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Interracial Identity Essay

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My mother has blonde hair, green eyes, and a skin condition known as rosacea that turns her milky skin pink. My siblings, Alina, Analise, and Petr, each have light brown hair, brown or hazel eyes, and white skin. They are adopted from Romania and though they are all related to each other, they are not related to me or our parents. My father has coarse salt-and-pepper hair, dark brown skin, and hairy arms.
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I am Sicilian and I claim no race. Ever since I can remember, the color of my skin has always been of intrigue. When I was a baby, my mother’s family, the white side of my family, took to calling me coffee bean. The color of coffee beans as a baby, faded into creamy dandelion hue as an adult, only to be darkened to hazelnut each …show more content…

The United States categorized Sicilians as Southern Italians, which is wrong. However, the US has not always done this. Sicilians have immigrated to the United States in waves and depending when they came over, they would have also been classified as negro, and made into slaves or segregated. When my own grandparents arrived in the United States, they sold fruit on the side of the road from a cart, and had people call them derogatory terms and throw eggs at them.
Sicilians are not people of color, though we do face discrimination for the color of our skin. We aren’t white, because to be white would mean to be included in a history of domination and free from encountering bigotry. While once considered the European black, Sicilians are not black. And though commonly mistaken for hispanic, or latinx, we are neither of those either.
I am tired of having to explain the color of my skin. Just because it is visible, does not make it open for public concern. Regardless of if it is asked as race, or “racial identity,” I have accepted that there is no race for me.
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My brother’s blond curls frame his face as he hangs onto my mother’s fingers, looking around the room wide-eyes. I sit in a stroller nearby. Mom talks to her friend about the adoption process and how she loves her children so much. The lady bends over and looks at me, smiling with rosy cheeks. “Well she is just precious, where

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