The color of love | Elizabeth Hordge-Freeman | TEDxUSF

Racism and racial inequality have been the topics of discussion particularly present over the last few years in the U.S. Some people suggest that increased racial mixture will lead to the end of racism. By using her personal experience traveling to Brazil, Hordge-Freeman will make an argument that racial mixture does not eliminate racism.

“Dr. Elizabeth Hordge-Freeman is Assistant Professor of Sociology and Latin American Studies at USF. She received her B.A from Cornell University and her M.A./Ph.D. in Sociology from Duke University in 2012. Dr. Hordge-Freeman’s first book, The Color of Love: Racial Features, Stigma, and Socialization in Black Brazilian Families is slated for publication in November 2015. She is motivated by her passion for exposing inequality, and with funding from a Fulbright grant and other sources, she is researching modern slavery and human trafficking in Brazil and the U.S.”

This talk was given at a TEDx event using the TED conference format but independently organized by a local community. Learn more at http://ted.com/tedx

All the differences
that biological siblings might have,

we don't think of racial difference
as being on the top of that list.

But over the past few years
there's been quite a bit of interest,

even a media frenzy,

over couples and families,
around the world,

who've had children of a different race.

I'm really interested in these questions.

I'm intrigued by the presence
of these sibling pairs.

In many cases, they're biological twins
of a quote unquote "different race."

I've been collecting photos
and articles about these sibling pairs,

reading about their lives.

I've been fascinated about
how the media portrays them

as feats of humanity, marvels of science.

All because they have
a different racial appearance.

But what's even more fascinating
than these photos themselves,

has been the public reaction to them.

Some people view these pictures
as evidence that racism is over.

Others, on the other hand,
feel as though racism isn't over,

but that racial mixture like this
might lead us to the end of racism.

Now, as a sociologist,
I disagree with both of those ideas.

But I think that there are two
important lessons

that we can learn from these photos.

Number one is I think
that these sibling pairs

are the perfect example of how we know
that race is a social construction.

So sure, these siblings have differences
in skin color, and even in hair texture.

But these superficial differences

don't justify the creation
of racial categories.

There's no biological basis
for this thing that we call "race."

But even as I say this as a sociologist,
I know that race and racism matter.

They matter in our society.

When I say "racism,"

what I'm talking about
is the unequal distribution

of economic, political,
and educational resources.

But I studied race in family.

I'm particularly interested
in how race can infiltrate families.

This is the important part;

how race can lead to unequal distribution
of love and affection in the same family.

So how parents treat their children,

how grandparents treat
their grandchildren,

how siblings interact with one another,
can all be impacted by racism.

The question that drives my work
is whether or not it might be true

that what love looks like in families
can depend on what you look like.

The basic premise of this talk
really challenges what many of us

fundamentally believe
to be true about families.

We have a type of collective investment
in believing families are our safe haven.

This is why we have these phrases:
"Home is where the heart is."

"There's no place like home,"
I guess Dorothy said it best.

"Home sweet home."

All of these phrases really resonate

with the importance
that we give to families.

What I'm suggesting today,
and challenging you to do

is think about how families
are much more complex and contradictory

than we ever give them credit for being.

As it relates to race in particular,

families can certainly protect
family members against racism

but they might also reproduce racism.

When emotions are thrown into the mix,
we know that home is where the heart is,

but home might also be where the hurt is.

For me and my quest, in terms of studying
questions of race, love, and emotions,

I was inevitably drawn
to an incredible country,

and that was Brazil.

What most of you may not know
about Brazil is that the mix

between African, indigenous,
and Portuguese populations has given rise

to some of the most racially diverse
families in the world.

In Brazil, having a baby
is a bit like playing racial roulette,

because of the uncertainty
about which racial features might emerge

in the genetic lottery.

Even though it's true, that racial mixture
in Brazil is very high,

racism also still exists,

whiteness is still overvalued,

and a person's life chances
and life opportunities

are still shaped by
their physical proximity to whiteness.

So what does that mean?

A person's skin color, hair texture,
and facial features can all come

to shape their life outcomes.

But again this takes me back
to that question that I began with.

We know that racial appearance
matters in society.

But might it also matter
in people's families?

How might racial appearance impact
how people are treated

within their own homes
and with their own family relationships?

Now you might be thinking, "Okay,
this sounds like an exciting project,"

and Brazil was certainly
the ideal location for this project.

That was a "no-brainer" for me.

But there were some barriers
in my research.

First, I had to learn Portuguese.

After overcoming that barrier,
I had to deal with my own skepticism

about whether I would be able
to observe some of the dynamics

about which I'm talking.

So in one of my earliest trips to Brazil,
I met a woman by the name of Ana.

Ana was a local student at the university.

When I told her that I was interested
in studying race, love, and family,

she had the following response:

She said, "Yes, in a family,
people are happy to have children.

They have the dark one first, but when
the white one comes, everything changes.

The white one is treated well,
and the dark one is forgotten.

The black one is punished because
it is said to have "a cara dum escravo."

"The face of a slave."

You can imagine that this was
a powerful statement to be made.

But it also made me feel as though
I wasn't so far in left field

with this interest that I had in capturing
race, love, and emotion in families.

In my book, "The Color of Love", I spend
over 16 months working with families,

interviewing over 100 people
in ten core families in Brazil,

in order to study these very dynamics,

in order to study how race, love,
and family function together.

Sure enough, I found a number of examples
that resonated with what Ana had said

to me about "the face of a slave."

So first I met a woman
by the name of Doña Elena.

Doña Elena, in her interview,
reveals to me

that when she delivered
a dark-skinned baby,

and her husband saw the baby
for the first time, his reply was,

"Where did you get that black baby?
Levá la de volta."

"Take her back."

Corina had a similar story.

She told me about when
she delivered her oldest son.

Her partner and his mother came to visit.

They took one look
at the baby's black ears,

and decided that her partner
would not recognize this child.

Their assumption was that this child would
eventually grow up to be dark skinned.

So for that reason they figured
it was not possible for the son

to have fathered a dark-skinned child.

Then there's the third example.

A nine-year-old girl named Hegany.

She's by far my favorite interviewee
during my time in Brazil.

She was brilliant, she was boisterous,
she was effervescent.

She had this type of honest sincerity,

this type of vulnerability that many of us
tend to lose as we get older.

Coincidentally, during the time
I'm interviewing Hegany and her family,

her mother actually
gives birth to a baby girl.

This baby girl is unanimously viewed
as perfect: white skin, and straight hair.

I ask Hegany, "What does it feel like
to be a big sister? What is this like?"

Her response to me was the following,

"Eu tenho medo de perder
o carinho dos meus pais."

"I'm afraid of losing
the love of my parents."

So I asked Hegany,
"Why do you feel this way?

Why do you think this might happen?"

She looks back at me,
and she says, "Because of the baby.

You saw her, didn't you?
She was born clean, with straight hair.

I'm afraid they will love her more.

Her hair won't give them as much trouble.

Everyone is saying it.

She'll have everything,
and I'll have nothing."

Hegany covers her face
with her hands and begins to sob.

What's so devastating about this interview
is that she's only nine years old.

Yet even at this age,
she understands how racial features

can impact the way
that her family interacts with her;

the level of love and affection
that she might receive in the family.

Over the course of the weeks and months
that I'm in this family, I observe Hegany,

and she shows herself
to be resentful of the baby.

She's constantly, almost
obsessively observing the baby.

Waiting to see changes
in the baby's skin color,

waiting for it to become darker,

for the baby's hair
to become a little bit curlier.

But something else happens.

I also see Hegany holding
the baby closely, rocking her tightly,

and taking on the role as a big sister.

What this suggested to me is that honest
portrayal of families was a partial one.

That there were numbers of ways
that families could both reproduce

and resist racism.

Doña Elena, who I mentioned before,
had a daughter who was dark skinned,

but she viewed her dark skin
as being evidence that her daughter

possessed true black beauty.

Other families developed
alternative anti-racist personas.

The best example of this is a father
who insists that I call him,

"Pantera Negra."

"The Black Panther."

He names himself after
the Black Panthers in the United States,

and has a radical political agenda

that involves raising
the racial consciousness

of people in his neighborhood.

He introduces me to his wife,
who he calls the "Panterona,"

"The Big Panther,"

who also is committed to the same thing,
to raising racial consciousness.

Now what does all of this,
what do all of these narratives

tell us about racism
in the United States and Brazil?

Any effort to eradicate racism
has to leverage the power

and the influence of families
and communities.

But not just that, it must also promote
concrete public policies,

concrete legislative actions that lead
to structural changes in our society.

I love the example of "Pantera Negra"
because he really shows

the importance of global linkages.

In his case, he's building
on the Black Panthers.

Contemporary social movements now,
like "Black Lives Matter,"

are also exceptionally successful
because they're relevant

both in the local contexts,

but also because they're relevant
in the global context.

The best part about their message
is that it's relevant for white folks

but it's also relevant for people of color

who may have internalized
anti-black racism.

Where do we go from here?

Frederick Douglas says,

"Power concedes nothing without a demand."

I encourage each of you to use
your families and communities

to work together to articulate demands
that can move us towards forging

a better future, an anti-racist society
that leads to the eradication of racism

in the United States, Brazil,
and the rest of the world.