. a blogumn by Monique King-Viehland As you may or may not know, I am the proud (and extremely tired) mother of a beautiful little boy named Sekou.  Sekou is almost 20 months old and is quite a handful.  You know people tell you lots of things before, during and after your pregnancy.  I thought I was prepared for everything – getting up in the middle of the night, fighting to get him to eat his dinner, tantrums that last only minutes but seem to last hours.  Yup, I thought I was prepared.  But no one could have prepared me for the greatest of horrors…..Nick Jr. That is right; I said it, Nick Jr. For you lucky individuals who don’t know it, Nick Jr. is the name of a cable network in the United States. The channel was known as Noggin up until September 28, 2009.  It is a 24 hour channel (e.g., no commercials) that is targeted towards pre-school age children.  Their slogan is “It’s Like Preschool on TV” and the programming is designed to simulate a preschool class environment and promote social and thinking skills through interactive play. And then there is PBS Kids, which is one of the PBS brands, that is also a 24 hour children’s programming channel. My son feels the need to watch it every time the TV is turned on.  I spend a great deal of my life watching kids programming lately, which is a bit like being trapped in the midst of a psychedelic haze! But in the midst of the haze, I have found something very interesting. Nick Jr. and PBS Kids have some of the most positive and assorted portrayals of race and “color.” I mean I am not a specialist in early childhood...

Is this the #1 trending topic among black bloggers are what? I saw this movie yesterday and absolutely loved it. The songs weren’t quite as there as other Disney movies, and I wished that they had hired a Broadway team as opposed to Randy Newman, whose music I’ve always liked but never loved (save of course, “I Love LA,” which is one of my favorite songs of all time). But other than that, I was very happy with this movie and think I will be able to put up with Betty watching it again and again and again on DVD when she gets older. Maybe. Now let’s move on to the heavy stuff: Race. Specifically, the IR romance between Tiana and the vaguely European prince. I’ve read so many black bloggers, saying things like, “I don’t have a problem with interracial relationships, but I wish the prince could have been black” or “Why couldn’t they have an African Prince?” or “I guess they had to make the prince non-black to sell it to middle America.” People bring up the recent spate of Will Smith films, in which he has a non-black love interest as proof that this is officially a catering trend. Okay I’m going to try to talk about this w/o including too many spoilers. Though there’s one spoiler about something that happens within the first 10 minutes of the film, which you can pretty much see coming, b/c it’s a Disney film. On the subject of Black Love, I adored Tiana’s parents. I loved the way that they treated her and interacted with her. I loved that they cooked together and that both of her parents put her to bed at night. And I loved that her father was a continuing influence...

Interestingly enough, I received this Newsweek article from three different people, which I took as a hint that I should mention it on the ole blog. The article can basically be summarized as this: even if white parents think they are teaching kids not to see race, kids still see it, and not only segregate themselves accordingly, but also consider their own race superior. This is mostly because as it turns out when most white parents say that they’re teaching their kids not to see race, what they really mean is that they don’t talk to their kids about race. Like at all. And so kids come to their own conclusion, like that their own skin color is the best, and oh yeah, that their liberal parents don’t like black people. Now I find this last point most interesting, b/c if you had asked me whether my parents liked white people when I was a child, I would have said no. Not because they didn’t like white people (I found out later that they both considered it a waste of time and energy to hate on white people), but because I never saw them with white people. They didn’t have any white friends and the only white people that ever came over to our house were invited by my sister and me. So no, I didn’t think my parents liked white people. And I imagine that it doesn’t matter how liberal you are or what you say. If your kids don’t regularly see you with people of other races, then they’ll probably come to the same conclusion as the kids in the featured Newsweek study. Oh, and another off-main-topic point from the article: the vast majority of people have a same-race best friend. I,...

Now here’s something that I’ve been thinking about a lot lately: How exactly am I going to spin being biracial to Betty? It’s interesting, because I grew up in the wake of the Black Pride movement, and even as formerly Afroed boomers were rushing to get perms and trading in their dashikis for business suits, they were encouraging my generation to hold our heads up high, and to take pride in where we come from, and you know, say it loud. So yes, I’m black and I’m proud. And CH, he’s … well he’s white. And Betty she’s biracial. Now, I’m not talking about picking one or the other. After talking with all of you about this a few months ago, I’ve decided to encourage Betty to embrace being both black and white, even if others are too small-minded to do so. It’ll be good practice for life, because people are always trying to tell You who You are, and what You are and are not capable of, and how You should be. But of course only you can do You, and really you’re the You expert, so you’ve got the last word on all about You. But I am wondering how one goes about spinning being biracial. I grew up feeling I was special, born of a storied people, who had overcome much. But how to instill both black pride and white pride? One is referenced often in a joyful way, and the other is the stuff of skinheads and racists. The simple answer to the question of Betty is that she is a testament to our love and an awesome example of two races coming together. But does this make her special? Should I tell her she is special for being biracial...

So by far one of my most popular posts has been “Raising Biracial Children,” which I wrote before I had any actual Biracial children living outside my womb or the gleam in my eye. I suspected as I was writing it that my perspective would change once I actually had said child, and I have to say that I was pretty much right about that. I think what has been most surprising is how little I think about Betty being biracial. Beforehand, I thought this would be a subject that would stay on my mind 24/7, but in reality being a new mother eclipses all issues of race. For example: Day 1: Oh my God, she turns red when she cries! Is that normal? (I am assured by my white husband and Betty’s doctor that it is). At 1 week: I’m not thinking about the color of her skin, I’m thinking about the color of her poo. What’s up with the green tint? (Doctor says it’s the formula we’ve been supplementing her with for the jaundice. At 2 weeks: Oh no, not diaper rash! At 6 weeks: Yes, let’s talk about Betty’s skin. Seriously, what’s up with this baby acne all over her face, back, stomach, and neck? That can’t be normal. (Doctor once again assures us it is and it goes away in 2 weeks.) 3 months: Look at Betty’s gums. Do you think she’s teething early? Also, Betty seems to get a little confused when my sister comes to visit. (Though she doesn’t really like strangers at this point, Betty decides that she digs this Sorta-Looks-Like-Mommy. This will kick off a trend of her being extra smiley with dark-skinned black women. Funny.) 4 months: I love this baby fat! In fact, I...