"You gotta little mulatta in you?"

Me: Happy St. Patrick's Day...I'm Irish!! Yeah

Drunk White Dude at Bar: "Your Irish huh...You gotta little Mulatta in you?"

Me: "Umm, Yeah"

If you don't have a "little mulatta in you" one might be amazed the number of times a month I get asked this question.  Sometimes it's "what are you?" or "you got some black in you" or "what are you mixed with?" Generally I don't mind the question. It's an innocent question right, we are all asked to define ourselves so people can decide what they can say and what they can't, if you are dating material or friendship material, or if there is any common ground at all.  But I'm frequently asked the question for less innocent reasons.  People want to remind me of  my location in society, they want to sexualize me or they want me to act a certain way to make them feel more comfortable.  

Today I was asked about my ethnic make up but it was creepy.  I think the guy was hitting on me. He asked me if I was a person of African Descent and I told him "I am."  I said "Yes, my dad is black."  He asked where my dad's side of the family was from the Caribbean or the South?  I told him Cleveland.  He keep pressing the issue "but they're really from the south, right? 

No, I said, "my great-grandmother was from Cleveland, we've been in Cleveland for a while." He began to get on my nerves so I asked him where he was from, he told me his family was from the south. I asked him about his heritage, he told me he had some Native American and some Black ancestors.  He told me "you know what it's like in the south, everyone is part black or native american." I asked him about the rest of the family.  "Oh...were white." Really I said, "where is your white family from?" 

"Scotland, but I grew up in a small town of poor white people and black people and they all intermixed. 

Every time this dude in his early forties asked me another question, he moved in a little closer. I was so uncomfortable I ended up hiding my body under my purse.  Based on his body language and the way he phrased his questions, the message I received was simple, I'm white but as you know in the south white men like to get it on with black women and native american women. 

Me: Gross....Yeah I remember how that all went down....Lets not repeat that history again. 

As for the drunk dude in the bar the message was also clear. You aren't Irish your Black. Black people can't be Irish. That's funny I pretty sure my grandpa's family migrated here from Ireland but I guess when I my grandpa's daughter met my dad, fell in love, and had me, that erased her history completely. Huh...whatever. 

Despite the annoying and regular disbelief of my ethnic make up, I see it as a blessing.  I exist, I'm complete, and I'm not Mariah Carey (although I like her a lot these days). I come from some amazing survivors, leaders and intellectuals.  Some Black, some Irish, some bohemian, and all a part of me.