I wondered aloud in last week's post if we'd ever live in a post-racial society.
If the study published on colorlines.com is any indication, even the Millenial Generation believes we need to put the brakes on the idea of a nationwide round of "Kumbaya"—there's still a lot of issues we need to work out. Although the study only interviewed a small group of Millenials (young people ages 18-25) in one area of the country, the people of color unequivocally agreed that systemic racism lies in the criminal justice and employment systems.
And they had personal stories to back up their opinions. The bits of anecdotal evidence provided in the study summary were pretty telling, but I couldn't help but think--is it still really that bad?
Once I saw today's infographic on Colorlines.com detailing the progress of the 40-year-old War on Drugs, I concluded that, yes, it is still that bad.
The infographic is awesome and worth looking at in its entirety. Looking at some of the stats, it's clear that the criminal justice system has not been a friend to communities of color:
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Of all drug arrests, nearly 50 percent are for marijuana. In the South and Midwest, more than half of all drug abuse violations in 2009 were marijuana possession.
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In New York City, young white women and men smoke weed at a higher rate than their black and brown counterparts. Yet the NYPD is seven times more likely to arrest a young black person and nearly four times as likely to arrest a young Latino person for marijuana possession.
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A black woman is 4.8 times more likely than a white woman to be sent to prison for a drug violation.
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One in 9 black children have a parent incarcerated. One in 28 Latino children have a parent incarcerated. One in 57 white children have a parent incarcerated.
Are all of these people in jail actually innocent victims of an unjust system? Of course not. But I find it hard to believe you can look at these stats and not see something greater at work, like the fact that racial profiling does exist, and current drug laws could unfairly target poor people in communities of color. If you put poverty, a broken criminal justice system, and the culture of incarceration together in a mixing bowl, you'll whip up a vicious cycle of oppression every time. A cycle that, with each passing year, is increasingly more difficult to break.
So why does this matter for us mixed people? A) because we should care about what's going on in our society, despite who it affects and doesn't affect; B) many mixed people are often mistaken for one minority group or another, and if people of color are indeed being racially profiled, it's all the more reason to know your rights and be aware of your surroundings.
But perhaps most important is C): how can we ever become a post-racial society when one out of every nine black children and one out of every 28 Latino children will grow up with an intimate knowledge of the criminal justice system, and ever-increasing chances of becoming part of the system themselves? If we ever want to become a society that doesn't look at race, we first have to fix the systems that allow race to be a determining factor in how they function. That not only requires change from Capitol Hill to the city jail, but also a shift in our culture.
It won't happen overnight, but it will be worth it. It may not matter to you now, but to the one black child out of nine, or the one Latino child out of 28, it's the difference between life and death.
Like many people watching television on Nov. 4, 2008, I wanted so badly to believe that seeing a person of color become the leader of the free world meant that race was no longer the cultural and societal factor it once was.
But I couldn't bring myself to do it.
As someone on the narrow line between Generations X and Y, I knew that racism still thrives in this country. It may not exist in the form of ‘colored-only’ water fountains and denied voter registrations, but it definitely lives on in sub-par schools and overflowing prisons.
Nonetheless, I was hoping that there’d been some kind of magical paradigm shift amongst my younger brethren. Perhaps, this newest generation, who is the most diverse and most technologically savvy of any, didn’t look at race like people my age and older did. Maybe race no longer implied a set of lifestyles or beliefs or habits, like it did for the generations of our parents and grandparents. Perhaps race was just another fact of life for our young people.
But I knew better. And a study just completed by the Applied Research Center confirmed I was right.
Staff at the center conducted in-depth focus groups with 80 people ages 18-25 (referred to in this study as millenials) in the Los Angeles area in late 2010 and early 2011. They had thorough discussions about race, if/how it affects their lives, and what it means for our society; two themes emerged:
“One is that Millennials do believe that race still matters. The majority of people in our focus groups continue to see racism at work in multiple areas of American life, particularly in criminal justice and employment. When asked in the abstract if race is still a significant factor, a minority of our focus group participants initially said that they don’t believe it is—and some young people clearly believe that class matters more. But when asked to discuss the impact, or lack thereof, that race and racism have within specific systems and institutions, a large majority asserted that race continues to matter deeply.
Of course, the fact that most Millennials believe race still shapes American life should not mask the very real differences of opinion both across and within racial groups about the extent to which it matters. Which is the second theme that emerged from our focus groups: There are real differences in how young people of different races and ethnicities think and talk about this subject. Young people of color are more likely to independently bring up race, resources and access to them, while white Millennials are less likely to make connections across systems like housing and education, and less likely to prescribe political action to fix it. “
I read the entire report on this study at Colorlines.com, and was admittedly surprised by how the attendees’ responses were not that different from my own peer group. White respondents often referred to racism in individual terms, often using the word you or someone, which implied they didn’t exactly see themselves as part of the equation, or a possible solution. But people of color interviewed shared personal stories of how racism is a systemic problem that’s affected them and those they know. One comment from an African-American male attendee:
"I’ve never seen anything correct about the criminal justice system, so I really don’t know what [it] is. I got pulled over two days ago for no reason. Right on the corner [in South L.A.] where I lived for over 20 years. And that’s not the first time, and I know it won’t be the last."
If I went on Facebook right now and asked people to post about their last run in with racism, they’d have at least one personal experience to share. I bet there’d be several stories similar to what happened to that attendee. It does surprise me that there’s as much as 20 years between the youngest millenial and the oldest person in my peer group, but the stories of racism the people of color in these two groups have are still interchangeable. Have we really not made that much progress? Based on some of the issues reported in this survey, it appears not.
Do you think we’ll ever be post-racial? Or is race always going to matter?
When I cut my hair on October 30, 2010, I said I was going to wait six months until I straightened it. I knew I had to force myself to embrace this new look, this new chapter. This self-imposed hair mandate was the equivalent of mandatory exercise—I'd rather not do it, but I know it'd be the best thing for me in the long run.
But March 30 came and went, and I remained curly. Those six months had passed, but I'd not fully accepted my curls. Wait, let me rephrase---I hadn't accepted the way I looked with curls. I wasn't owning the look yet...I was still kinda borrowing it.
So I waited two more months. I'd booked an appointment with a new stylist that had come highly recommended. When June 3 finally rolled around, I was more psyched about the hair cut I was going to receive than the straightening. I thought it would give my curly fro a new shape, a much needed shape.
I sat in the chair and we chatted while she washed and blow dried my hair. She sectioned my hair and began to flat iron. The stylist picked up a section of frizzy, blow dried hair, mashed it between the two hot plates and pressed it down into silk. With each flattened section that fell on my shoulders, I felt something familiar, like that first glance when you think you see someone you know. I hate to admit it, but when she turned me around in that chair and I looked in the mirror, I saw ME for the first time in eight months.The curly-haired chick had been a stand-in. That girl in the mirror with the pageant hair? That was me.
I left the salon, and on the drive home, I rolled the windows down so the breeze could touch my scalp as my hair blew from root to tip. I looked in the rearview mirror at a stoplight, and I saw a really hot chick staring back at me. Why couldn't I feel this way with curly hair??
So the next week I was going to be out of town for work. The latter half of the week I was in the same town where one of my close friends now lives, so I was glad that this work trip was actually going to turn into a girls weekend.
And that weekend, we partied like we were fresh out of college. Each night, I put my going-out-clothes on, and we hit the streets. And wherever we went, guys gave me a second look, a third look, said something nice. I was told more than a couple of times that my husband was a lucky man. And the look they were giving me---it wasn't the "I wonder what she is" look (you mixies know what I'm talking about); it was the "damn, she's fine" look. Now, guys have looked at me and given me compliments since I went curly. But this was different. There was something about the straight hair.
I couldn't help but wonder 'If I was in this moment with curly hair, would this guy still be talking to me?'
I know in my heart of hearts that guys like girls with straight hair, curly hair, and everything in between. But I can't help but think there is a certain hair bias---that guys will give a polite nod or kind word to the curly girl, but it's the chick with straight hair they mentally undress. What is it, guys? Are the curls and kinks not as sexy because you can't (always) run your hands through it? What's the deal?
Yes, I know some of this is me projecting my own issues. The truth is I like me with curly hair, but I LOVE me with straight hair. I feel hotter and more desirable with straight hair. Perhaps it's not the guys I saw that weekend, but me subconsciously believing that straighter is better, prettier, the type you really want. Look through any women's magazine, and you could fathom how such a brainwashing could occur. But I don't think I'm totally off-base here.
Nonetheless, there's one confirmation I did get out of my straight-hair experience: My hair is effing awesome. I mean, this shit will do anything. You wanna sport a fro? Got it covered. You want silky, glossy strands? We can do that too. One of the many perks of being mixed.
This hair thing, this identity thing---it's a journey. It's just going to take time to see that the curly-haired girl and the straight-haired girl are indeed the same person, and they're both worth any man's second glance.
I have been overweight most of my life. And to make matters worse, I was born into a family of thin people. It wasn't enough that I was the only brown one— I had to be the big one as well. If you look at my face, you can definitely see my mom and that side of the family tree. But from the neck down, I'm all Patterson... broad shoulders, wide hips, thick and muscular.
I was about 9 or 10 years old when my dad's mother told me two things: to never let anyone thin out my hair, because it would thin naturally on its own, and that my hips would be the first thing to grow on me, so I'd have to keep it in check. I remember thinking it odd at the time that she was imparting this bit of life wisdom, but 20 years later, I'll be damned if those weren't the truest words ever spoken to me. As I type this, I can feel hair follicles closing and my jeans tightening. (If she was still with us, I know she'd get a kick out of finding out her prophecy had come true.)
So I spent my formative years with these people who never had to think about their weight, and had never known or been related to heavy people, until me. I always felt I was a thin person trapped in a big body. Needless to say, self-consciousness was a feeling I learned early on. Why couldn't I just be like everyone else?
And who was the person who regularly fueled my fire of anxiety and bad body image? A person I love unconditionally--my outspoken, opinionated redheaded-spitfire grandmother.
My precious Granny has never weighed more than 115 pounds in her life, despite the fact she has subsisted on little more than chocolate cake and Diet Coke for the past 40 years. She is a former dress shop owner, an expert seamstress and all around style maven. And she would never hesitate to say that something looks like crap on you. She sure never hesitated with me.
As a teenager, I spent many uncomfortable Saturday afternoons in the JCPenney dressing room with my Gran. She'd perch her petite self on the bench while I went through the Bataan Death March of clothes-trying-on.
Me, after squeezing into my 37th pair of dress pants: These look pretty good.
Gran: Hmmph. (Grabs extra material at crotch). Too long in the stride. They don't fit. Next pair.
Me: But Gran—
Gran: Next pair.
And with my head hung, I'd grab for the next pair. Did I mention I'm short waisted? In addition to being overweight, there is approximately an inch and a half between my bust and my waist, which makes trying on pants like watching the movie Groundhog Day. You try pair after pair, and guess what? The results never change! They never fit. Never ever fit.
Let me also add that my grandmother has no problem feeling you up in order to ensure proper fit. I'd felt roaming hands many times before there were ever any boys in the picture. Ask my childhood friends—Gran's clothing inspections and subsequent impromptu alterations weren't only reserved for family members. A cold, bony hand in your shirt is a small price to pay for looking your best.
Don't get me wrong, my Gran is one of my favorite people on earth. And it's because of her I know how clothes should fit, and how to look put together at all times. But this is a gift and a curse. Because I have intimate knowledge on how clothes should fit, I feel I look like shit 99 percent of the time. "If my hips weren't so big, I'd have clothes that looked right. If I weighed less, my hips wouldn't be so big..." You see the slippery slope here.
My weight has yo-yoed over the years. I have to work twice as hard as the average person to get one pound to move, so when I do lose weight, it's a small miracle. My struggle with food is a daily one. I think about food all the time, and am very anxious about overeating, which ironically I do often.
Right now, I'm at a point where I don't cringe when I see a photo of myself, which is a major improvement from 10 years ago. I've accepted the following:
that I'm strong, muscular and curvy;
that I will always a round, full face, no matter how many pounds I drop;
that I will always have big thighs, and I should embrace them.
But I have NOT accepted the fact that I am destined to always wear a double-digit clothing size. I'm NOT willing to deny there's a thin person buried underneath all these layers of extra padding. Because I know there is. I feel her attempting to claw to the surface on a daily basis. And with each calorie burned and workout completed, she inches closer and closer to the outside.
And as many years and as much effort as I've spent trying to convince myself otherwise, I desperately want to meet her.
Please forgive me for being super lame and not writing my blog posts.
I’ve actually been wanting to write about this since I got my hair cut, but I wasn’t ready to put keyboard to blog yet. I actually had to figure out how I felt about this new transformation before I could write about it.
So with that, here are six thoughts on being Natural.
1. I like my hair more each day. At first I was freaked out about it, mainly because it was so short. And rather unruly. But in these past six weeks, I’ve come to appreciate that it has a mind of its own, and on some days, it’s just going to look like fried Barbie hair. But on those other days, with the correct product, it’s pretty killer. Which leads me to point number two…
2. Holy shit, I’ve spent a lot on product. I now know the way that I will amass my fortune, and that is my creating a line of natural hair products. Us natural curlies will drop a pretty penny on anything that MIGHT take our shrunken frizz and turn it into glossy, defined ringlets. $50 for four ounces?? Who cares?! It’ll make me fabulous!! That’s what you think at first, until you realize that it takes no less than four products to make you suitable for public consumption. Beneath my sink and in my shower, I have no fewer than 10 products that I use to wash, condition, moisturize, moisturize some more, seal, provide shine and prevent the breaking of my hair. I use four of those every single day. And when I’m not using these products— I’m online, reading about which product I’m going to buy next. It’s a sick addiction, people, and I am a fiend.
3. I’m amused at people’s reactions to my hair. My darling husband once wore dreadlocks that he frequently recalls looked like “Jesus-like silk ropes”, and then spends the next hour regretting cutting them off. So you know he was all about me going natural. He loves the curls. Let me just say, and no curlie of African-American descent will be surprised by this, that white people have been my biggest cheerleaders in this transformation. People I don’t even know have said how cool they think it is, how much younger I look. (However, my own mother said it looked ‘ethnic’. That’s fodder for a whole other post.)
So who were the naysayers, you ask?? It was my fellow brown people. While most of my friends have been very supportive, 99 percent of the people who’ve looked at me quizzically have been black, like they were trying to figure out why someone who looks like me would choose to have hair like this. I’ve even had people NOT MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH ME. This led me to a startling realization….
4. I I didn’t realize how rooted I was in a European aesthetic until I was no longer sporting one. Do I still prefer my long, straight hair? Hell yes. I love my pageant hair, and I’ve worn it proudly for almost 30 years. But that notion of beauty has been ingrained in me since I started thinking about these things. It’s been ingrained in all women since before we could put clothes on our dolls. We were taught that beautiful girls had long, flowing hair and fair skin, and slim hips. To be anything else was to be not classically attractive. I think for most women my age, I can safely say we’re from a generation where we’ve embraced, to varying degrees, that all skin colors are beautiful. That there are many body types and shapes that are attractive. But the hair?? Fried, dyed and laid to the side is still king. Our society has not embraced hair that sticks out instead of laying down—it’s not viewed as pretty. And that’s especially problematic when you’re, like me, in corporate America and do TV interviews as part of your job. But hey, I’ve spent my life doing things no one thought I’d do. Why not try to break a stereotype or two? With all that said…
I’m still nervous about going on television without my hair straightened. See number four for reasons why this is. But my hubs said if I do have an opportunity to do a television interview in the near future, rock the fro. How many people see someone representing a global company with large-and-in-charge curls, he said? He reminded me that during my formative years, I saw people of different shapes and skin tones on television, and now there’s a whole generation of people for whom that is the norm. Why can’t you be that for another generation of girls?? My television appearances are very limited (it’s not like I’m on CNN or anything) but I get his point.
I could not have cut my hair ONE SECOND before I did. It took a series of events to bring me to the point where I was ready to do this. There is so much psychology wrapped up in hair, and what you believe it says about you. Since I’ve been overweight for most of my life, I always thought my hair was one of the main things that made me attractive, desirable, etc. Although I struggled with my hair, and I’ve had some real hair fails, I knew that it could be absolutely fabulous when it wanted to. I might not have a flat stomach or be able to squeeze myself into those size 6 jeans, but I can toss around all these glossy locks. But now that I’m older, I’m coming to appreciate all those other things that make me my fabulous self. As the Hubs would say, I’m more ‘comfortable in my own skin’ than I’ve ever been. I can strip away that one thing that I felt always gave me redeeming value—my locks—and still be pretty kick ass. Am I still anxious about my hair? Of course. But cutting it off was the final proof that I no longer felt I had to hide behind it.
I came across this editorial in the online version of a North Carolina newspaper:
A cross burned in the yard of a local family recently appears at first glance to be little more than a childish prank, but it raises questions about the toxic effects of persistent racism in our country and community, especially for children.
Selena Wilson said when her family returned home on Livingston Cove Road near Fletcher on Friday night, they found a cross made from an ax handle and a piece of wood burning in the yard.
The family had just moved to the neighborhood two weeks ago. The idea that someone might taunt her two biracial children was so foreign to Wilson that she never really discussed racial issues with them, she said.
“This incident hurts,” she said. “Then, it makes you scared and afraid of retaliation. I never thought any of my children would have to see anything like this. I feel sorry for the kids that did this. They are taught hate, and their parents should be held accountable.”
Investigators determined that two boys younger than 16 were responsible, Henderson County Sheriff’s Office Spokesman Capt. Jerry Rice said. Juvenile authorities will decide what action to take, Rice said.
Wilson, meanwhile, says she has had a hard time explaining the incident to her children.
I had to read this twice. Surely, this editorial isn't telling me that there's a mother of biracial children in the South, particularly the rural South, that didn't think to talk to her children about racial issues because she never thought they'd have to deal with it??
Ms. Wilson, you can't be that dense.
I don't know where this family moved from, but it really doesn't matter. To not talk to your biracial children about racial issues is like not sending them to school: you're depriving them of essential knowledge they need to succeed and thrive in this world.
I can't even say this woman didn't have this important discussion with her children because she's white, because there are plenty of white mothers who know how crucial it is to talk to their biracial and multiracial children about race and culture. I also can't say that it's because she was sheltered, because at some point, she was able to meet and date someone of a different race.
So what can it be?? What, as a parent in 2010, would make you believe that you could bring biracial children into this world and they'd never experience some kind of negative behavior based on their race?
Ms. Wilson said she felt sorry for the kids that burned that cross in her yard. I do too, as they obviously need some guidance in the form of a foot in their ass. But I feel equally sorry for the kids of Ms. Wilson, who apparently have a parent that is so removed from the cruel realities of how people treat one another that she didn't think to warn her biracial children about it.
We'd like to think we're gaining momentum toward a post-racial America. We'd love to think that the kids of today will one day live as adults in a world where race and skin color just doesn't matter all that much. But it's naive to operate today under that premise, especially when it comes to raising biracial and multiracial children.
We have to strike a balance. We have to explain to them the why it's important to look past the color of a person's skin, but also tell them what to do when someone doesn't extend them that same courtesy. We have to impart to them the value of tolerance and diversity, but show them how to react when some is obviously intolerant of their differences.
It's unfair that there are children in 2010 still seeing crosses burn and hearing the N word ring in their ears. But to let our kids remain oblivious to these harsh realities until it happens to them---that's the real injustice.
Sorry it's been SO LONG since my last post. Obviously, I have not succeeded in integrating blog time into my daily schedule.
But I'm glad to write and share my excitement with you. The day is quickly approaching—the day I will no longer have permed hair.
Yes, people, the big chop is going down on Friday at Curltopia in Atlanta. By my estimates, it will be the first time since 1992 that I have not had any sort of chemicals in my hair. Almost 20 years. That's a long time for someone who will just be turning 30 in January.
For the past several weeks, I've been nervous about what my hair was going to look like. As I've said in previous posts, I'm deathly afraid of looking like an electrocuted poodle. I've been even more nervous about how to take care of it. I'm not used to having to do something to my hair at night (braiding, twisting, etc.) to make it look decent in the morning. What if I'm a total failure at being natural?? Maybe fried, dyed and laid to the side is just a better lifestyle choice for me.
But then I remembered something my mom always told me: It's just hair. And I've done a million things to my hair over the years— a curly perm in fifth grade, a short hair cut in high school, the introduction of roller sets in college....there were a few hits and a lot of misses. But hair is a tool for reinvention, and when something doesn't work, you just change it. This particular adoption of a new style is no different, in many respects. If I don't like it, then we go back to the drawing board.
But there is one difference with this particular trip to the salon, and I think it's the fact that I really want to fall in love with this particular style. Because unlike all of those other hairdos, which required me to manipulate my hair in ways it didn't necessarily, this one is an adoption of my God-given hair, with all its curls and coils and frizz. And I so desperately want to look in the mirror and like the genetic cards I've been dealt.
So we'll see. I'll definitely post on Friday with a blow-by-blow of the whole experience.
Thanks to this blog, I've been doing a lot of web surfing. There's a virtual cornucopia of information out there on all things mixed race.
But there are a few sites that I think could be of great interest to Mixies. Check out the following:
- Mixed and Happy: This site is an incredible resource for mixed couple or biracial people. Focusing on establishing a healthy view of interracial relationships and biracial/multiracial children, blogger Suzy Richardson incorporates stories and photos of families, weddings and children with guest blog posts, and the latest news and helpful tips about mixie life (e.g. hair) to create a go-to resource for blended families. Suzy's also worked hard to create a robust online community. Seeing the insights of others via the comments section is very interesting.
- Curly Nikki: If you want to see what others who are transitioning or natural do with their hair, this is the place to go. Nikki, who is a practicing psychotherapist, gives people a place to not only show their hair and their routine, but also talk about what it means to them and how it affects their life. Deep stuff. If you're just starting on your natural hair journey, or need tips, it's worth your while to check out this site.
- SBlended Blend: SBlended (Supporting Biracial Leaders Establishing Nationwide Diversity Every Day) is an online community I've just recently joined. There's an existing network of Mixies here ready to discuss a variety of issues. I just posted in one of the forums about my hair (of all things), and I got several comments, thanks to community leader and blogger Sonia keeping the conversation going. There's a number of forums and topics in this community, though, so check out what's being said on a number of issues.
- Pretty Big Afro: I'm so excited to announce this new site, started by my good friend/sorority sister, Stephanie Stephens. For those of us in areas where you can't find certain product lines, this is the place to go to get them. Don't see the product you're looking for? Don't fret, the inventory will continue to grow, as this is a new site—so keep checking back. In addition to products, Stephanie will also showcase the stories of natural and transitioning beauties.
- Naturally Curly: When I started transitioning, this was my first web stop. It has an amazing amount of information on curly hair of all types, including product reviews, a salon locator and more. The salon reviews helped me to narrow down my search on where to get the Big Chop. And if you want to order products, check out CurlMart. Sign up for the emails to find out about sales.
Thanks to this blog, I've been doing a lot of web surfing. There's a virtual cornucopia of information out there on all things mixed race.
But there are a few sites that I think could be of great interest to Mixies. Check out the following:
Which sites do you regularly visit?
Ok, so Scott and Amy Ness are not biracial, but I have a deep admiration for anyone who takes in children who need homes, especially kids that don't look like them!
See the story from the Del Marva Daily Times:
Scott and Amy Ness of Hebron have been nominated as one of the congressional "Angels in Adoptions" by Maryland U.S. Sen. Ben Cardin.Their story began when they became foster parents after having three children of their own. The Nesses were approached by a single mother who wanted them to adopt her biracial baby. Without hesitation they welcomed the baby girl into their family. They later adopted eight siblings, some of whom had serious addiction and health issues. The Nesses also adopted the biracial sibling of their first adopted child after the mother asked them to take her second child. In all, Amy and Scott Ness have adopted 10 children, eight of whom are biological siblings from one family and two of whom are biological siblings from another family.
The Congressional Angels in Adoption program is sponsored by the Congressional Coalition on Adoption Institute (CCAI), which is a non-partisan, non-profit organization dedicated to raising congressional and public awareness about the tens of thousands of foster children in this country and the millions of orphans around the world in need of permanent, safe, and loving homes.
Sen.Cardin is a member of the CCAI’s Advisory Board. The Angels in Adoption program was created in 1999 to raise public awareness of the many different ways that committed individuals can help children and families through adoption.
This year’s nominees will be honored at a national ceremony in Washington, D.C. on Oct. 6 sponsored by CCAI.
I'm so excited for the Ness family, who deserve every accolade they can get! I was lucky enough to have a loving home, but so many are not. That these people would take two biracial children, as well as eight others with addiction and health issues, and raise them along with their own three children as one big happy family is beyond moving to me. I love to see people redefining what family means. And now, we'll have 13 more people in this world who will grow up knowing firsthand what it means to know someone who looks different, who has a different background and has different issues, and still love them for who they are. That's a step in the right direction!
I've decided that Wednesdays at What Are You will be dedicated to a Mixie who is kickin butt and takin names.
And I don't think I could've found a better one for our inaugural Mixie Crush of the Week: Hines Ward.
(courtesy of MidwestSportsFans.com)
Who is Hines Ward, you non-sports fans may ask? Let me tell you, not only is he a fine specimen of man who's fierce on the football field, but he's also the newest edition to President Obama's Advisory Commission on Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders.
(courtesy of KoreanBeacon.com)
If I wasn't married already, and actually liked the Steelers, I'd go all groupie on this guy. I admit it.
Here's the details from Ron Cook's column from the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette:
Ward is one of 16 people to be appointed to President Barack Obama's Advisory Commission on Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders. He will be sworn in at a ceremony tonight at the U.S. Capitol. The commission works to improve the quality of life and opportunities for Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders by providing advice to the president, as well as to education secretary Arne Duncan and commerce secretary Gary Locke.
"Imagine the president picking me to be a face of Asian Americans all over the world. Me? Me?" Ward said, grinning the grin that you see every time the Steelers play. "I thought it was a huge honor when they told me I was going to be one of the candidates. But I never thought I'd actually be picked."
Ward is a future Hall of Famer. He owns virtually every Steelers pass receiving record and, in his 13th NFL season, still is going strong. He has been a part of two Super Bowl-winning teams and was MVP of Super Bowl XL.
But the best thing about Ward is how he's using his celebrity as a professional athlete to help Asian Americans, here and in his native Korea. What good is fame and fortune if you can't use it to benefit others? After Super Bowl XL, Ward started the Hines Ward Helping Hands Foundation, which assists mixed-race children who face discrimination. He's making sure that a problem many want to keep quiet gets plenty of attention.
"I lived through what those kids are living through," Ward said. He was born to a Korean mother and an African American father in 1976 in Seoul, South Korea. "It's amazing that they're still facing discrimination," Ward said. "It's almost like the stuff that was happening in the '70s and the '60s. Maybe it isn't that bad, but it's still there."
Ward gave $1 million to start his foundation. He has returned to Korea each offseason since 2006 to mentor biracial children. He also brings Korean kids to stay with American families for a week each football season.
"It's all about building self-confidence," Ward said. "A lot of these kids have self-esteem issues. Many are considered outcasts where they live. I know what they're going through. I experienced some of the same things they are. I just want to show them that they can turn the negativity into a positive and be successful in life."
Since I don't follow the Steelers closely, I had no idea about his foundation. I'm so impressed that he is using his celebrity and his money to help kids of a certain biracial combination that experience abnormally high levels of discrimination and hate.
The fact that he is taking his knowledge and experiences and using it to improve the lives of those coming after him is really moving to me. If I had money, I'd totally write a check to this foundation. We need more people like this, especially considering that the next generation will most likely have more mixed race children than ever before. We need to support one another!
Read more about Ward's foundation here.
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