Written by Jacob Hood
There seems to be a universal rule when it comes to the Oreo cookie. The first step: rip the chocolate cookies away from the gooey icing and proceed to lick said icing with glee.
The second step: mash the now naked cookies together, dip in milk, and devour. Instead of savoring the treat as a whole, each piece is torn apart to be enjoyed separately. This is called the “Oreo Effect”, and this is the nature of being biracial. In 2000, the Census Bureau for the first time had the option to self-identify as multiracial, leading to the recognition that the number of people identifying as biracial or multiracial had skyrocketed by almost 50% within the decade.
Almost 7 million Americans nationwide today state that they come from multiple racial backgrounds. Despite this, life as a “mixed” person has never been more confusing, frustrating, or isolating.
I was first exposed to this “Oreo Effect” as a kid, I remember in school being somewhat of an oddity, an exotic class pet that was open for playful interaction. “He’s white and black?” they would wonder, “But he talks so white. But his skin is brown. He’s like an Oreo!” White on the inside, brown on the outside. I really should have given them credit for being that clever line.
My pieces would be dissected according to who I was with at the time, my white friends would cherish my “white-sounding” voice and exclaim how, “He doesn’t even really count as black.” When I with my black friends, I would be forced to abandon any ties I had to my white side in order to fit in, usually meaning I would speak in Ebonics and shove my white half in the deepest, darkest depths of the closet.
People took the parts they wanted and only paid attention to the other half of me when they saw fit (which was rarely ever). How could this happen if the population of biracial people is skyrocketing? Why could this happen if people like me are becoming normal? The answer goes back to one thing: people don’t seem to want to abandon the standard black/white view. It just makes thinks easier. Simpler. More compact. This is exactly what we are not.
My experiences are certainly not exclusive to my own life – the consequences of being mixed often reach across all race and ethnicity combinations and account for one of the reasons why multiracial teens experience an astronomical amount of identity crises. We feel the need to put ourselves in a box for the benefit of society, such as being simply black or white. Our mixed identity becomes smudged until we can appear as the world wants us to, not as a product of modern societal advances. So, in a sense, we assist in the continuation of the Oreo Effect.
We pull ourselves apart and show off what we think the world will accept. Fortunately, mixed awareness only continues to rise – but not at rates fast enough to slow issues of identity within adolescents. The 21st century is one that cannot be defined by singularity, simplicity, or by a single check mark next to a box identifying race.
Growing up biracial can be a lonely period of life. Having to define oneself solely in the identity-stripping terms provided can be excruciating. Multiracial visibility is not just a courtesy– it’s a necessity. Here’s the thing: people may not want to recognize that we exist, but that doesn’t change the fact that we do. I am not simply black. I am not simply white. I am mixed. I am biracial. And I am here to stay.
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