Mixed Race Studies

What’s History Got to Do with It? Evolving Classifications of Race

Brooklyn Historical Society
Crossing Borders, Bridging Generations
Othmer Library
Saturday, 2014-01-25, 15:00-18:00 EST (Local Time)

Part Three of the reading series Quantifying Bloodlines

• How did historical distinctions emerge, such as: mulatto, quadroon, octoroon, creole, 1/16th Native American…?
• What is the one-drop rule?
• Why do we talk about our backgrounds, bloodlines, ethnic and racial make-ups in terms of percentages and fractions?
• Does race-mixing mean racial harmony?
• Do people still “pass” to blend in in order to be accepted?

Join in an engaging discussion about the formation of racial classifications, privilege and pedigree. As a focus, we will read and review a historical novel, based on the real-life family history of Creole society in Central Louisiana. Cane River by Lalita Tademy describes this family and society as experienced through more than four generations of women’s lives.

Please plan to have read the book prior to our meeting.

Session is limited to 15 participants. Active participation is key. 

This reading and discussion group is co-sponsored by MixedRaceStudies.org

For more information, click here.

Forced to pass and other sins against authenticity

Women & Performance: a journal of feminist theory
Volume 15, Issue 1, 2005
pages 17-32
DOI: 10.1080/07407700508571486

Kerry Ann Rockquemore

According to the identity commandments, passing is a sin against authenticity. Thou shall not pretend to be something that you are not. Men should not pretend to be women, married people should not pretend to be single, and black people should not pretend to be white. We all fit into some neat conglomeration of social categories and it’s just too confusing if we can’t take people at face value. Racial passing has a particular hold on our collective imagination because we assume that individuals belong to one, and only one, biologically defined racial group. This assumption disallows the possibility of being “mixed-race” and has historically necessitated elaborate rules and regulations order to classify what folks really are. The one-drop rule, a uniquely American norm that reflects our particular history of racial formation, dictates that people with any black ancestry whatsoever are black. Given the explicit racial hierarchy in the U.S., racial passing has always referred to a person who was really black pretending to be white.

As a woman who is black by self-definition, white by phenotype, and biracial by parentage, I am often perplexed by our limited conception of passing in post-Civil Rights America. Because we persist in assuming that race is a biological reality and not a social construction, passing continues to be conceptualized as voluntary; uni-…

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Deconstructing the Mixed-Race Experience of Passing

California State University, San Marcos
May 2006
172 pages

Victoria Baldo Segall

A Thesis Submitted for Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Master of Arts in Literature and Writing Studies

In “Beauty and the Beast: On Racial Ambiguity” Carla Bradshaw describes passing as an attempt to achieve acceptability by claiming membership in some desired group while denying other racial elements in oneself thought to be undesirable (79). In literature on passing, the mixed-race individual may, as Bradshaw suggests, become a “chameleon” if s/he desires; s/he may choose to pass as one race over another and blend with one race for reasons such as self-preservation. Bradshaw’s description of passing as gaining “false access” to a particular group or identity aides in setting thetone for passing as a harmful experience for the mixed-race individual. Specifically, this thesis will show that, as we’ll see with Nella Larsen’s “Passing,” Danzy Senna’s Caucasia, and Hanif Kureishi’s The Buddha of Suburbia, not only does passing present the instability of race, but it emotionally and physically destroys the mixed-race individual; the characters have the power and ability to perform and live within different racial worlds, but through their passing they ultimately disempower the non-dominant race of which they are a part and empower the dominant race.

To support this argument, Chapters One through Three will explore how, imbedded within all three texts, there are four themes in particular that play influential roles in the discussion of mixed-race identity and its relation to passing:

• fixed identity vs. unfixed identity
• performance of identity
• displacement
• racial consciousness

Table of Contents

• I. Introduction
• II. Chapter One: The Fall of Nella Larsen’s “Passing”
• III. Chapter Two: The Supposed Super Hybrid Birdie of Danzy Senna’s Caucasia
• IV. Chapter Three: The Problem with Hybrid Vigor in Hanif Kureishi’s The Buddha of Suburbia
• V. Conclusion

Read the entire thesis here.

Clearly Invisible Racial Passing and the Color of Cultural Identity by Marcia Alesan Dawkins, and: The Souls of Mixed Folk: Race, Politics and Aesthetics in the New Millennium by Michele Elam (review)

Philip Roth Studies
Volume 9, Number 2, Fall 2013
pages 99-103
DOI: 10.1353/prs.2013.0024

Donavan L. Ramon
Rutgers University

Marcia Alesan Dawkins, Clearly Invisible: Racial Passing and the Color of Cultural Identity, Waco: Baylor University Press, 2012, vxi + 229 pp.

Michele Elam, The Souls of Mixed Folk: Race, Politics, and Aesthetics in the New Millennium, Palo Alto: Stanford University Press, 2011, xxiii + 277 pp.

According to W.E.B. DuBois’s prophetic theory articulated in The Souls of Black Folk (1903), “the problem of the twentieth century is the problem of the color line” (221). Myriad critical and popular pieces over the past several years suggest that this theory has run its course: the celebration of mixed race people putatively implies the “end” of race. Certainly the election of the first biracial president has been touted as the epitome of post-race life in America. Yet as recent critical interventions by Michele Elam and Marcia Alesan Dawkins remind us, race remains prevalent because of biracial people, not in spite of it.

The continuities between DuBois’s theory and Elam’s are underscored by the title of the latter’s monograph. In The Souls of Mixed Folk, the Stanford University English Professor asserts that the notion of post-Black art being apolitical is a complete fiction, much like the idea that post-Civil Rights politics are in decline. By examining the images of mixed race subjects in a wide range of artistic forms, Elam argues that these venues are the newer locations that “engage issues of civil rights and social change” (16). To accept this belief, she begins her book by convincing readers that the increased interest in mixed race deludes many people into believing that race no longer exists. If this is truly the case, then why do fictional representations of biracial people continue to represent anxiety across a multitude of genres? More specifically, why has the last several years seen a resurgence in narratives of racial passing—such as Philip Roth’s The Human Stain?

Elam explores these questions across five thoroughly researched and well-written chapters. The first traces the history of mixed race studies in curricula across the nation while raising related yet ignored issues. For instance she problematizes the focus of heteronormative depictions of mixed race families at the expense of homosexual ones, while also reminding us that mixed Americans have historically been the result of sexual violation. She believes we must be mindful of considering the product of these unions as representatives of racial progress without understanding the nuances of slavery and violence inflicted on black bodies by whites.

Chapter two changes the focus from history to contemporary comic strips by Aaron McGruder and Nate Creekmore. In their works, Elam rightly sees racial identity as “a matter of public negotiation, social location, cultural affirmation, political commitment, and historical homage” (58). In chapter four, Elam situates the traditional European bildungsroman against the “mixed race bildungsroman”. The former focuses on the “social incorporation of the individual” (125) whereas protagonists in the latter are not “incorporated into the society or the social progress that they are supposed to represent . . . [and they] challenge the popular image of the ‘modern minority’” (126). She applies her theory of the “mixed race bildungsroman” to Emily Raboteau’s The Professor’s Daughter (1997) and Danzy Senna’s Symptomatic (2004). Elam’s last chapter examines performances of mixed race in Carl Hancock Rux’s play Talk and “The Racial Draft” skit from Dave Chappelle’s defunct late-night comedy show. Her argument here is that in both performances, there is a “re-visioning and a re-membering of the national order” (161).

The middle chapter is the one that is most germane to this journal, as it examines racial passing in Danzy Senna’s Causcasia (1999), Philip Roth’s The Human Stain (2000), and Colson Whitehead’s The Intuitionist (2000). Despite research to the contrary, Elam begins this chapter by arguing that racial passing literature is far from being an obsolete genre, as these novels attest. Despite living in a post-race era, these narratives collectively argue for the rebirth of racial passing as a “social inquiry” (98). Explaining further, the novels addressed here force readers to reconsider “the performative, iterative nature of racial identity as a rich social heuristic” (98).

This is nowhere more evident than in The Human Stain , where racial passing acts as a “reactionary vehicle to critique political correctness”—particularly because it is set during President Clinton’s sex scandal (98). In this regard, “performance,” can have multiple meanings in the novel: one referring…

In‐and‐out‐of‐race: The story of Noble Johnson

Women & Performance: a journal of feminist theory
Volume 15, Issue 1, 2005
pages 33-52
DOI: 10.1080/07407700508571487

Jane Gaines, Professor of Film Studies
Columbia University School of the Arts

Noble Johnson’s story is a very American story, a story more typical than we have historically wanted to admit. It is the story of race loyalty and race betrayal, of family belonging and disconnection. It is a mysterious story of disappearance, a chronicle of the way a public person became a “missing person.” His is also the story of someone who was more than one—a sort of man with a thousand faces and a range of identities. We claim him as an important African American while acknowledging that he chose to think of himself and to live in terms of other equally raced categories during different portions of his long life.

The case for owning his African American heritage was continually made to Johnson by his brother George in correspondence during the later years of his life. George’s history is one of deep affiliation with the African American community. A booster for black enterprise from his years as a real estate agent in the all-black town of Muskogee, Oklahoma, in his later years George started a black entertainment clippings service in Los Angeles, where he moved from Omaha, Nebraska, in 1926. But the glory for George was in the formation, in 1916, of the Lincoln Motion Picture Company, a business made possible by Noble Johnson’s Los Angeles connections but also George’s industrious work building a distribution…

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“Makin a way Outta no way:” The dangerous business of racial masquerade in Nella Larsen’s Passing

Women & Performance: a journal of feminist theory
Volume 15, Issue 1 (2005)
pages 79-104
DOI: 10.1080/07407700508571489

Carlyle Van Thompson, Acting Dean, School of Liberal Arts and Education
Medgar Evers College, the City University of New York

Early in Nella Larsen’s Passing (1929), Clare Kendry Bellew and Irene Westover Redfield (the light-skinned and middle-class black female protagonists) are both passing for white in Chicago at an elite and segregated restaurant atop the Drayton Hotel during the horrid heat of August. Here, in this coincidental meeting of two childhood friends, Irene and Clare have a conversation about the possibility of permanently assuming a white identity. Irene, who only passes sometime, superciliously relates her reason for not permanently passing herself off as white: “‘You see Clare, I’ve everything I want. Except, perhaps a little more money'” (1929, 190). in contrast, Clare responds: “‘Of course…that’s what everybody wants just a little more money, even the people who have it. And I must say I don’t blame them. Money’s awful nice to have. In fact, all things considered, I think, ‘Rene, that it’s even worth the price'” (1929, 190). Larsen reveals that economic security is a critical concern in the lives of these middle-class black women. Despite the vulnerabilities of revelation, Clare adamantly believes that the monetary and social advantages of passing for white surpass the disadvantages. Class, as inflected by gender within the nexus of race, con-…

Read or purchase the article here.

Call for Papers – ‘Skin Tone, “Colourism” and “Passing”’

University of Leeds
School of Sociology and Social Policy
Centre for Ethnicity and Racism Studies
Leeds, West Yorkshire, England
2013-09-11

Peter Edwards

The Race in the Americas (RITA) group, in partnership with the Centre for Ethnicity and Racism Studies (CERS), seeks abstract submissions on the theme of skin tone, ‘colourism’ and ‘passing’.

The seminar will be held on Saturday 8 March 2014, at the University of Leeds.

Submissions might include, but are not restricted to, research on the following topics:

• ‘Colourism’ as a prejudice within racial groups with regard to skin tone;
• The social implications of individuals passing as one race instead of another;
• The impact of ‘passing’ on the politics of representation and governance;
• The creation of space for a multi-ethnic identity: what is that space and does it exist? Are individuals forced to identify with one ethnicity over another?;
• Racial identity as a performance through clothing, speech and patterns of consumption;
• The proliferation of chemical products to lighten or darken skin tone and what this means for understandings of ‘race’;
• Cultural systems of caste classification and translations of skin tone into political structures;
• The role of skin tone in influencing confidence, and in determining social status within a power structure that privileges whiteness;

For more information, click here.

“Faithfully Drawn from Real Life”: Autobiographical Elements in Frank J. Webb’s The Garies and Their Friends

The Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography
Volume 137, Number 3 (July 2013)
pages 261-300
DOI: 10.5215/pennmaghistbio.137.3.0261

Mary Maillard

A resurgence of interest in Frank J. Webb’s The Garies and Their Friends—the second novel by an African American and the first to portray northern racism—underscores the need for consideration of recently discovered biographical information about this enigmatic author. Previously unknown details about the lives of Frank J. Webb (1828-94) and his family and friends parallel some of his literary portrayals, subtly inform other scenes and characters, and generally help to illuminate the unique combination of biography, social history, and creative imagination that constitute Webb’s complex literary achievement.

The Garies and Their Friends is constructed around two major narrative lines: the stories of the Garie family and the Ellis family. In Georgia, Clarence Garie, a white slave owner, is living openly with his mulatto slave mistress, Emily Winston; he treats her with as much affection and respect as if she were his wife and wishes to marry her, but interracial marriage is illegal in the state. They have two children, named after their parents, Clarence and Emily. The Garies entertain Emily’s cousin, George Winston, who, although born and raised in slavery, was educated and freed by a kind master. Now, with all the appearances of a refined gentleman, he is passing as white—much to the approbation and amusement of Mr. Garie.

In Philadelphia, the Ellises are a “highly respectable and industrious coloured family.” Mr. Ellis, a carpenter, and his wife, Ellen, have three…

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Frizzly Studies: Negotiating the Invisible Lines of Race

Common Knowledge
Volume 19, Number 3 (Fall 2013)
pages 518-529
DOI: 10.1215/0961754X-2281810

Daniel J. Sharfstein, Professor of Law
Vanderbilt University

Beginning with the assumption that race is a conceptual blur, this contribution to the Common Knowledge symposium “Fuzzy Studies” argues that race conflates what is plain to see with something that is invisible. Race roots today’s policy decisions in a remote and often imagined past. It blurs agency and overwhelming structural inequality. It is a set of categories that people define for themselves and that, at the same time, others — strangers, neighbors, government officials — relentlessly impose upon them. For four hundred years, the meaning of racial categories in North America has remained unstable. A central question underlying the history of race in the United States is how people could acknowledge the incoherence of racial categories while still structuring their lives, communities, politics, and culture around the idea of race. At a fundamental level, race has functioned as a set of rules and rights—and legal entitlements and disabilities are a primary source of meaning for racial categories. The law provides a starting point for understanding how there could be so much consensus regarding such a blur. Legal decision making is itself a process that blurs what is objective and subjective, scientific and social, precise and penumbral. Taken together, the pervasive fuzziness of race and law ensured the resilience of clear and definable regimes of discrimination and hierarchy.

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More than a “Passing” Sophistication: Dress, Film Regulation, and the Color Line in 1930s American Films

WSQ: Women’s Studies Quarterly
Volume 41, Numbers 1 & 2, Spring/Summer 2013
pages 60-86
DOI: 10.1353/wsq.2013.0048

Ellen Scott, Assistant Professor of Media Studies
Queens College, City University of New York

When we think of African American representations of 1930s Hollywood, we likely first envision the maid or butler—Hattie McDaniel as Mammy in Gone with the Wind (1939) or Gertrude Howard as Beulah Thorndyke in I’m No Angel (1933). These films arguably normalize black servitude as an inevitable part of an intractable and glamorous class system. Ramona Curry argues that Mae West’s maids “augment West’s featured—and fetishized—status, enhancing the star’s aura of power and sexual allure through their roles as servants and through their vividly contrasting visual presence, their dark skin, hair and costumes, setting off West’s shimmering bleached-blonde whiteness” (1996, 87). However, the composite image I describe above rests on a vague impression that black characters were uniformly servants and that onscreen servants always appeared in uniform. Take, as a counterexample, Morning Glory (1933), where maid Emma (Sana Rayya) seems to step out of the margins when she changes from her uniform into her fashionable leisure clothes. What is surprising is that despite Emma’s narrative insignificance, the transition is emphasized by lighting and framing—and an audacious saunter (fig. 1). Her placement at the center of the frame, between the arguing white protagonists, interrupts narrative attention, raising perhaps the ultimate cinematic question: who is she? The uniform, black and white and designedly nondescript, helps to set up the subsequent dramatic reveal of her flattering furs and hat, heightening the suddenness of the camera’s central attention to her and highlighting the inability of her uniform to contain or represent its wearer.

While the servant image was clearly the dominant black Hollywood representation during this era, it is also true that sometimes dress communicated a subtle roundness to black women’s characters and an interracial parity at a moment when censorship threatened overt statements of racial equality and images of white and black intimacy.

The Motion Picture Producer and Distributors of America’s Production Code of 1930 (commonly known as the “Hays Code”) famously repressed onscreen sexuality. But race was a part of a more daring, turmoil-ridden early Depression-era pre-Code cinema, which registered the desperate revolt of fallen women and forgotten men against a failing social system (Doherty 1999, 256). Accordingly, race also became a regulatory concern, as seen in the Code clause barring “miscegenation” and in the industry policy against racially motivated lynching (Courtney 2005; Wood 2009, 229). Costume, however, was a realm generally outside of censors’ close scrutiny in the 1930s and was thus a freer space of racial inscription than the narrative. Not only was costume essential to Depression-era screen narratives of class rise (and fall); it sometimes operated to complicate the narrative, threatening to distract viewers with its overwrought embellishment of a character’s affect and personality or glamorizing the “low” figures—the gold digger and the fallen women—that censors reviled (Gaines 1990, 188; Foster 2007; Jacobs 1997, 58-59). The lack of racial fixity in some 1930s Hollywood films revealed, if only incompletely, black women’s modern, urban personalities and small-scale revolts against the color line. Through motifs in dress—the quick-changing maid, interracial sartorial and sardonic parity, and stylized idealization of interracial spaces—aspects of these films silently normalized racial similarity and undermined the uniform servitude of the 1930s black image.

In these surprising moments black women stepped out of their prescribed subservience to glamorously become the center point of the camera’s gaze in ways that cast doubt on the naturalness of black inferiority and sometimes disrupted prevailing narratives of gender, race, and power. I begin with analysis of several pre-Code-era films and end with readings of Code-era films starring light-skinned black actress Fredi Washington, who became the vessel for dress-borne tensions about the color line latent in earlier films. Following Robert Stam’s call to resuscitate marginalized ethnic “voices” from Hollywood texts, I magnify those brief but arresting moments to which black spectators often attended where hidden worlds and selves come to the sartorial surface (Stam 1991; Everett 2000; Regester 2010). The unassuming configuration of an egalitarian ethos through…

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