From my Irish husband, to me, to you, it’s Paddy, not
Patty! Patty is the nice lady who lives
down the street and brought over lemon bars and frozen lasagna when you moved
in. Paddy is the drunk guy with super
red cheeks who threw up on your shoes last St. Patrick’s Day.
Mini was only five weeks old when we gussied her up in green
and took her out on the town for her first St Patrick’s Day. My mom still has some choice words for us
about that. Paddy’s Day is by far the
easiest and most guiltless time of year when it comes to celebrating her
biracial identity. We just stuff her in
a “Daddy’s Lucky Charm” t-shirt and call it a day. No one is surprised when they find out she’s
half Irish, but there is a part of me that feels oddly protective of that part
of her heritage. You’d think it would be
the opposite. I admit to being weirdly, embarrassingly
defensive about the fact that she doesn’t meet the expectations of others in regards to her biracial appearance,
but my family and I will always be here to represent her blackness and provide a familial example of that part of her culture. My husband’s choice to move to the US to be with me meant sacrificing his own family and culture back in Ireland. I try not to take that for granted. St Patrick’s Day is a day when we are all Irish, which does mean more than drinking as much green beer as possible. There’s an amazing spirit and camaraderie that the Irish exemplify, which is why it’s so easy to embrace it. I’m very proud to be Irish by association, and look forward to celebrating that with Mini as she grows up. She already has her own mini hurling stick and sliotar. There will, without
a doubt, be Irish dancing lessons in her future, and more than one summer spent
running around Meath with her cousins.
One of the blessings in being a multiethnic family is being
able to educate each other on our cultures and send a more conscientious,
compassionate child into the world. Is
it my responsibility to celebrate her Irishness, rather than focusing on her
American blackness? Shouldn’t I be taking charge of educating her on
African-American history, signing her up for Jack & Jill and Radical
Brownies, preparing her for the realities of bigotry and racism, while also
encouraging her pride and identity in being black? It’s been mentioned to me on
more than one occasion that perhaps we focus too much on her being Irish and
not enough on her being black. Truth be
told, I suppose that’s because it’s easy.
As much as we’d like for it to be so, we don’t live in a post-racial
society just because Barack Obama is president, and 13 months is not the right
age to be lecturing a kid who can’t even say her own name. I do worry about her not being fully embraced
by either culture. What does it mean to
be black enough or Irish enough? I’m not sure there’s a proper answer to such
a question. I can only expect the
Husband – who has been delightfully claimed for “our side” by my family – to be
as proud and respectful of my side of her heritage as I am of his, and that we
both accept responsibility and accountability for making sure she knows exactly
where she’s come from. I do not doubt
his ability to do so, even when it comes to dealing with the crap situations that
present themselves to us both.
By
strange coincidence, both of us have had someone refer to her as our “white-ass
baby” in the last month alone – me, fielding insensitive comments from a drunk
woman in a restaurant who thought she was being clever by declaring that Devin
would be more interesting somehow, and the Husband, riding the subway with Mini
and verbally accosted by a drunk man who used some very colorful language in an
attempt to assert some kind of dominance over them. I think we both did the right thing in terms
of our reactions – rolling our eyes and walking away. If we try to tackle every bit of ludicrous
injustice we’re faced with, we won’t have time to embrace such cultural
stereotypes like drinking whiskey and eating fried chicken. What is important, however, will be making
sure that Mini feels nothing but pride in both sides of her heritage and will
know that we have nothing but pride in the perfect little curly-haired minion
we’ve created.
And that can start with St. Patrick’s Day – in her green
“I’m Black and I’m Proud” onesie!
So please enjoy the holiday with all the little leprechauns
in your life, and remember to be safe, use a designated driver if you’re
drinking, and wear green so you don’t get pinched!
Love, the Rafferty Girls
