My husband and I just celebrated 10 years of marriage. Over the years we’ve experienced quite the range of reactions to our interracial relationship. I’m black, and my husband is white. Most of the time, the looks from strangers have been kind and most questions have been just out of curiosity, but some have been quite strange.
Here are five common answers my husband and I have had to give.
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1. Yes, I think my kids will be cute, but not because they’re biracial.
This is a response to the oh-so-popular statement, “Your biracial kids are going to be SO cute!” First of all, we don’t need the pressure, and secondly, I think our kids are cute, but because they are our kids, not just because they are biracial.
2. No, I’m not the nanny.
When my daughter was first born her curls were very lose, almost straight, and her skin was much lighter than mine. People would frequently ask if she was mine, or if I was babysitting her. It bothered me that people would assume that I was a babysitter before they’d assume I’m her mother.
Whatever you do, don’t call my biracial child a mutt.
3. She’s from my uterus.
Occasionally someone will assume we adopted our children, and be bold enough to ask us “where” we got them. This happens more often with my husband. He doesn’t mind correcting curious minds, but I told him from now on I’m going to tell people we got them from my uterus.
4. I consider him/her… My child.
When people ask me what race I consider my children or if they are black or white I tell them both, or that I consider them my children. What else matters? Oh, but whatever you do, don’t call my biracial child a mutt.
5. Yes, I’m sure s/he’s mine.
This one is especially for the daddies out there who get the confused look when out with their kids alone. When our kids were smaller and I would be out alone with them, people would ask if I was their mom, and now when my husband ventures out with our curly-headed kids by himself, some people will ask him questions about their mom’s background or… On the worst days, question if he’s really their father.
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At home we don’t often think about our interracial family. We’re just mom, dad, son and daughter. But questions like these remind us not everyone sees our family as normal. Hopefully some day that will change, and maybe I won’t need to stockpile my comebacks for silly questions.