider myself when it comes to race.
3) Being that I am
so pale when considering biracial people, I do feel like at times my
skin color can make it difficult to fit in. Particularly when I was
growing up. It was well known that I was mixed. Many of the black kids
wouldn't hang out with me because I wasn't black enough. The white kids
knew I was black, and therefore wouldn't hang with me. Hispanics weren't
a group I hung with or tried to, so I have no reference there. I found
myself hanging with the half Asian/half white kids. I was comfortable
there. As an adult, I find most often it isn't my skin color that
depicts whether I fit in or not, it really falls down on my own
personality.
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| Tiffany's Parents |
4)Do you feel racism still exists?? As a teacher, I am exposed to
learned behaviors in children, that comes from their parents. I believe
racism is one of those behaviors. Do I feel like it is as big a problem
as it has been, no. Do I feel I could move to Jasper, Texas (where the
black boy was drug behind a truck) with my children...no, for fear of
what they would do to my kids if they found out they are multiracial,
their mother is biracial, or that my father is black. As a white looking
woman, people tend to say things that they wouldn't normally if they
knew I was black. It is very obvious that racism exists. Many people
just try to hide it.
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| Tiffany & Her Dad |
5)Do you ever "pass" as white? I pass for white 90% of the time. It is
usually someone who is biracial or has a family member with biracial
children who recognizes that I am mixed.
When I was younger, I had a need to prove who I was. I would carry a
picture of my father around with me in my wallet. I felt that telling
people I was black should have gotten me some sort of prize. I was so
proud of my family and I wanted everyone to know it. My hair not looking
mixed, my skin only looking slightly darker in the summer, my freckles,
and not "acting" black made it hard for people to believe me. I
remember arguing with kids about being black. It took a long time for me
to realize that whether I was believed or not, I was a Tilmon, not a
color. Although my color was a part of me, is a part of me, it does not
define me.
