Searching for Identity: Race, adoption and awareness in the millennial generation
What happens when a black boy is adopted at birth into a white world where race and racism are ghosts of the past and racial identity is a silly thing to waste time thinking about? As a transracial adult adoptee of color, my life journey offers an answer to this very question.
And what happens when a mostly white millennial generation is raised without an accurate understanding of race, racism or their role in a racialized society? As Slate’s chief political correspondent Jamelle Bouie puts it, our generation “think[s] if we ignore skin color, racism will somehow disappear.”
Both questions are connected because I — and many of my millennial peers — came up in similar race-erasing worlds. Both questions are important to me, because my life experiences motivate me to address the racial confusion of the millennial generation.
I lead the Impact Race initiative for a global nonprofit called Net Impact, connecting our 100,000 members with the awareness, language and resources to lead for racial equity in their communities and careers. Members represent hundreds of campuses and companies across a wide variety of industries, including the local tech industry. Aspects of my journey as a transracial adoptee, and the majority white millennial generation experience in the United States, highlight the importance of pushing the conversation toward an honest, reflective look at how to understand racism and lead for racial equity.
Ignorance is bliss, until it isn’t.
I am a mixed-race black male raised in and around whiteness. Race had about as much real significance as the color of one’s shoelaces, and racism was a wrong of years gone by. In this world, to be ‘black’ (this is how I was and am categorized) meant a list of hollow stereotypes such as the expectation of athletic skill. But mostly there was just deafening silence when it came to me being black. Of course, all of this was ‘normal’ to me — it was all I ever knew. It was also normal to all the white kids I grew up with. This is, in part, the reason that a ‘raceless’, colorblind worldview is normal to many of my white millennial peers today.
I was navigating the waters of racial identity at a young age, while also searching to fill the void left by the displacement of adoption. I never knew which box to check. A heavy dosage of the once -prevalent (now debunked) ‘love is enough’ approach to adoption was very effective in rendering me racially oblivious and thus unprepared to cope with the reality of the racialized world in which I was coming of age.
I desperately needed to be prepared. Although I did benefit from the white privilege of my adoptive family during my childhood, the more I stepped out from under that umbrella (outside the house, out of the view of parents in the grocery store, in the locker room), the more it became clear that I was viewed as ‘other.’
As God would have it, a pivotal chapter in my adoption journey, along with a series of terrible events across the country, would coalesce to advance my racial self-awareness. Just as I needed to be prepared, so also does the millennial generation need to wake up to the fact that most of the conceptions they hold regarding race in America are, in fact, misconceptions.
Time to Wake Up!
I started the reunification process with my birth family at the beginning of my freshman year of college. This entailed connecting with both my birth parents along with other immediate and extended family whom I had never met, but many of whom knew of me and had been praying for me. It was (and still is) a beautifully complicated experience. I had so many questions — both about myself and about my adoption—and suddenly answers were within my grasp. I was immersed in my African American heritage — people, places, stories and traditions that I had never experienced were somehow familiar. Imagine dropping a dry sponge on a puddle of water — rapid absorption. I was learning and living with a more complete sense of self. The experience of reunification is an ongoing one, with ups and downs. Even though life as an adoptee, in or out of reunion, never stops being complex, I know that my steps into young adulthood would not have been as sure without a connection to my roots.
In the early morning hours of January 1, 2009, Oscar Grant was murdered on a train platform in Oakland, California. I remember the exact moment when I realized that I was Oscar Grant. I was transported out of my individual circumstances and onto that BART platform as I fully understood that how I was viewed, and how I identified, held fatally unequal weight. This lit a flame within me. No matter how great of a code-switcher I had become, the type of life-or-death judgement that ended Oscar’s life would not wait for my explanation, my exploration or others’ commiseration.
February 26, 2012 brought with it the murder of Trayvon Martin.
November 23rd of that same year marks the murder of Jordan Davis.
The flame quickly grew to a blaze.
From 2009 to the present day, every name: Oscar, Trayvon, Michael, Jordan, Rekia, Tamir, Laquan, Eric, Akai, Walter, Sandra, Freddie, the Charleston Nine (this list sadly goes on and on), has renewed my commitment to a journey of inquiry for the root causes of racial inequity and for solutions. My eyes were opened to see everything through a new lens — not just acts of racial violence that periodically garner media attention, but the everyday realities that people of color face in this country.
Though the individual risk will never be as high for white millennials, as the largest living generation in a country that is increasingly diverse, the collective need for awareness has never been higher. We all need to open our eyes. We all need to wake up.
Activating Awareness
The stakes were high for me to adjust my worldview — potentially life and death. The stakes are incredibly high for white and nonwhite millennials to bring a racial justice lens to their lives. As best-selling author Ta-Nehisi Coates notes in reference to multiple generations of white Americans, including millennials:
“The Dreamers will have to learn to struggle themselves. To understand that the field for their Dream, the stage where they have painted themselves white, is the deathbed of us all. The Dream is the same habit that endangers this planet, the same habit that sees our bodies stowed away in prisons and ghettos.” — Between the World and Me
Coates’ grim prognosis of the false security of “The American Dream” and the effects of U.S. racism should compel us all to first seek understanding and then racial equity-oriented solutions.
Simply opening one’s eyes is not enough, we must seek the context to interpret that which we now see. My Christian faith, my current understanding of the factors that influenced my childhood experiences as a transracial adoptee, and my everyday experience as a black man in America, fuel my life’s commitment to education and advocacy.
For the record, I love and admire my adoptive parents tremendously. There was a lot of good in my upbringing and nearly all of it was because of them. Most notably, they planted in me seeds of Faith that have grown to anchor not only my desire to love my Lord and my fellow human beings, but to also guide and define my purpose in this work and my very existence on this planet. I do not blame my parents or millennials for what amounts to the crippling combination of good intentions and a prevalent but incorrect racial paradigm. What I can do, following in the pattern of Coates and others, is lift the veil.
At Net Impact we believe that racial equity awareness is not only a moral imperative of our time, but also a key leadership competency. We are committed to playing a role in both developing understanding and activating awareness. If our organizational reflection has shown us anything, it is that diagnosis determines treatment. Accurate information and context is crucial for a true diagnosis of the racial ills that plague our country. I am hopeful that the level of awareness we encourage will result in sustained commitment and action.
What does this have to do with Diversity in Tech?
Net Impact is the largest network for millennials who want to make a positive impact both on their campuses and throughout their careers. Folks within our network find their way into business, tech, nonprofit, government, media and sometimes all of the above.
The case for more racial equity awareness in tech is strong. Tech makes up 11.6% of the U.S.’ total private sector payroll. As that number continues to grow, it is important that awareness grows along with it. Not only that, but the sector’s ability to influence through advocacy with federal, state and local governments is greater than ever. Technology is rapidly shaping the future — people connect and organize in ways that were not possible even 10 years ago. From the board room to city hall to the streets, technology is evolving the way we live and interact. Emerging leaders in tech need to not only reflect the growing diversity of the country, but also possess the racial equity awareness to navigate towards inclusive solutions at work and in life.
Net Impact is so fortunate that Symantec shares this vision for their own workforce and the workforce of tomorrow. Thanks to this partnership, our members are gaining and strengthening their own awareness while making waves for racial equity on their campuses and in the workplace. Some of them will soon step into leadership roles in tech, a sector that has historically struggled with diversity and racial equity. I am confident that they will lead in the right direction.
My name is Dwight and I am the Chapters and Impact Programs Manager at Net Impact. I also serve on the board of Pact, an organization committed to serving adopted children of color, and the board of CORO Norcal, an organization that has been cultivating people for ethical, collaborative and cross-sectoral leadership for over 70 years. You can find me jamming out with colleagues and friends, cooking and baking on occasion, or playing any competitive sport. I also love to read great books. I am still working on how to add hours to the day so that I can read them all.
