Sarah E. Gaither | Vox

Many interracial couples know exactly what Meghan Markle went through

2021-03-12T01:11:01-05:00

I like to think that I have something of a cosmic connection to Meghan Markle, the former actor who married Prince Harry, of the British royal family. I too am a biracial Black-white woman who married a white man. My first child is also named Archie (well, mine is a pit bull mix, but still a coincidence), and I also sit here pregnant (expecting twins!), with a summer due date. And, like Markle, the question of “what my kids might look like” has been asked of me time and time again.

It can sometimes feel as if it’s up to biracial people, or people in interracial relationships, to make white people feel comfortable about skin color. I know this not only personally, but as a psychologist and researcher who studies multiracial people.

Markle revealed in her bombshell interview with Oprah Sunday night that after announcing her pregnancy to the royal family, there were “concerns and conversations about how dark [Archie’s] skin was going to be when he was born.” Despite Oprah’s shocked reaction, it’s hard for me to believe that she’s really surprised.

Considering the racialized history of the British royal family — including the queen’s distant relative, Elizabeth I, who played a key role in the British slave trade — it feels totally expected that the royal family was “concerned” that their unborn grandchild might appear Black. Markle was the first modern-day Black-identified person to be considered a member of that family, which was by itself a revolutionary moment in the history of the royals. But she herself is very light-skinned, which I believe made her entry into the royal family much easier than it would have been if she were darker.

Markle’s level of Blackness may have been somewhat tolerated by the royals, but the actual royal bloodline being “tainted” by her Blackness would need some reassurance. Thus, the ambiguity of what her son Archie might look like, if his appearance would “color” the royal family further, was a source of contention.

Anyone in the Black community is well aware of issues of colorism — prejudice or discrimination favoring people with lighter skin over those with darker skin — that have long plagued the division among, and treatment of, racial minorities in both the US and Britain. As I previously wrote, the “one drop” rule that categorized people with any African ancestry as “colored” was legally codified in a couple of US states in the early 1900s. Although legally the one-drop rule is not in use today, nor is it a term that historically has been used in Britain, we still see it used informally worldwide when white people visually categorize racially ambiguous people, particularly when they believe they are under some type of social threat.

Through a recent meta-analysis of 55 published scientific articles including participants in Europe, I’ve discovered that white people looking at biracial Black-white individuals in particular are more likely to apply this visual one-drop rule compared to other racial groups, as a method of maintaining one’s status quo or position in the social hierarchy. Given this research, it’s hard not to interpret what Markle went through as a modern-day form of the one drop rule policy being applied to a child who was not even born yet.

These types of identity questioning or denial experiences — the ones that Markle herself faced daily during her time in the UK through her marriage and continued to face during her first pregnancy — are known to lead to health consequences such as increased cortisol and worse overall well-being. Markle revealed her own mental health struggles in the interview, including thoughts of suicide.

But not only were her and her child’s identities constantly questioned, so was her marriage. The British media relied on racist stereotypes when covering Markle and, according to Markle, her in-laws’ concerns about Archie’s skin color were only discussed with Prince Harry in private. It’s not hard to draw a line between these challenges and increased stress and judgment in their marriage.

The types of biases they faced are far from novel: Recent research shows people have high levels of implicit and explicit bias against Black-white couples, in particular. For example, the white person in the relationship is more often the one approached at restaurants or given the bill at the end of the meal over the Black person, or if out as a family, depending again on skin tone, a biracial child might not be assumed to be one’s own child. Markle hinted at this racial binary related to being both Black and as someone in an interracial marriage when discussing her own experiences compared to Kate Middleton’s, especially in regards to the British press, whose relationship with Markle was contentious and racially charged. A “polarity” is the word Markle used to describe the distinct narratives created; a hero versus a villain — being white versus being Black while being royal.

This polarity is something that biracial people themselves are hyper-aware of, growing up. When I think about my twin babies coming into this world, I can’t help but think about what they will look like, no doubt in part because of society’s desire to socially categorize everyone and everything around them. Will they look white or Black or something in between? Why should that even matter? Seeing Markle be forced by her in-laws to grapple with this question was recognizable and painful to witness.

One question I get from parents of biracial children in my research lab all the time is how should I tell my kid how to identify? I wish none of this mattered, just like Harry and Meghan, I’m sure, wished as well. But we all know far too well the power and privilege that skin tone carries with it — whether it is your child, yourself, or your romantic partner. (This isn’t even getting into the expectations and norms surrounding gender: Even Oprah started off the entire interview segment asking Markle if their next child was going to be a boy or a girl.) These social constructions are clearly sturdy.

As a biracial soon-to-be mom and a psychologist, I will make sure to the best of my abilities that my children have the freedom to choose their identity. This is why, when people ask me what my kids will look like or what gender they are, I simply say, who knows?

Sarah E. Gaither is an assistant professor in psychology and neuroscience at Duke University, and at the Samuel DuBois Cook Center on Social Equity. Find her on Twitter at @sarahegaither.

I study biracial identity in America. Here’s why the royal baby is a big deal.

2022-09-08T15:47:19-04:00

The day has finally come and the hashtags have already switched over from #RoyalBabyWatch to #RoyalBaby. Meghan Markle and Prince Harry have officially welcomed not only the first British American baby born into the royal family, but the first biracial baby in modern history for the royal family too.

Similar to when former President Barack Obama was elected as the first black and first biracial president, these are all symbols of change. The multiracial demographic reflects one of the fastest-growing groups in the US and in the UK. The fact that there is now a biracial child in the British royal family perfectly highlights the diversity influencing our entire world.

Growing up in the late ’80s as a biracial girl, I never had a mixed-race prince or princess whose image I could sport on my backpack or my lunchbox. There was little to no representation of my identity — almost no characters in movies or television shows, no musicians or celebrities who identified as mixed-race.

For today’s biracial youth, Meghan Markle, the actress who married into the British royal family — and who has defined herself publicly as “a strong, confident mixed-race woman” — represents the biracial role model I didn’t have growing up. Her new baby will continue the tradition.

My mother is white and my father is black, and as a social psychologist, I research mixed-race identity and perceptions of biracial people for a living. The history of biracial couplings and children in our country is fraught: The “one drop” rule that categorized people with any African ancestry as “colored” was legally codified in a couple of states in the early 1900s. Interracial marriage was illegal in some states starting in 1664 until 1967 with the famous Loving v. Virginia case, and it wasn’t until the year 2000 when the option to “check all that may apply” for race appeared on the census.

(Although legally the “one drop” rule is not in use today, it is often informally used when white people visually categorize racially ambiguous people, particularly when they believe they are under some type of social threat.)

Slow social acceptance of multiracial identities remains the norm, even though it is at odds with changing US demographics now more than ever. The biracial population is one of the fastest-growing groups in our country. Other communities of color have long argued that representation of one’s race within the media, our government, and our schools is critical to children’s successful life outcomes and aspirational goals. Yet who can biracial kids look up to if the popular press and culture avoid this racial identity?

Americans find it cognitively demanding to interact with mixed-race people

This constant either/or thinking about race tends to put people into fixed boxes. Perhaps that’s why the word “biracial” is so difficult for people to use — it disrupts that way of thinking. Right before Barack Obama’s reelection, I led a study on perceptions toward Obama’s race. Before the election, we found that white people thought he was “too black” and black people found him to be “too white.”

Those perceptions shifted significantly after his reelection. Only then did white individuals see Obama as being “white enough” for them and black individuals see him as being “black enough.” This switch suggests people did seem to understand that he was biracial but found it easier to claim him as a racial in-group member once he became a success story.

As my other recent research shows, interacting with someone who is racially ambiguous in appearance is also more cognitively demanding than interacting with someone whose racial background is “clearly” known. We videotaped white participants interacting with a racially ambiguous research assistant. One group of subjects was told that the assistant was biracial while the other group was not. The research assistant rated participants’ nonverbal behavior, such as smiling or their level of physical engagement in the interaction, as more comfortable and less anxious when the research assistant’s race was identified.

Other research has highlighted that the word “biracial” is harder for people to think about than monoracial categories. Physical appearance tends to play a very big role in the way people assign race, particularly here in the US.

During a 60 Minutes interview, Obama, when asked about his own racial identity, said, “I’m not sure I decided it. I think, you know, if you look African American in this society, you’re treated as an African American.” And in a recent episode of the Netflix TV show Dear White People, biracial people are divided into two groups: “You’re not Rashida Jones biracial,” one character says to another, “you’re Tracee Ellis Ross biracial — people think of you as black.”

I am the “Rashida Jones” version of biracial. I have white skin and dark brown, wavy hair — people always assume I’m white. Mariah Carey, who has a white mother and a black, Venezuelan father, was the only white-looking biracial person I knew of growing up. She was the biracial role model I needed, and I often thought of her when I struggled with the constant denial and questioning I faced whenever I told someone I was part black.

Throughout my childhood, I constantly received the message that I didn’t “match” my black father when I was out with him in public. Sometimes people saw my father and me in the mall together and assumed my dad was kidnapping me. Other times, they thought he was the hired help picking me up from school. I carry around a family photo in my wallet still to this day to help me through these conversations — it is my proof, my “black card.”

My identity struggles continued. After taking the PSAT in high school, I remember feeling confused after receiving an award in the mail honoring me for being a black person — not a biracial person — who scored highly on the exam. During graduate school, there were people who told me I only won a competitive National Science Foundation award because I played my “race card.” People assumed affirmative action policies were the only way I could have received such an award.

Recently, my collaborators and I documented this negative perception — less trust and more dislike — that people have of biracial individuals who are seen as contextually claiming one of their racial identities over the other. This only adds to the self-doubt that so many biracial people face.

Racial identity is not and should not be a zero-sum game

Don’t get me wrong. I have led a privileged life in many ways because I look and pass as white. I have never been pulled over for “driving while black” or followed while shopping in stores because of the color of my skin. Biracial people who look physically more like a racial minority group member are going to face systemic problems in our society that I am lucky not to face.

But all types of biracial people who claim their multiple racial identities may still struggle with questions about their identity and fitting in. Everyone, no matter their racial background, has a built-in need or desire to belong. And being forced to constantly defend your own identity, to defend who it is that you are, can be exhausting and mentally draining.

In fact, the biracial demographic is now facing higher rates of mental health outcomes and increased substance abuse. Many argue it’s because of this lack of belonging to their respective racial groups. The frequency with which many biracial people hear the question “What are you?” highlights the confusion that biracial people are often faced with when they meet someone new for the first time.

I can’t speak for all biracial people. And I’m not saying that Meghan Markle and Barack Obama and other celebrities should be removed from the black community and added to the biracial community; racial identity is not and should not be a zero-sum game. It is clear that everyone needs positive representation, especially racial and ethnic minorities and women. But the either/or system that so much of our society uses simply doesn’t work when a biracially identified person is involved.

I personally cannot wait for how the new #mixedracebaby in the British royal family may continue to shift those discussions. We need to be open to accepting people for all of their identities rather than simply categorizing them into one fixed box.

Sarah E. Gaither is an assistant professor in the Duke University department of psychology and neuroscience and the Samuel DuBois Cook Center on Social Equity. Find her on Twitter at @sarahegaither.

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