Why "Mixed" Is a Useless Racial Identity

"You're not Black, you're mixed!"

Christmas, 1994

Every mixed Black person has heard some variation of “you’re not Black, you’re mixed”

This rhetoric implies that “mixed” is a completely serviceable standalone term. In my opinion, “mixed” is actually useless as a sole racial identity. Let me explain why.

Back in 2019, I saw a casting call for a Netflix series from a screenwriter that I follow on Twitter. The role was calling for “mixed Asian actors”. Excited, I immediately called my manager and agent and told them that I had to audition for this part—opportunities like these don’t come by often. It’s not very often that a character is written explicitly as a “mixed Asian”. My agent called the casting office. Unfortunately, she told me, the casting office was actually looking for actors that are mixed with white, specifically.

In an American context, I’ve found that “mixed” often refers to people that are mixed with white. Black and white, Asian and white, etc. Mixed with white tends to be the ‘default’. In addition, a lot of discourse surrounding mixed identity and privilege tends to center around the assumption that all mixed people are mixed with white. But not every mixed person has light skin or European features, because not every mixed person is mixed with white.

For every single audition that I’ve had where the character was written as mixed race, one of the parents was Black, and other was always white. In my entire six year acting career, I’ve probably had around four hundred auditions. I have only auditioned for one character that was Black and Asian and that was five years ago.

My Parents in Los Angeles, 1992

This is also evident in the representation of interracial couples in television and film—an overwhelming amount of interracial couples on screen involve a partner that is white. Shows like Mixed-ish, The Flash, All-American, Modern Family, The Handmaid’s Tale, Scandal, Jane the Virgin, How to Get Away With Murder, and more recently Bridgerton on Netflix, the Gossip Girl reboot on HBO Max, and the live-action Little Mermaid film are all examples of this (and the list absolutely doesn’t end there). In February 2016, Screenrant posted an article titled ‘14 Interracial Couples on TV that Broke Stereotypes in 2015’. Fourteen out of fourteen of the couples listed in that article involve a white partner.

Just last year, Teen Vogue published an article titled '37 Asian Actors You Should Know’. Out of those thirty-seven actors, fifteen are mixed with white…and a whopping ZERO are mixed with Black.

I, myself, am Black and Asian. Specifically, I’m African-American and indigenous Filipino. One of my best friends is Chinese and Mexican. I have a cousin that is Indian and Filipino. One of my friends in high school was African-American and Mexican, one of my best friends in middle school was African-American and German, and one of my best friends in high school was African-American and white (BOTH of her parents are half Black and half white). None of us look alike, and none of us have the same experiences as mixed people. To even take it a step further, having one immigrant parent of color is very different from having two parents that were both born and raised in the United States.

When someone tells me, “you’re not Black, you’re mixed”, a visceral irritation washes over my body because it feels like my Blackness is being taken away from me. But you cannot separate me from my Blackness.

I didn’t know I was Black until I was seven years old. I think it’s pretty fair to say that I didn’t “see race” up until this point. Sure, I knew that my parents looked different from each other but I didn’t understand race as a construct yet, nor did I understand its implications because, well, I was seven. In my second grade class, a white classmate of mine referred to me as “that African-American girl”. At the time, I was living on a military base in the middle of nowhere in a very white town called Great Falls, Montana. In Great Falls, Asians make up 0.9% of the population, and Black people make up 0.85% of the population. I was the only Black girl in my class, but I didn’t even realize that until a white classmate pointed it out.

When I lived in the Philippines, I experienced colorism for the first time but I also experienced blatant anti-Blackness. Strangers and some classmates made fun of the texture of my hair and the darkness of my skin tone (it’s important to note here that while I am considered light skinned in Black communities, I am considered dark in Asia). I was called both the n-word and “Negra”. While “negra” technically refers to a black person (more specifically an indigenous Black Filipino), it is almost always used in a derogatory context. While I didn’t experience colorism and anti-Blackness from everyone (I never ever experienced this from my own family for example), a lot of people in that community made it very clear that I was Black, even if they were aware that my mom was Filipino.

In my junior year of high school, I asked a white acquaintance of mine if she wanted to accompany me to the Filipino Club meeting that was happening that day. She told me, “But we’re not Filipino” I explained to her that, yes, actually I am Filipino. She said to me, verbatim, “Oh, I didn’t realize that you were something other than Black because you’re so dark chocolate” (??? lol )

Josh and His Parents

Josh Liu, founder of Útiles Beauty (and also Ariana Grande’s hairstylist), is one of my best friends. His father is Chinese and his mother is Mexican. Both Josh and I are mixed. We have a shared experience of not feeling ‘this’ enough or ‘that’ enough, or feeling like we don’t belong in either community. However even though he is mixed like I am, Josh has no idea what it’s like to be Black because… he is not Black.

So when people say to me, “you’re not Black, you’re mixed”…to that I say, “No…I’m Black and mixed” You literally cannot separate me from my Blackness. A lot of the experiences that I’ve had and the way that I navigate through the world is rooted in my Blackness. Now, in no way am I comparing my experience to that of unambiguous and/or dark-skinned Black people. I am fully aware that my experiences as a light-skinned Black girl with a loose curl pattern are entirely different from that of a dark-skinned Black girl with 4c hair because of this country’s extensive history of colorism and featurism. With that being said, the “Black experience” isn’t necessarily entirely universal anyway because not all Black people look the same, grew up in the same socioeconomic circumstances, or even live in the same country.

My dad with his parents and older sister, who was born with red hair and green eyes. 1962.

There’s nuance in Black experiences and nuance in Black culture. Black people, much like Asians, are not a monolith. We all have differing opinions, religions, lifestyles. And just like Asians, we also look different from one another. I know Black people with two Black parents that are way lighter in skin tone than me. My aunt (my dad’s sister) was born with red hair and green eyes. Yet both her parents (my grandparents) are Black. And yes, some Black people are mixed. But they’re still Black.

I have no problem recognizing that I am mixed, since it’s literally just the truth—I am of a multi-racial background. But I’m not mixed instead of Black. Or mixed instead of Asian. I’m Black, Asian, and mixed.

In 2018, the YouTube channel Asian Boss uploaded a video called ‘Being Half Filipino in the Philippines’. The video features two girls that are around the same age, and they talk about their experiences living in the Philippines as a mixed Filipino. One girl is half Filipino and half White American, and the other girl is half Filipino and half Nigerian. Within the first two minutes of the video, you can immediately spot just how their experiences differ. The very first question that the interviewer asked both girls was, “Growing up, do you remember being treated differently because you’re half Filipino?” The White-American Filipina said that yes, sometimes she’ll go to a sari-sari store (convenience store) and the workers will talk to her in English because they assume she isn’t Filipino. The Nigerian Filipina on the other hand answered yes, random kids on the street will call her “Negra” or say “hey n***er”.

Two girls, both mixed, have entirely different experiences because one is Black and one is not.

Tokyo, Japan. 2004

Not all mixed people have the same experience. So, yeah. I reject “mixed” as a sole identity. You can’t be mixed race without recognizing what races you are mixed with; being mixed doesn’t just happen in a vacuum. Black and mixed are not mutually exclusive. “Mixed” is not a race.

So, I have my reservations about the mixed identity. But at the end of the day…

“You’re not Black, you’re mixed”

Nah, I’m Black and mixed.