Linda West
I was born to a white mother and a black father in the late sixties. My father left when I was six months old, my first memories of parents are of my mother and her parents. I grew up white, lived in white neighborhoods and attended white schools. Age the age of five my father came back into our lives and we moved away from my grandparents. I also have a sister by the same father and mother, we both look white and culturally identify as white. Growing up in the mid-west we thought that we were the only people in the world who were bi-racial. Living in the mid-west was difficult at times, when school mates learned that our father was black the insults flew. Our parents never spoke about our difference. Once when a schoolmates mother learned I was half black I was not allowed to associate with her. Unfortunately my mother never shared this with me, for years I thought I had been a terrible guest in her home. I grew up fearful of being discovered as part black. My mother once told me that my sister and I turned out just right, not too dark. My maternal grandmother recently told me that she never told her sister that our father is a black man. In college I was called a yellow nickel, a bitch, and asked why I didn't talk black. I now live in New York City and after ten years of living in such a diverse city I have finally been able to like myself. At the age of twenty-three I started to confront the issues I had about my appearance. Nine years later I can see the results of my efforts.