I Do Not Look Right.If you looked at my scrapbook of my mother's side of the family, one would notice a little white child.
That would be me. I have blue eyes, light brown hair, and freckles, but I was raised with the stories of my Native people, the Lumbee. Around my family, I never noticed how I looked different. But there was a day where I found everybody else notices.
I used to have a Mexican boyfriend, and we went into a Native American store together. I never thought to tell him how I was raised. So I went to the front desk asking "hello, what tribe are you from?" and my boyfriend began to laugh. When I explained how I was raised and naturally curious, he laughed and said "you realize you're white, right?"
Nobody ever questioned if he was Mexican. He was short, tan, with dark hair. He was lucky.
I always put down that I am a Mixed Race baby because I'm proud to be that way, no matter how I look.
Why do others make it so hard to be proud of my hertage? Why would so many people want to not include me for my looks?