Columnist Intro: Liz
by Anti-Racist Parent Columnist Liz Dwyer
I grew up being called, “white sugar” by my maternal grandmother. My cousin was the “brown sugar”. My grandmother would good-naturedly say that white sugar was the sweetest. Needless to say, my browner-skinned cousin didn’t like me very much.
I was the white sugar because I’m the child of an Irish-American father and an African-American mother. Growing up, I was asked by my black peers, “Why didn’t you get the ‘good hair’ like all the other mixed girls?” I remember the white girls who told nine year-old me that if I ate some of their hair and prayed really hard, my hair would turn long and straight like theirs. To my eternal shame, I actually tried this and almost stopped believing in God because it didn’t happen.
However, talking about racism and, more importantly, how to achieve racial unity, was normal in my Midwestern home. My parents are a natural model of racial unity just by being together. They included me in conversations about race and encouraged me not to be color-blind, but to instead see and love the diversity in the human family. But, please don’t think it was some easy utopia, because it wasn’t. It’s no fun to constantly watch your parents stand in line together at the grocery store only to get asked, “Are you together?”
I’m now married to a great African-American guy and we’re raising our own sons, ages six and three. After the birth of our first son, I was fascinated by the questions that we were asked by a few well-meaning friends and relatives phoning from the Midwest. Once they were assured the baby was healthy, they got to the real important stuff: Was the baby light-skinned or dark? Did he get some throwback blue eyes or red hair from those Irish roots? We had to think about what it means to raise a sane, healthy child in a society so steeped in racist ideology.
One of the things to know about our family is that we don’t live in some monochromatic suburb. We live in Los Angeles proper, one of the most diverse cities in the world. Our little neighborhood alone is roughly 50% Latino, 30% white, 17% Asian, and 2% black. Yes, this city has the historical legacy of the LA Riots and the OJ Simpson trial. Yes, last year there were rumors swirling that Latino gangs were going to target and shoot all black males they saw out on the streets, and city officials are now calling the animosity and violence between blacks and Latinos in LA the equivalent of racial genocide.
We are also Baha’is so our religious foundation is a belief that achieving racial unity is the most challenging issue facing our society. Modeling a vision of race unity is a social and moral imperative in our home. Our close friends come from all racial and ethnic backgrounds and my husband’s best friend here happens to be Latino. Our sons play with his son. Given what’s going on in LA, this is a big deal.
I know I need to prepare my sons for a world filled with negative images and beliefs about black men. My sons are likely to be treated as behavior problems in school and have low academic expectations set for them. Sometimes when people comment about how cute and sweet my boys are, there’s a voice in my head that says, “Yeah, and in ten years you’ll be scared of them because they’re black.”
I feel angry when I can’t shield my eldest son from the girl in his kindergarten class who told him his brown skin is ugly. That was bad, but then there was the day he told me he wished he could be like a snake.
“Why do you want to be a snake?” I asked.
He rubbed the top of my hand as he slowly replied, “Well, snakes shed their skin, right?”
I answered that they did and he continued, “So, if I’m a snake, I can get rid of my brown skin and be white like you.”
I felt like a failure. It didn’t seem like enough to explain that his brown skin is beautiful, that God made him that color…and by the way, I’m not white. It broke my heart because I didn’t want to have these conversations with my own kids.
I know that the things worth having in life don’t come easy. Even though there’s still a long way to go in terms of achieving racial unity, I have to keep going. If my two boys grow up secure in their inherent nobility as black men, and have love for all people, regardless of their skin color, then I’ve done my job as a parent. I just have to believe it can be a reality.
Liz Dwyer lives in Los Angeles with her husband of seven years, Elarryo Bolden and her two sons, ages six and three. Her great sense of adventure and desire to learn about diverse cultures took her to Guangzhou, China where she taught English to third and fourth graders, picked up some Mandarin, and managed to get into seven bike accidents. Liz also taught in Compton, CA for three years and now works for national education non-profit, Teach For America. She loves to write and reflect on the world around her and has blogged for over two years at Los Angelista’s Guide to the Pursuit of Happiness.
Carmen Van Kerckhove is co-founder and president of 
Jae Ran wrote:
Liz, welcome to Anti Racist Parent. I really loved your post and am looking forward to more of your writings.
Posted 09 Mar 2007 at 8:24 am ¶
daddyinastrangeland wrote:
Welcome aboard, Liz, from one biracial ex-teacher (who used to in the neighborhood next to yours!) to another. Been lurking on your blog since following a link from Meera’s, and I’m glad to see you here!
Posted 09 Mar 2007 at 9:58 am ¶
Meera Bowman Johnson wrote:
Hi Liz, it’s so nice to have you in the ARP family! I’m looking forward to sharing stories with you as we strive to raise well-adjusted, open-minded children in this crazy, mixed up world. Welcome!
Posted 09 Mar 2007 at 10:56 am ¶
Kim wrote:
Liz…
the skin-shedding incident is a traumatic one to process, and know your son ruminated on and decided was best for him. Traumatic for you, and doubly so, because of what he slept and walked with each day to take him there.
That takes my breath away. Here’s to your Mommy muscle: clap, clap, hug.
Welcome.
Posted 09 Mar 2007 at 11:11 am ¶
Liz Dwyer wrote:
Jae Ran,
Thank you for the warm welcome!
DiaSL,
Goodness, we have quite a bit in common! Thanks for your warm wishes and glad you are deciding to de-lurk yourself on my blog.
Meera,
All because of you. Gracias.
Kim,
Yes, I can’t help but think how my son must have certainly turned everything over in his mind before he decided that the solution was to become a snake. It’s been a couple of months and I still need the hugs over it.
Posted 09 Mar 2007 at 4:08 pm ¶
Denise wrote:
Beautiful post. I worry about my adopted Haitian son going through the same things. I put lotion on him each night, and one night, when he had not been here too long, he asked me if the lotion was to make his skin white like mine. Broke my heart. I have spent every day since consciously thinking of every way I can help him to be proud of who he is.
I look forward to reading more… going to check out your blog!
Posted 09 Mar 2007 at 5:51 pm ¶
Kathy wrote:
Liz, This is a very powerful post and the painful recounting of your son’s desire to have
white skin is so heartbreaking.
You share how you felt like a failure and did not want to have these
kinds of conversations with your own kids. I
have times when I feel the same exact way.
It must have been painful to write this post.
I am glad you shared.
Posted 09 Mar 2007 at 7:54 pm ¶
cloudscome wrote:
Welcome Liz! This is a really powerful post. I am so glad we can share these journeys together. Your writing about your heartbreak and desire to raise your sons “secure in their inherent nobility as black men, {with a} love for all people, regardless of their skin color” is so helpful and inspiring to me. I look forward to reading more.
Posted 10 Mar 2007 at 5:50 am ¶
Susan wrote:
Liz, I thought this was a really eloquent, powerful and painful post. I look forward to reading more of your work.
Posted 10 Mar 2007 at 10:49 am ¶
Rachel wrote:
Great post. I look forward to hearing more from you. It was interesting to read your perspective on race relations in Southern California. I live in Long Beach, and despite recent events here, I’d like to think that hate is the exception and not the rule.
Posted 10 Mar 2007 at 10:58 am ¶
Hilary wrote:
What a great column. I was saddened by a sentiment I have also heard from other mothers of brown skinned boys:
“Sometimes when people comment about how cute and sweet my boys are, there’s a voice in my head that says, “Yeah, and in ten years you’ll be scared of them because they’re black.” ”
This really moved me. It is so hard to not look seemingly benevolent comments rankle because of the reality you are already facing with your boys.
Posted 10 Mar 2007 at 11:19 am ¶
Kye Wilson wrote:
Yeah Liz!!!! This was great, I am sure Elarryo, you and I will have a nice long conversation about this issue again soon as we have so many times before. You and Lar and my sister and brother-in-law are all inspiration to me. And of course I love all 5 of the kids to death. Hopefully I subscribed to the right link above so I can get your future articles. I have lots to learn from the 4 of you prior to me becoming a parent, or even getting married. And FYI, great picture!! You look like you like a LA model!!!! Are you trying to shake your midwestern roots?
Love you, Kye
Posted 10 Mar 2007 at 10:33 pm ¶
Maria wrote:
Liz, thank you for post. Just last night my husband and I discussed how to handle a situation like you had with your son, our biracial daughter will be born with an older “white” sister, (to an almost “translucent” Mom!) and we know there will be so many questions… I hope I can handle them!
Posted 12 Mar 2007 at 4:34 pm ¶
Lena-Prudence wrote:
Liz,
I am so proud of you for asking those difficult questions that so desperately need to be asked.
Posted 15 Mar 2007 at 12:13 am ¶
Liz Dwyer wrote:
Everyone,
Thank you so much for your kind words and for being so supportive. The experiences I’ve had, that we’ve all had are painful and make it all the more apparent why it is that we must collectively mobilize ourselves to do, as Gandhi said, “Be the change you want to see in the world.”
Posted 15 Mar 2007 at 12:15 am ¶
Kim wrote:
” My grandmother would good-naturedly say that white sugar was the sweetest.”
Whoa…I just registered this line.
Wow. We have injured each other in so many ways, in such a benign and consistent manner.
Hope your cousin was able to heal, and know his/her own worth is not oppositional to your own.
Posted 30 Mar 2007 at 12:07 am ¶
Liz wrote:
Kim,
You know, we’ve never talked about it. We didn’t like each other too much growing up and now only speak at funerals. Sometimes I wonder if the comments we heard as little girls are the root of it all.
Posted 03 Apr 2007 at 9:50 pm ¶
Kim wrote:
Liz,
Last night I picked up the audiobook of ‘Sweet and Low,’ by Richard Cohen, and hope it opens to me more of the doorways to the past that hearing the author in interview almost a year ago did.
In short, this grandchild of the founders of the sugar substitute, ‘Sweet & Low,’ recollects the family’s matriarch and his own estranged branch and their ultimate disinheritance. (Either his mother or father is the child of the founders of the sweetener.)
One story recounted during the radio interview on NPR last year was a party for the grandmother where names of the grandkids were picked out of a hat, with the name chosen being the recipient of some great prize. At the end of the day, it was discovered that the grandmother had stuffed mounds of strips of paper with the ‘favored’ grandchild’s name on it to ensure that child’s win.
That single moment, the author recounted, cemented for his older brother the understanding of their place in the family (outsiders to the grandmother, herself a child of a parent who had suicided and who made it known that she herself would rather have not parented.) The disinheriting was merely the final public act of severing ties with her own kin.
I say this merely to say, ‘it goes deep,’ and we may never know how it all got started, or is so entrenched in our families.
I was riveted to hear Cohen’s recollections, and knew it a read I would one day do. Still will, but for now, I will walk with him in my ears.
Posted 03 Apr 2007 at 10:28 pm ¶
HeidiT wrote:
I am so incredibly grateful for this blog. I live and teach in a mostly Caucasian area with some Sto:lo people (the predominant Native community), and a few other racial groups. It pains me when beautiful children of colour tell me they would rather be white. I usually tell them beauty is not a colour, and it’s peoples attitudes that need to change; not their skin.
I am also glad of discussion that informs me of any racist ideas or behaviours of my own that I am unaware of. Sometimes we don’t know something is offensive until we are told by someone on the receiving end of it. Few people want to cross boundaries, but we all need to know what they are in order to respect them.
Thanks a million,
Heidi
Posted 30 Jan 2008 at 6:24 pm ¶