I Don't See Who You See

I Don’t See Who You See Self identity is constructed through our interactions with others. But, what if what others tell you about yourself doesn’t reflect how you really feel? The author writes about his experience as a “mixed” person. BY COLLIN ZINN

am not who you see. My skin defines my privilege but does not define my ancestry. Your perceptions of me do not define my identity. I am mixed race.

I have always struggled with my racial identity. I was born to interracial parents. My mother is white and my father is South African Coloured. I was always told that I am different but I have never fit into a singular box. When I was very young I experienced racism for the first time. I remember asking my mother why my Great-grandmother didn’t like me. I asked her “is it because I am not white.” You see she never hated me because of my skin colour. I’ve always been tanned but perceived as white. So it wasn’t that. It was because of who my father is. She never hated me for my

skin, she hated me because my father wasn’t white.

As I grew older I continued to struggle to define my own racial identity. To the white folks in the small towns I grew up in I was not like them. I was something else. I was ambiguous but still the other. I was my father's son. I accepted this identity and moved on.

When I moved to Toronto suddenly the identity I was so sure was mine was questioned and challenged. I was no longer my father's son, I was my mother’s. A white man in Toronto, I was shocked by the label I was given. But yet again I accepted this new identity and moved on.

Now, my father is South African Coloured; a race within South Africa that is already considered mixed. We were Black, we were Indian, and we were the Indigenous people of South Africa known as the Khoisan. After hundreds of years of colonization and interracial mixing all those identities were lost and we became the Coloureds.

As I grew older my knowledge of my people grew as well. The pride I have for my people’s experiences, resilience, and culture grew. My pride as an African grew. Yet many continued to question me. Question my heritage, my ancestors, my culture and my race.

I grew to accept the perception of my identity in this world. I acknowledge that I am “white passing.” I know I walk through this world differently than other racialized folk. My race is hidden from those who do not know me. Something interesting came about in this struggle for my identity.

I realized something very important. I do not see who you see.

When friends and strangers alike look at me they see something else. They see my skin is tanned. They see my nose as thin. They see my hair as straight. They see my eyes as light. They see my body as white. They see someone I don’t see.

I see someone very different. I see my tanned skin as a mix between my mother’s and father’s. I see my South African grandfather's nose. I see my thick South African hair. I see my South African grandmother’s eyes. I see the thick bones of my South African ancestors. I see myself as South African.

But both are true. Both perceptions create my identity. Both define who I am in this world.

I am white but I am not. I am Coloured but I am not. I am South African. I am Canadian. I am mixed. MM

COLLIN ZINN is a fourth-year English and professional writing major and an executive member of MacMedia Magazine. Find him on Instagram at @zinncollin