I have a deep respect for White allies who do not try to co-opt our movements. They participate and engage in dialogue without pretending to understand what it feels like to be a person of color walking down the streets of the US, particularly in the inner-city. This is why I had deep respect for the piece "Race ya." penned at iambeggingmymothernottoreadthisblog.com.

Over the past few weeks, I have had to think about my own racialization, the color of my skin, the texture of my hair and how, even though I experience racism, I have privileges not afforded to my relatives and friends with darker complexions and tight curls in their hair. Yes, I am part of the Black diaspora, but my skin is not dark. And that DOES afford me some privileges that my loved ones do not get.

One very quick example of this is that: No one has ever told me that I am pretty for a Black girl. Yes. People have said this to my friends.

As I call upon White allies to watch themselves, I have to ask myself to do the same. Be aware of how even I privilege from racism. This is why I keep pushing intersectionality as the main paradigm with which we should look at issues of race. Even patriarchy strikes when you think of whose deaths get highlighted in mainstream media - usually those of boys, not girls.

But, back to Race ya.

After reading this, I couldn't help but wonder how diverse my own inner circle was. On a regular basis, I interact with just two people outside of my family. One is Black, and the other is mixed-race. At work, there was a White woman, 2 Black men and me. I tend to identify as mixed-race, although I would fall under the category of Latino.

I started to think hard.

Were most of my friends Latino? Were they Black?

So, I put myself to the same task as Katherine did.

The Mini-Experiment

I used my Facebook friends' list as a marker of my social interactions. Clearly, as she stated, this is not all-inclusive, but rather a marker of our engagements with the Facebook community.

So what activities really make up my social world? Capoeira, Entrepreneurship, Vegans and Poetry/the Arts. Oh, and OF COURSE, my location is essential, right. I am from Newark, NJ and I lived in New York City for 5 years. I've also traveled to a few countries.

I went through my whole friends' list, took out a notebook and did old school dashes, crossing out every 5 for easier counting.

My trigger finger still hurts. D'oh.

Hypothesis

Because I am Puerto Rican, I guessed that my list would be about 50% Latino people, including my relatives and friends throughout my upbringing. After Latinos, I hypothesized that Blacks would be the second largest group of people in my circle.

The Results

Latinos were the largest group of people in my inner circle, but not by the land-slide that I had imagined. Actually, I have way more White friends than I had realized.

Honestly, putting this list together made me HELLA uncomfortable.

Unpacking the Discomfort

Like Katherine, I had never really looked at my friends by their racialization. I mean, clearly, I know my Black friends are Black, and I speak Spanish with my most of my Latino friends. I know that my Asian friends and I have different cultural experiences.

I am a social scientist. I am CONSTANTLY talking about race, class, social issues, religion, the intersections of these things and how they position us within the world. But, never had I ever othered my friends like I did in the process of drafting up this chart.

Trying to label them and place them in categories of racialization that they might not place themselves in. Like my friend who is Tanzanian and Pakistani. Was she South Asian? Was she mixed-race? Was she other?

And the category of Other. I hesitated for 10 minutes on ONE person, before I felt comfortable even writing the word: OTHER in my penmanship.

What does it mean to be an other? To be categorized as such?

And my Latino friends - and their many shades of complexion. From Light enough that you could see their veins to Ivory to Taupe to the Darkest shade of Ebony. Blonde hair. Jet Black hair. Blue Eyes. Green Eyes. Brown eyes. Could I divy them all up into other categories or just place us all firmly within the Mixed category?

Then, I was sitting down with the categories of Black, Latino and White.

But, Who was White? I placed White Americans along with European descendants here (Portuguese, Spaniards, German, Irish, Russian, etc).

Black was identified as Black Americans, descendants from the Black Caribbean (Jamaica, Trinidad, Haiti, Bahamas, etc) and other people from the Black diaspora that weren't also Latino.

Latinos were identified as anyone from the Spanish-speaking Caribbean (Puerto Ricans, Cubans, Dominicans), Mexicans, Central Americans and Latina America, including Brasilians.

Asians were categorized as people from Korea, China, Japan, the Philippines and Indonesia.

Mixed were people who had identified as mixed or had parents from multiple categories.

South Asians included Indians and Pakistani folk.

Other were people who did not fit any of the above categories or whose ethnic identity I could not remember or identify.

The sharpest feeling I had was that the categories sucked. It was exhausting to identify people, and quite honestly. I scanned my list and gave up counting after I passed the 600 count. I couldn't keep doing it.

Yes, I am highly aware of race, racialization, racism, but categorizing people in my life - who I had met, personally, into these categories became difficult. Taxing. Confusing.

I didn't want to do it, anymore, and at the end of creating my pie chart - what was I supposed to feel? Pride at the diversity of my friends' list?

The thing that really made me uncomfortable was the positioning of the question I was asking myself over and over, again - WHAT IS so and so?

Not who, but what.

And that was the problematic.. That whatness - the objectification and, perhaps, the realization that this wasn't a task for me to partake in.

Theoretical Understandings of Self

So, my best friend called me while I was writing this, and he asked me why I took on the task. I've really been contending with my own privilege, lately. The racialization of self and why I staunchly reject Latino in my own self understanding while employing it with outsiders. Why I check Black under race after checking Latino.

He asked me why I felt uncomfortable, and I wrestled with my words.

Was I categorizing people the way that they categorize themselves? Is my Black-skinned friend from France French or Black? Could he be European? What about my other friends who were Portuguese? Many would never see themselves as White, but they are of European descent.

The discomfort was necessary for me to confront - to deal with.

And, I've struggled with something for many years - a source of shame, perhaps. My grandmother - my mother's mother - she was White-skinned with Blonde hair and grey eyes. My mother's father was Brown-skinned with dark eyes and hair. She was clearly of Spanish descent. He was of Afro-Taino descent. We be called Puerto Ricans here. My father was of Taino descent. Research suggests that I have Moorish blood, too.

When I was a little girl, as I struggled to find my place racially. I felt feelings of shame for my grandmother's features, and I used to say she was Taina. She was not. Her family owned tons of lands, clearly a remnant of being in power. As I grow, I am unpacking this.

Where do I find places for the European heritage in me? Can I?

That has been the question that I struggle most with these days.

The Reality We Contend With

The sharpest part of the conversation with my best-friend was the realization that regardless of how we define ourselves or identify within the schema of our daily lives, the violence that we face - the face of racism is that:

Whether the person is French, Puerto Rican, Haitian, Dominican, Black-American or Mixed, their belonging within categories of race by outsides are judged by the color of their skin.