Metro UK: Mixed Up: ‘Yes, you can still be racist even if you have mixed-race kids’

‘It’s crazy to think that in the not-so-distant past our very existence was seen as an abomination, yet today people of mixed heritage are the fastest-growing minority group in the UK.

Metro UK: Mixed Up: ‘Yes, you can still be racist even if you have mixed-race kids’
Kristel Tracey

Kristel Tracey is about to become a mum for the first time – she wants people to realise that having a mixed-race family doesn’t automatically mean racist or problematic attitudes disappear.

‘My dad is black Jamaican and my mum is half-Polish, quarter-Swiss and quarter-English. They met as teenagers back in the 1970s,’ Kristel tells Metro.co.uk. ‘My dad moved from Jamaica to NW London as a child in the 1960s, while my mum was born and bred in London to a mixed-European family.

My maternal grandfather was one of around 200,000 displaced Polish troops who settled here after WW2.’ Kristel doesn’t love the term ‘mixed-race’, but she uses it – while acknowledging its flaws – for lack of a better alternative. ‘It’s an imperfect term,’ says Kristel. ‘I know some people aren’t comfortable with it, or prefer to use alternatives (often on the basis that “race” is a social rather than scientific construct).

‘It’s crazy to think that in the not-so-distant past our very existence was seen as an abomination, yet today people of mixed heritage are the fastest-growing minority group in the UK.

‘That isn’t an excuse for complacency, and racism is still very real and ever-present, but it’s a nice big middle-finger to the eugenicists at least.’ Kristel hates this idea that mixed-race people or interracial relationships are some kind of utopian ‘cure’ for racism.

‘It annoys me if people lazily assume that mixed-race relationships or children are evidence of the absence of racism – whether their own or in wider society,’ she says.

 

 

‘Being in a mixed-race relationship, or raising a mixed heritage family, does not absolve anyone from the ability to hold problematic attitudes or remain completely ignorant of the realities faced by those living at the sharp end of a society riddled with structural racism.

‘That whole “I can’t be racist because I have mixed-race kids” thing is tired – we all need to check our privileges or blind spots and put the work in.’ Kristel says that none of her grandparents, on either side, were particularly thrilled by her parents’ union, but they came around eventually.

‘My parents had a really good run of it and were together for more than 30 years, but are now happily divorced,’ she explains. ‘A lot of their disagreements seemed to stem from fundamental differences in how they wanted to raise a family, and culture played a big part. My siblings and I were often in the middle of that tug-of-war. ‘On one side you had my dad with his West Indian style, tough love.

On the other, you had my mum with her more laissez-faire approach to discipline. ‘I think my dad also found it a bit frustrating that my mum couldn’t empathise with some of the things he came up against as a black man. At the same time, my mum was definitely subject to a lot of patriarchal nonsense from him.

‘Basically, they had very different world views. ‘Seeing that dynamic has definitely made me pretty pragmatic and maybe a bit unsentimental. Love across culture and colour lines can be wonderful, but there also needs to be mutual respect and understanding of where you’re both coming from – especially if you plan to bring children into the picture.

 

 

‘You can come at things from different perspectives but it’s so important to try to make sure you’re on a similar page.’

This is particularly pertinent for Kristel as she is due to give birth – at some point this month – and will be welcoming her first child with her partner, who is also mixed-race. ‘My partner is Italian and Moroccan,’ says Kristel. ‘We’ve been doing a lot of thinking about how to raise our child with a really assured sense of self in a world that still largely likes to see things in binaries, and a country that seems to be regressing in its attitudes to who gets to claim Britishness.’

Kristel says that people in her life are already curious about how her unborn offspring might identify, and what they’ll look like. ‘We just want to raise them to understand as much as they can about all aspects of their heritage, but not feel as though that has to define who they are, or what’s expected of them.

‘That’s easier said than done though – the fact is, most people struggle with questions of identity at one point or another. I’m curious to see how our child will navigate that, and I hope to create an environment where they feel they can talk to us about it openly.

‘I hope they’re able to embrace the richness and diversity of their heritage and family history, rather than feel overwhelmed by it.’ Kristel knows what it’s like to grow up feeling somewhat out of place. She says that feeling can stem from the way other people perceive you.

‘I think a lot of the difficulty comes from a disconnect between how you might identify and how others identify you, which totally varies according to the room you happen to be in,’ she says. ‘As a mixed-race person, there can be a lot of external judgement or assumptions made around the “type” of mixed-race person you are, and which side you identify more with, based on pretty superficial stuff – the company you keep, the people you date, the type of music you like, the way you talk etc.

‘I’m too old and have less f***s to give nowadays, but I definitely tussled with this growing up. ‘For example, as a teenager, I remember being really conscious of trying to have a balance of white and non-white friends – I didn’t want to look as though I was “picking sides” or be accused of being a “coconut”.

 

 

Kristel doesn’t often experience racism in open, overt ways, but she says she feels it in all the little things, all the time.

‘It’s microaggressions, comments that make me feel uncomfortable, feeling hypervisible or invisible in certain spaces,’ she says. ‘It’s stuff like – not getting into clubs when you’re in a non-white group, being followed around shops by security guards, walking into a village pub and being gawped at as though you just landed from Mars, or feeling undermined or underestimated in professional settings.

‘Sometimes it’s hard to put a finger on exactly why – is it because of my race, class, gender or a combination?’ She says it is the slipperiness of this kind of covert racism that makes it so hard to identify, and even harder to call out. ‘Racism in the UK is often insidious and hidden under a thin veneer of politeness,’ Kristel tells us.

‘It’s terribly inconvenient to point it out, which is why those who do are often silenced, shouted down or told to “stop playing the race card”. ‘It makes it difficult and daunting to speak up about it, even when you broach it “politely” – look at this furore with Naga Munchetty as one example.

On the other side, Kristel has no problem acknowledging her privilege as a mixed-race person with some white heritage. Something she things more mixed-race people should be willing to do. ‘I have no doubt that being mixed-race in a world that judges you according to your proximity to whiteness has also had a bearing on my experiences,’ she explains.

‘Colourism is real, and I know that being mixed-race will have afforded me access to spaces or privileges that come with being seen as embodying blackness in a more “palatable” form. ‘I’ve felt it most overtly when it comes to dating as a woman, where I’ve experienced being fetishized or exoticised for my mixed heritage while darker-skinned friends have been overlooked or outright disrespected.

‘I find it particularly wild that some of the most ardent deniers or unapologetic perpetrators of colourism I’ve come across have been dark-skinned, black men. ‘I don’t really understand why some people are reluctant to talk about colourism or acknowledge its existence.

‘It’s healthy to check our privileges or try to unpick the harmful things we’ve internalised, whatever that might be – whether that’s based on gender, race, class, being able-bodied, cis-hetero or any other factors.’

 

Kristel says she has had significantly more exposure to the Jamaican side of her heritage growing up, and she says it was a comfort to be in those spaces after spending large portions of her upbringing in majority white areas. ‘I’m really close to my Jamaican grandmother and spent a lot of time with her growing up, so she’s had a pretty big impact on me.

To me, Jamaican culture feels like a warm hug and a belly laugh. ‘Despite being as white as I am black, I’ve never seen my whiteness as something I can really “claim”. I think the way you look as a mixed-race person can have a pretty dramatic impact on the way you’re received by wider society. ‘I’m not white-passing, and the one-drop rule is alive and kicking, so I’ve always felt more comfortable in black or multicultural environments.’

The “one-drop” rule is the archaic historical principle of racial categorisation originating in the US in the 20th century that said that one drop of ‘black blood’ meant a person was black. But this isn’t the only reason why Kristel doesn’t have the same level of connection with her European heritage. ‘My Polish grandad passed away when I was young and I didn’t spend much time with my maternal grandma,’ she explains.

‘There are so many questions I wish I could’ve asked them, instead of having to fill in the blanks between the fragments I’m able to extract from my mum and aunts. ‘I’ve been to Poland and Switzerland, but aside from a love of cabbage-based food and appreciation of Swiss efficiency, I can’t say I’ve felt much of a personal connection as I might like to.’

 

Metro UK