A New Leaf
At this point in my life, I've decided that it is time to start up a new blog with an important topic that has been on my mind for quite some time now. For those of you who know me, I just recently got married to the man of my dreams and am on cloud-9 in my new role as a wife. With this new duty, come lots of thoughts that flood into my brain upon our decision to move forward as a family.
My husband Jacob, is African-American and I am White. We have navigated the biracial couple thing thus far with incredible grace and elegance, and our families and friends alike have been nothing but supportive. There has never been a racial tension between our private worlds, however, we live in an incredibly outdated racist social climate that is still very real and very dangerous.
Prior to dating a black man, I never once thought about what it must feel like to be a person of color and to be pulled over. I never feared the police, in fact, quite the contrary; I viewed them solely as protectors and heroes. I never had to speak a certain way to try to impress people so that I did not fall into the negative stereotypes that were given to my race. I also never had to be told that I was more like a different race based off of how intelligent I sounded or the way that I acted or dressed.
Jacob was raised by an incredibly intelligent father and mother who both wanted the best for their children. His parents received excellent educations and both graduated from college and obtained high-status careers. They raised their son to dress, speak, act right and shaped him to be a kind, mindful and tender human being with a great head on his shoulders. This is something that any person should be proud of. However, my husband was instead made out to feel like he didn't fit into any singular category and was somehow different than how he inherently "should" be. He was told that he was an "oreo"...black on the outside but white on the inside. He was often told by individuals that he was "not like most black people that they knew". After hearing more and more stories about my husbands childhood, I couldn't help but feel disheartened and outraged by the things that I was hearing. Why have we so wrongfully attached these degrading and simply invalid stereotypes to different races and cultures? More importantly, why have these henious stereotypes carried over to modern day? To be an American in its truest sense means to be someone who is accepting of all ethnicities, cultures, socioeconomic classes and backgrounds and so forth, yet we have completely failed in regards to all of these categories.
I am a firm believer in the theory that hate and any form of discrimination is not inherent, rather that it is taught.
My whole life, I never saw color or disability or rich or poor. What I genuinely saw as a child were peoples spirits and individuality and I was instantly captivated and intrigued by anything or anyone that was different from me. I was always friends with the deaf kids, the kid in the wheelchair, the minorities, the elderly, as well as individuals with mental disorders. My mother always thought that it was so interesting that in a group full of children playing, I would choose to sit next to my great-grandmother who was suffering from Alzheimer's in the nursing home rather than run around with the other kids. When I would shop for Barbies, I always wanted the black or indian dolls. This was something that my mother always valued though, perhaps because she grew up in an era where she wasn't given the option to decide for herself.
My mother never told me what I should or should not like, she simply allowed me the opportunity to choose on my own will. I believe that since I was able to choose and decide things for myself without the assistance of any adult opinion, I was successful in never developing that evil-voiced perspective or those negative racist stereotypes.
I whole-heartedly believe that it is my mission in this life to bring clarity and understanding to those individuals who were taught hate. It is my mission to reinvent the understanding of what a family is suppose to look like. My husband and I plan on bringing children into this world in the near future, and although there will be plenty of hurdles for us to overcome, I have never felt more sure of a mission to complete in my entire life. It is time to reinvent the image of love and family and update it to a modern reality. Come with me on my journey of discovery. . .
xx
Kristina Marie Seigler
My husband Jacob, is African-American and I am White. We have navigated the biracial couple thing thus far with incredible grace and elegance, and our families and friends alike have been nothing but supportive. There has never been a racial tension between our private worlds, however, we live in an incredibly outdated racist social climate that is still very real and very dangerous.
Prior to dating a black man, I never once thought about what it must feel like to be a person of color and to be pulled over. I never feared the police, in fact, quite the contrary; I viewed them solely as protectors and heroes. I never had to speak a certain way to try to impress people so that I did not fall into the negative stereotypes that were given to my race. I also never had to be told that I was more like a different race based off of how intelligent I sounded or the way that I acted or dressed.
Jacob was raised by an incredibly intelligent father and mother who both wanted the best for their children. His parents received excellent educations and both graduated from college and obtained high-status careers. They raised their son to dress, speak, act right and shaped him to be a kind, mindful and tender human being with a great head on his shoulders. This is something that any person should be proud of. However, my husband was instead made out to feel like he didn't fit into any singular category and was somehow different than how he inherently "should" be. He was told that he was an "oreo"...black on the outside but white on the inside. He was often told by individuals that he was "not like most black people that they knew". After hearing more and more stories about my husbands childhood, I couldn't help but feel disheartened and outraged by the things that I was hearing. Why have we so wrongfully attached these degrading and simply invalid stereotypes to different races and cultures? More importantly, why have these henious stereotypes carried over to modern day? To be an American in its truest sense means to be someone who is accepting of all ethnicities, cultures, socioeconomic classes and backgrounds and so forth, yet we have completely failed in regards to all of these categories.
I am a firm believer in the theory that hate and any form of discrimination is not inherent, rather that it is taught.
My whole life, I never saw color or disability or rich or poor. What I genuinely saw as a child were peoples spirits and individuality and I was instantly captivated and intrigued by anything or anyone that was different from me. I was always friends with the deaf kids, the kid in the wheelchair, the minorities, the elderly, as well as individuals with mental disorders. My mother always thought that it was so interesting that in a group full of children playing, I would choose to sit next to my great-grandmother who was suffering from Alzheimer's in the nursing home rather than run around with the other kids. When I would shop for Barbies, I always wanted the black or indian dolls. This was something that my mother always valued though, perhaps because she grew up in an era where she wasn't given the option to decide for herself.
My mother never told me what I should or should not like, she simply allowed me the opportunity to choose on my own will. I believe that since I was able to choose and decide things for myself without the assistance of any adult opinion, I was successful in never developing that evil-voiced perspective or those negative racist stereotypes.
I whole-heartedly believe that it is my mission in this life to bring clarity and understanding to those individuals who were taught hate. It is my mission to reinvent the understanding of what a family is suppose to look like. My husband and I plan on bringing children into this world in the near future, and although there will be plenty of hurdles for us to overcome, I have never felt more sure of a mission to complete in my entire life. It is time to reinvent the image of love and family and update it to a modern reality. Come with me on my journey of discovery. . .
xx
Kristina Marie Seigler
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