In the midst of the historic 2008 Presidential Election, an article about the surge in “Multiracial Americans” and their quest for understanding appeared on the website of a major news organization.
The story was about Americans whose origins are of mixed race. It focused the discussion on individuals like former President Barack Obama who is the progeny of a parent of African (American) ancestry and of another race. ”Hispanics”, the second largest population in the nation, were only mentioned in the context of a Puerto Rican (presumably of European descent) marrying an African American.
The story was problematic for the following reason: “Hispanics” constitute 18% of the population in the US. Two-thirds of that total is of Mexican origin. And, according to Mexican ethnic data, up to two-thirds of Mexican Americans are of mixed-race, products of the Spanish conquest of the Americas and its native people. Yet, the Census statistics currently show that less than 3% of the American population is of mixed race.
How did this discrepancy come into existence?
In the 1980 Census form that was sent to every households, Americans were provided the opportunity to assert whether they were of Spanish/Hispanic origin or descent.
This is how the sociological construct “Hispanic” became the all-encompassing term to identify all persons of Spanish and Latin American origin. This is how persons of Spanish and Latin American origin went from being classified as only white to “Hispanic.” This is why “mestizos”, persons of Spanish and indigenous descent, don’t exist according to the US government. And, it is how the discrepancy in the Census statistic for mixed-race population came into being.
Like many Americans, I have dealt with the “Hispanic” and “mixed race” issue while responding to the ethnicity and race questions on the decennial Census.
After affirming my ‘Spanish/Hispanic or Latino’ ethnicity, I have always been inclined to mark ‘Native American’. But choosing ‘Native American’ requires providing the name of a tribe. My genome says I’m 67.2% Native American and suggests that my ancestral homelands spanned the present-day Four Corners region of the US. It also says I’m 21.9% Southern European, 4.5 Sub-Sharan African and 3.4 Northern Asian. But the native American origins are relatively undefined. For that reason, I have reluctantly marked the generic ‘White’ option for the race.
According to the 2000 Census, 97% of the persons who did not identify with any of the five major race response categories and marked ‘some other race’ are “Hispanic.”
When it pertains to self-identification, even before I was aware of my genome, I perceived myself to be of ‘mixed race’. My features are indigenous and native to the Americas. My surname and complexion told me I am also of European-Spanish origin. However, not knowing the exact roots of my family tree, I could not claim either with certainty.
As I reflect on the experience of completing the Census form, I realize that the unfamiliarity with my past manifests in the choices I mark on the Census form. Like many fellow mestizos, I have never been comfortable with my responses because instinctively I realize that they do not reflect all that I am.
I know the Census is not an ethnographic study. The Constitution requires the conduct of the Census for political apportionment purposes. So I know that the US Government will continue to enumerate and classify its population.
As long as I am counted and recognized as an American, I’m not overly concerned about how I am categorized. Nonetheless, the information that is collected by the Census cannot be ignored. Census data spur research that leads to media stories that perpetuate and promulgate narratives that are received as gospel in all segments of society.
In short, introspective discussions about Americans of ‘mixed race’ in the public domain are examples of how the Census can be utilized. Unfortunately, the discussions are also examples of how the long history of people of Spanish and indigenous descent is marginalized and diminished in the US.
