Multi-Colored Families

By TAMALA M. EDWARDS

From the day Karen Katz brought her infant daughter Lena home, there was a certain question she knew was coming. It finally came when Lena was four; she turned to her mother and asked, "Mommy, how come I'm not the same color as you?" Her heart stopped. Then Katz, who is white, explained to her cinnamon-skinned, Guatemalan-born daughter that they came from different countries. Over the years, Katz and her husband Gary Richards have consciously worked to minimize the distance between themselves and their daughter: taking a trip to Mexico to surround Lena, now eight, with people who look like her and choosing to live in a polyglot Manhattan neighborhood where she blends in easily. Nonetheless, Lena sometimes seems to reject her dark skin, crying over her inability to match her parents. But recently she's begun to explain proudly to strangers her adopted status. "Which isn't to say we're home free now," says Katz. "It's an ongoing conversation."

Dialogues about difference are going on in an increasing number of American households that have been made multiracial through either intermarriage or transracial adoption. The Census Bureau estimates that there are more than 1.3 million interracial marriages. Nearly a third of the children adopted from the public foster-care system are placed with families of a different race. And in the past decade, the number of children adopted from China, for example, has jumped from less than 200 to more than 4,000. You see it even in Hollywood, where Steven Spielberg, Tom Cruise and Michelle Pfeiffer are parents of adopted nonwhite children.

And like Katz, more and more parents are wrangling with tough questions: how to handle the external aspects--the stares, comments and other public behaviors that arise when families look different--and perhaps more important, how to handle the internal--the need to affirm the family bond while helping a child craft a strong racial sense of self.

DEALING WITH INSENSITIVITY

The spectrum of multiracial families is broad but embraces some common issues. For example, parents can't be as arbitrary in their choices of neighborhoods, schools, play groups or other social situations when they have a mixed household. "For a child, it's easier to blend," says Mary Durr, an executive with the Adoption Services Information Agency in Washington. She and other experts suggest searching out racially diverse communities--much as Susan Weiss, a Chicago social worker, had to do after acknowledging the negative racial remarks to which her adopted daughters, Indian-born Cathryn, 12, and Peruvian-born Amanda, 7, were subjected in the city. The family moved to a more mixed neighborhood in Oak Park, where, says Weiss, "there are so many parents and kids that don't 'match' that no one notices."

Despite such efforts to create a comforting environment, a trip to the supermarket or McDonald's can be fraught with insensitive public behavior. People stare, children taunt, strangers ask rude questions. To be constantly asked, "Are you just the baby-sitter?" or "Do they look like their father?" can be trying, say those who have endured such questioning. "Some days I want to scream out...'Leave us alone. My life is none of your business!'" rages Chicago drama teacher Jennifer Viets in The Coffee Man and the Milk Maid, a monologue about being the white mother of three biracial children.

In most cases screaming is the worst response, since it sends a message of anger and tension to the child. Calm, assured answers ("We're blessed to be an adoptive family," "My husband is Chinese") disarm loaded questions and offer examples of coping behavior. "I had to model appropriate behavior and give answers I hope my children would use," says Nancy G. Brown, co-founder of Multiracial Americans of Southern California and mother of Nicole and Rachelle, two biracial black-and-white girls. Her daughters, now teenagers, handle questions with aplomb and simple, swift replies.

Harder to handle than the public incidents are sticky situations among extended family and friends. Some cases are dire, like the grandparent who threatens to cease contact because of racial differences. But even the gray areas--family members who treat children differently or unwittingly make racist remarks--are tough. Limiting contact or forcing difficult conversations can be painful, but, says Faye Mandell, president of masc, "parents must say, 'Treat them equally--or not at all.'"

But there are also grace notes, as in how time and communication can resolve dicey situations. At first Kim Felder, a California family recruiter for adoptions with one biological child, encountered what she perceived as resistance from her parents to her intention to adopt transracially. She and her husband Carl decided to go ahead with the adoption and limit contact with Kim's parents. The following day, her parents explained that they were reacting to the prejudice they had faced as Italian immigrants--an experience they didn't want for their daughter. "They weren't prejudiced--they wanted to protect us," says Felder. "Now they're our biggest supporters." The Felders ultimately adopted four kids of varying African-American, Hispanic and white backgrounds.

Having a child of a different or blended race also has a habit of shaking up racial orientations. "I lost my white privilege; I began to experience reactions from people," says Jennifer Viets. That can be difficult if there are unresolved issues. Filippo Santoro, 34, an Italian American, is married to Trayce, 36, an African American. But he grew up hearing blacks referred to in derogatory terms. Even now, he admits, "Trayce still says I'm a racist." These feelings make both parents more conscientious in the raising of biracial Philip, 2, and Lena, six months. "You find yourself," he says of his evolving handling of the race issue. Indeed, the experience of being part of a multiracial family invariably heightens awareness of racism and often inspires parents to take action. Katz, for example, has written two children's books, Over the Moon, on adoption, and The Colors of Us, on skin hues.

DRAWING YOUR OWN BOUNDARIES

While some, such as Charles Byrd, editor of the webzine Interracial Voice, argue that race is a false construct, few deny that it nonetheless acts as a dividing line. Parenting a child who straddles that line means addressing not only the question of "Who am I?" but also "Where do I belong?"--an issue that parents must grapple with before they are swept away by the rapids of everyday family living. "The father and mother have to get together on what they're going to say so the child is not given two different spiels," says Clayton Majete, a lecturer at New York City's Baruch College who studies interracial families. He suggests waiting for the children to raise the issue and then taking the time to deal with it.

Until recently, conventional wisdom typically classified a mixed-race child as being of the same race as the minority parent. But that rule is being challenged as more interracial couples insist that their children be allowed to claim all sides of their heritage--an approach that experts think makes for a more settled, secure child.

It's an approach, however, that requires diligence on the part of the parents. Project race (Reclassify All Children Equally)--a campaign started by Ryan Graham, a biracial Florida teenager, and his mother Susan--has won changes in the act college-entrance-exam forms and some minor alterations in the U.S. Census form as well as on some local and state government forms. But most of society has not yet taken to the concept of biracial identity. Most government forms don't include a multiracial box, and it's usually up to the parent to make sure a child isn't compartmentalized. "I tell my kids that if somebody gives them a hard time about checking black and white, come get me, and I'll take care of it for them," says Edwin Darden, a Virginia father of two biracial kids who successfully pushed for a multiracial box on his school-district forms.

Parents may prefer that children embrace their full racial heritage, and it can be painful for, say, a white mother to see her biracial child choose to identify herself as black. But there are limits to parental influence, as well as immense pressure to choose sides. "One of the things we find is that in the teenage years, they stray from the teachings of their parents," says Darden, who has encountered this while running a local interracial-family support group. "It's too difficult to be different." Parents can offer their support and advice, but they should be ready to accept the child's decision on how to be classified.

ARE YOU READY?

In the past 10 years the number of people willing to consider transracial adoptions has surged. In 1972 the National Association of Black Social Workers made waves when it declared itself vehemently opposed to transracial placements. Representatives of the association argued that minority children need parents like them in order to form a strong sense of identity. While that view is shared by many officials in the foster-care system, there are now laws in place forbidding officials to use race as a routine consideration. And proponents of transracial placement have research behind them. "The bottom line is that these children grow up healthy and with ties to their culture," says sociologist Rita Simon.

Still, even those who assist in such placements advise that would-be parents need to answer key questions. "How committed is one to making a child feel a part of a racial community as well as the family?" asks Gail Steinberg, co-director of Pact, a group that handles transracial adoptions. "Instead of looking with goo-goo eyes at an adorable child, prospective parents must raise their decision to an adult level."

It's wise, say experts, to review the decision with a transracial-adoption specialist or to get hold of information like Pact's "Insider's Guide to Transracial Adoption," which tracks the stages of interracial adoption and explains how racial identity differs over time and between races. The 420-page manual poses some self-probing questions: Are you the retiring type, or do you naturally like to stand out? Do you need groups, or are you fine with independence? If your "hard wire" traits lean toward the demure, then family life in a constant spotlight may not be a good idea.

Even if your heart is in the right place, there are practical hurdles to overcome. "Love is not enough," says Simon. "A child needs a sense of cultural identity and racial history." Which church to join, what mall to shop in, which dentist to frequent are choices to be examined through a new perspective. And they are especially important to children from disadvantaged minority backgrounds. "You must surround them with people who look like them so they know they are as good as they can be and know what they can do," says Felder.

Another helpful step for parents of foreign-born children is to include the customs, language and history of their birth land as part of the family tradition. While Katz waited to be allowed to take Lena home, she toured the girl's native village and took pictures to show her later. Families might also plan a trip to the child's birth country--or take advantage of summer camps sprouting up for multiracial families, at which kids are given the chance to learn more about their culture and experience life as a majority. "It's a very emotional experience," says Gail Walton, director of one such camp, Hands Around the World, in Wheeling, Ill.

Just as important as helping a child with his uniqueness is affirming his current family ties. Unlike biological families, in which a child can see resemblances and grasp a genealogical connection, families formed by adoption have to take special steps to make a child feel secure. This can range from reaching out to religious leaders and extended family in order to help reaffirm the adopted child's inclusion, to keeping a watchful eye out for unhelpful, if well-intended, teasing ("My little Mexican one"). Lyn and Arthur Dobrin of Westbury, N.Y., adopted an African-American child, Kori, as a sibling to their biological son Eric. They devised a game they called Categories, in which Daddy and Eric were boys, Mommy and Kori were girls; Mommy and Daddy were adults, Eric and Kori were kids. The point was to show that there are many facets to each person--and that race is only one of them.

As they tend to be for all families, the years of adolescence and early adulthood are the most difficult. Extra effort and understanding are needed to defend against derogatory remarks about a child's looks or race. In later teen years, it's not easy for a white parent to explain to his dark-skinned daughter why other white parents don't want their sons to date her. Amy and Brad Russell of Mount Vernon, Iowa, refuse to let any of their seven multi-ethnic adopted kids use race as a crutch. They also know the struggle will be lifelong. "I'm going to have six young black men in the house," Amy says. "I worry for their emotional and physical safety."

Yet if there is a thread that runs through the many stories about mixed-race families, it is the amazing resilience of the kids. As difficult as the questions about their identity may be, they swiftly find ways to right themselves and move on. That resilience should prove less necessary as they move into what is inexorably becoming the mainstream.

--Reported by Ann Blackman/Washington, Wendy Cole/Mount Vernon, Michele Donley/Chicago, Timothy Roche/ Pensacola, Megan Rutherford/New York and Jacqueline Savaiano/Los Angeles

With reporting by Ann Blackman/Washington, Wendy Cole/Mount Vernon, Michele Donley/Chicago, Timothy Roche/ Pensacola, Megan Rutherford/New York and Jacqueline Savaiano/Los Angeles