The Two Races of Tennessee

by Patrice Farmer
February/March 2001

I had found utopia, a place we could be free of outright hatred and prejudice, my daughter and I. I had found a place in the Southern Appalachian mountains where good ole southern values were still practiced, where people still said, Ma'am and Sir, and where people still canned their foods and quilted by hand. Sure, people stared at us, being such a strange sight, I guess. I am multiracial with mixed features, hair and skin color. My daughter is multi/biracial with white skin, blond hair and blue eyes. People looked, but no one shouted at us like in Detroit, no one burst out laughing in our faces when we tried to board the bus, no one spat at me for being a race 'traitor' or called my daughter a honkey. Here, people looked and turned their heads if they had a problem with you, and I could accept that. Mostly, they were so friendly, it was scary at first. And people apologized for everything: I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I was in heaven, until I had to fill out a few forms. That's when I began to see the two races of Tennessee.

My first time was at the doctor. They had me fill out a few forms and under race there were only two choices: Black or White. When I wrote in Multiracial, I was told that I had to write in one of the recognized races!!! I was alone without my daughter and I got a few looks from these southern white women who was looking at a Northern multiracial woman. I said, but I'm multiracial, I'm mixed with four races, and I recognize all of them! One of the kind nurses replied under her breath, "Bologna!", as if I was clueless of her motive. When I vehmently requested that I be called Multiracial, I was told, after they had consulted with an higher up, that I had to choose one or the other.

Photo: Patrice Farmer and her daughter

Another situation was with my daughter in which the woman was distressed when I drew in my own little box and placed multiracial. Again, she had to consult a higher up, and still seemed distressed as she glanced from me to my daughter. Finally, she agreed to put multiracial after about a ten minute battle over the issue. I told her, I don't see the problem, I don't understand why there seems to be such a problem in this state! She said that usually they go by the race of the father, and I said, "Well, my father's white (He's half Puerto Rican too, but to irritate her), she was was not going to put me down as white, not with my curly brown hair and light brown skin. She finally placed multiracial on the floor, though grudingly.

I've noticed it also at the University I attend which is almost all white, with a very segregated minority of Blacks, Asians and Hispanics.

Here, I've experienced the typical experience many mixed people do with African Americans and whites. The black students won't speak a single word to me, even the older students like myself. I've had several instances involving the use of the terms 'weave' and "trying to be white", in reference to me. These students, I don't know because they have never given me the opportunity to know them, are worst than the white students. Some white students are willing to converse, while others, obviously are angered by me. I even had two white girls speak in front of me that "I must've gotten a perm to try to be white'. They seem to not understand the difference between white and black perms and the fact that I am mixed with white, and have naturally curly hair.

Clearly, in living here nearly six months, I've learned that race mixing is still frowned upon. And a mix person represents that fear. Several times, I've been on obvious display, sort of speak, as older whites have stared at me and then to a monoracial black person, as comparison, as if I were the very first mixed person they'd ever seen. Even though these occurances are nothing near the experiences of living in my hometown of Detroit. My adopted city in Tennessee still reminds me of how far we truly have to go! I may not get verbally and physically harrassed, like I did from blacks. But, I still get soul-burning stares from whites instead, as if to say, "What right do you have to be with that white child?"

I am afterall in a world of two races here… living in the beautiful mountains where people still say 'howdy' and give as much as they can offer. Where they still value family, religion, community, and heritage over everything else. And where they like their blacks, blacker and their whites even whiter. I've grown in moving here, I'm no longer as angry and defensive as I was just a few months earlier. But, I am still aware, because racial issues still affect me on a daily basis.

I'm more at peace than I've ever been but not satifsfied with the way things are! I'm still an activist deep down within, from the time I stood in front of my highschool with a sign around my body, with "Columbus Was A Murderer" to the present, with my God-given protest against racial hatred-myself and my daughter. Sometimes, I even get to forget that America still hasn't moved past colonial days in their beliefs toward Multiracial people. And unless we as mixed people are willing to introduce those people to interracial families, that is where they'll stay. And our children will have to fight the battles we were unwilling to fight!

Patrice Farmer is moderator of Mixed Families at Yahoo! Groups