You, are you.
When I grew up in Samoa I spoke fluent Samoan. I grew up going to church, being taught the values, the traditions and the ins and outs, the fa’a samoa. But this didn’t mean that I was accepted as a Samoan.
There is a flaw in races, as there are in many things. But if two different races can’t possibly accept one another than what can be expected of the children of bi-racial births to go through?
I was picked on for my skin color not being dark enough, my hair not being the right kind of hair, for being the afakasi palagi without the dad and mom. I used to cry on the way home from school because I didn’t know what I was doing wrong and why I couldn’t be more Samoan and I used to pray and wish and hope that one day I could be more Samoan.
Now that I’ve had a chance to grow into this skin I’m in I’m proud to be bi-racial, to be half whatever else it is I am just as much as I am to be Samoan. My daughter is bi-racial, or tri if you want to get into semantics and I have all the intent to share with her some of her blood roots that I know of. But I will also teach her how to love herself and her skin, no matter what color, and her hair no matter what type.
