Race in (Inter) Action: Identity Work and Interracial Couples' Navigation

Race in (Inter)Action: Identity Work and Interracial Couples’ Navigation of Race in Everyday Life

A Dissertation Submitted to the Graduate School at the University of Cincinnati

in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of

Doctor of Philosophy (Ph.D.)

in the Department of Sociology of the College of Arts and Sciences

Ainsley E. Lambert-Swain B.A., Morehead State University, 2009 M.A., University of Cincinnati, 2013

Dissertation Chair: Jennifer Malat Committee Members: Littisha Bates Sarah Mayorga-Gallo

July 2018

ABSTRACT

Interracial couples are a growing population in the United States. In 1967, after the Loving v. Virginia Supreme Court case ended all legal restrictions of interracial sex and marriage, just 3% of newlyweds were interracial. In 2015, approximately fifty years later, the percentage of interracially married newlyweds was more than five times that amount. This increase is even higher when non-married and non-heterosexual couples are accounted for. At the same time, the

U.S. remains highly segregated by race. This means that interracial couples often move between racially homogenous settings wherein either partner is the only member of their race.

Consequently, couples must navigate shifting racial meanings as they traverse racial boundaries in their everyday lives. Using in-depth interviews with 40 partners in White/non-White interracial relationships, this study examines the identity processes involved as couples navigate race and racism in interaction. Findings shed light on couples’ struggle to assess how their interraciality shapes the way they are perceived by others in a highly racialized society; how White partners, who experience racial salience often for the first time, consciously manage their identity in non-

White spaces; and how White partners make sense of the racism they observe from other Whites in their social worlds.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Without a doubt, the completion of this project would not have been possible without the varied and countless contributions of my committee members, colleagues, and family. First and foremost, I wish to thank my mentor and committee chair, Jennifer Malat, who believed in my ideas and so unselfishly shared her time, insight, and encouragement. Beyond this project, I am also grateful for her example of conscientious leadership, which for me, has demonstrated how we as race scholars can contribute to real and lasting change both within the institutions we serve, and beyond through community engagement. I would also like to thank my committee members,

Littisha Bates and Sarah Mayorga-Gallo, for their feedback and support throughout this project. I am sincerely grateful to know such brilliant, fierce, generous, and genuinely kind scholars.

I would also like to thank the Department of Sociology, Taft Research Center, and the

Kunz Center for Social Research for their support of this project. In addition, I am especially thankful to my participants for their time and willingness to share the intimate details of their lives and relationships. Without their openness and generosity, this project would not have been possible.

The friendships I have developed throughout my graduate school career are invaluable. My utmost thanks to Megan Underhill, who in addition to sharing many kind and encouraging words, willingly shared information and insights from her experience as she successfully completed the program and the job market ahead of me. Thank you for rooting for me! I am also immensely grateful for my sociology friends who became “framily”—Aaryn Green, Curtis Webb, and Alan

Grigsby. Over the years, we have celebrated one another’s triumphs and saw each other through setbacks and disappointments. Regardless of time and distance, you have always been there to lend

iii an ear, share a drink, and make me laugh. I am forever indebted to you for your friendship and for making Cincinnati feel more like home.

Looking back, I realize that much of what set me on this path towards a Ph.D. is my family—my mom and dad, Pam and Larry, and my sister Ashley. I am immensely thankful for the sacrifices they made, and for the moral compass and work ethic they cultivated in me. Thank you for celebrating every milestone along this journey and for your unwavering support. Finally, I am grateful beyond measure for my best friend and loving husband, Lamont. Thank you for believing in me and encouraging me to pursue my goals; for being my refuge during the times it felt impossible; and for reminding me when I managed to forget that I have what it takes. I love you all.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Abstract…………………………………....…………………………………………………………... i

Acknowledgements…………………….……………………………………………………………… iii

List of Tables and Figures…..……………………………..……………………………………...…… vi

Chapter I: Introduction and Methods…..…………………………………….…………………...…… 1

Chapter II: Dyadic Double Consciousness: How Interracial Couples Assess Others’ Perceptions in Interaction………………………………………………………………….……………………….. 15

Literature…………..……………………………………………………………………….…… 17

Methods……………………..………………………………………………………..…...…….. 21

Findings……..………..…………………………………………………………..……..………. 21

Discussion……….....………………...……………………….………………….……………... 37

Chapter III: “I Was Trying to Kind of Fit In”: White Interracial Partners’ Impression Management in Non-White Settings…………………………………………………………………………………. 40

Literature…………..……………………………………………….…………………………… 41

Methods……………………..………………………………………..…………………...…….. 46

Findings……..……………………………………………………....……………...…………… 47

Discussion…………………………....………………………………..………………………... 74

Chapter IV: Making Sense of Inconsistency: White Partners on Interpersonal Racism in “Nonracist” White Spaces…………………………………………………………………………………………. 79

Literature…………..………………………………………………………………...………..… 80

Methods……………………..…………………………………………………...……………… 84

Findings……..……………………………………………..……………...……………..……… 84

Discussion…………………………....……………………….………………………….……... 94

Chapter V: Conclusion……………...……………………………………...... 98

Bibliography…..……………………………………………………………………………… 104

Appendix A…..…………………………………………………………………………...…. 115

List of Tables and Figures

Table 1. Racial and Gender Makeup of Couples……………………………………………….14

Table 2. Partners of Color Self-Identified Race/Ethnicity………………………..……………115

Figure 1. Map Visualization of Population Density and Racial Segregation in Cincinnati, OH…….6

CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION

It’s something that I'm trying to understand. It's something that I don't know if there's ever going to be like an easy answer, an easy solution, or a way to make to feel it right because there's so much that's so long in our culture and I think that's part of the battle. I think that's part of the struggle for interracial couples is you know, weighing love against a historical context that makes it so much more complicated than just that.

-Abby, White partner in interracial relationship

The year 2017 marked the 50th anniversary of Loving v. Virginia, the Supreme Court case which ruled antimiscegenation laws unconstitutional and ended all legal restrictions of interracial sex and marriage. Approximately fifty years later, romantic partnerships across racial borders have increased substantially, accounting for 17% of all new marriages in 2015 (Livingston and Brown

2017). Harvard Law professor, Randall Kennedy (2003: 37) argues that “the rates of interracial dating, marriage, and adoption are inching, and in some places rocketing, upward,” and cites this as evidence that “Americans are becoming increasingly multiracial in their tastes, affections, and identities.” Moreover, we see interracial couples propped up in popular discourse as symbols of racial progress and growing racial acceptance, with some going as far to suggest that interracial couples have the potential to end racism (Cashin 2017). Yet, there is host of evidence that suggests a much more complicated picture.

First, empirical research consistently demonstrates continued racial disparities across a number of important social outcomes, such as wealth and income (Oliver and Shapiro 2006), education (Bates and Glick 2013; Ryan and Bauman 2016), housing (McCabe 2016), and health

(Malat, Jacquez, and Slavich 2017; Malat, Mayorga-Gallo, and Williams 2018). That is to say,

1 empirical evidence suggests increasing rates of interracial intimacy do little to reduce structural inequality. Second, responses to portrayals of interracial couples in the media indicate the broader society is still resistant to interracial intimacy. For instance, in 2013, Cheerios ran a television ad featuring a multiracial family. The ad received such severe racist backlash it was pulled from the air, though it was eventually returned after a wave backlash to the backlash (Goyette 2013). A similar culture war played out on social media in 2016 after Old Navy tweeted an ad that featured a multiracial family (Pérez-Peña 2016).

Third, contradictions about the acceptance of interracial couples are also apparent in attitudinal data. While changes in Americans’ attitudes reveal increasing approval of interracial couples over time, the percentage of Americans who approve of someone in their family marrying outside of their race is much lower, suggesting Americans are more likely to approve of interracial relationships when they happen elsewhere—not in their own families (Wang 2012). Finally, perhaps the most important evidence regarding acceptance of interracial couples and multiracial families stems from their first-hand accounts. Findings from empirical studies reveal that interracial couples and multiracial families continue to face hostilities and resistance in the form of group sanctions, stares, stereotypes, family opposition, and discrimination (Childs 2005;

Dalmage 2000; McNamara, Tempenis, and Walton 1999; Steinbugler 2012; Twine 2010). In sum, despite others’ assertions that growing rates of interracial intimacy reflect society’s achievement of colorblindness or racial equality, there is overwhelming evidence to suggest otherwise. Yet, how do interracial couples make sense of these contradictions? How do couples contend with judgements of their relationship? How does race shape their interactions in everyday life?

Previous literature on interracial couples has included an examination of trends in rates of interracial marriage (Qian and Lichter 2007), the increased likelihood of divorce for some

2 interracial couples compared to same-race couples (Bratter and King 2008), as well as comparisons of the quality of interracial relationships with that of same-race couples (Troy, Lewis-Smith, and

Laurenceau 2006). Others have used qualitative methods to explore the experiences of interracial couples. Though an overwhelming majority of qualitative studies focus on Black-White couples,

Nemoto (2009) breaks this mold in her study of Asian American/White couples, in which she takes a psychoanalytic approach to examine how desire is shaped by systems of power linked to race and gender. Others, like Dalmage (2000), explore how members of Black-White multiracial families, including monoracial parents and their mixed race children, navigate a society that assumes and enforces clear racial divisions and boundaries. Childs (2005) takes a broader, multi- method approach to studying Black-White couples by examining couples’ everyday experiences alongside data from focus groups with Black and White community members, as well as an analysis of the images and discourses surrounding Black-White intimacy on the internet. Both

Dalmage (2000) and Childs (2005) consider how Black-White couples and multiracial families are caught up in socially constructed meanings of interracial intimacy resulting in resistance to their relationships.

Because the U.S. is a highly racially segregated society, couples often find themselves in settings in which either partner is the only member of their race (or one of few). In Beyond Loving,

Steinbugler (2012) introduces the concept of racework to explore how Black/White heterosexual and same-sex couples navigate race in their everyday lives. Her work, like mine, emphasizes the role that racial segregation plays in constructing physical and social boundaries between racial groups that interracial couples must learn to navigate. Steinbugler (2012: 156) examines “the energies partners expend deciding which…social environments are comfortable for each partner and managing the fatigue that comes from being one of the few persons of one’s race in a given

3 place.” My study extends our understanding of how interracial couples navigate racially homogenous spaces by employing a symbolic interactionist framework to examine how partners construct, negotiate, and communicate racial identities in micro-level interaction.

In a racialized society like that of the U.S., racial categories and their associated meanings are socially constructed and imposed on individuals based on phenotypical racial markers. Because of the pervasiveness of race, our racial identities shape our lived experience, how we view the world, how we understand ourselves and others, and how we interact with one another. As such, race is also constructed at the micro-level as we rely on hegemonic racial meanings to guide interaction. Thus, race is simultaneously a status that is imposed at birth and one that is negotiated and accomplished in interaction. Identity work refers to “the range of activities individuals engage in to create, present, and sustain” conceptions of who they are (Snow and Anderson 1987: 14).

Because racial meanings shift over time and space, individuals must assess contextual factors and adjust their racial performance accordingly. In this study, I explore how partners in interracial relationships experience these interactional processes as they navigate race and racism in their daily lives by addressing the following research questions: How do interracial couples believe their interraciality shapes the way they are perceived by others in interaction? How do White partners consciously think about and manage their White identity in non-White spaces? How do White partners make sense of the interpersonal racism they observe from other Whites in their social worlds? Below, I provide a discussion of how I completed this study, as well as an overview of the dissertation.

Methods

Data for this study were gathered from semi-structured in-depth interviews and demographic questionnaires with 40 members of White/non-White1 heterosexual couples in

Cincinnati, Ohio. Unlike most other studies of interracial relationships, this study examines the experiences of couples beyond the Black-White dichotomy. Because this creates significant variation in the data, I made the decision to focus exclusively on heterosexual couples to avoid introducing too many competing variables (Steinbugler 2012). In addition, the purpose of this study is to examine how partners think about and navigate race in interaction. Thus, there was no reason to limit participation to married couples. However, to ensure that couples had been together long enough to experience navigating interactions together, inclusion in this study required that participants have been in a committed relationship for at least 6 months. The length of time participants reported having been together ranged from 6 months to 25 years, with the average relationship being nearly seven years long at the time of the interview.

Interviews were conducted in the spring and summer of 2016 in Cincinnati—a mid-sized city (pop. estimate 300,000) in Southwest Ohio that sits directly on the Kentucky-Ohio state border. Cincinnati is largely a Black-White city: 50.7% of the population is White and 43.1% is

Black/African American. Other racial groups are represented in small numbers, with Asians,

Hispanics/Latinos, and Native Americans making up just 1.8%, 3.2%, and .2% of the population, respectively (U.S. Census). Moreover, Cincinnati has a long history of racial tensions and racial segregation, which has contributed to large and entrenched racial disparities (Jackson 2018;

Greater Cincinnati Urban League 2015). Today, Cincinnati is often listed among the most racially segregated cities in the United States, including its metro area (Kent and Frohlich 2015). This point

1 The racial makeup of couples in this study varied, though every couple included a White partner. Thus, I use “White/Non-White” to broadly refer to the interracial status of couples. 5 is illustrated in the map in Figure 1, which uses demographic data research provided by the Weldon

Cooper Center for Public Service (Cable 2013). Thus, Cincinnati is an interesting site to explore how interracial couples navigate race across racially homogenous spaces.

Figure 1. Map Visualization of Population Density and Racial Segregation in Cincinnati, OH

Almost all participants were recruited using non-probability purposive snowball sampling through professional and personal contacts. In addition, flyers were distributed at local grocery stores and laundromats, and contact was made with local Facebook groups for members of interracial relationships. These efforts produced only two interviews with members of one

Black/White couple. No interviews resulted from flyer distribution, despite a $15 incentive.2 Thus, heavy reliance on snowball sampling shaped the overall characteristics of the sample, specifically in terms of education and income. Participants were highly educated: all held high school diplomas, while twenty-four had attended some college or received a bachelor’s degree, and eleven held advanced degrees. On average, participants’ individual annual income was $43,600, compared to the Cincinnati 2016 median per capita income of $26,000/year (U.S. Census).

Participants’ ages ranged from 22 to 55 years, with a mean age of 32 years, and a median age of

29 years. In Table 1, I provide the racial and gender makeup of the couples in which each partner belonged (ten White/Asian couples, two White/Indian, eight White/Black, two White/Non-White

Hispanic or Latino, and one White/Middle Eastern couple).3 Because six participants did not connect me with their partners for interviews,4 the total sample includes 18 White participants and

22 participants of color.

Table 1. Racial and Gender Makeup of Couples

Men/Women Women/Men White / Asian 3 7 White / Indian - 2 White / Black 2 6 White / Non-White Hispanic or Latino 1 1 White / Middle Eastern 1 - Total 7 16

2 It is difficult to assess why this is the case. In several instances, I spoke at length with potential participants, answered questions about the study, and provided my contact information. However, despite their interest, they did not follow up to participate. In addition, even though I was able to authenticate my university affiliation (i.e. business cards and IRB approval forms) I believe that my identity as a “stranger” in these spaces made potential participants leery of participating. 3 For the purpose of writing clearly and concisely, I have used these specific racial labels to refer broadly to couples’ racial makeup. However, it is important to note that these labels do not reflect how participants of color self-identified. Because I used an open-ended racial/ethnic identity question on the demographic survey that participants completed at the time of the interview, there is considerable variation in participants’ responses. This both reflects the variation in racial/ethnic identity and the problem of using oversimplified racial/ethnic categories in the U.S. In Table 2 in Appendix A, I provide the self-identified race/ethnicity of each partner of color. 4Missing interviews stem from one White woman participant who did not introduce me to her Black partner; one Black woman participant, who did not introduce me to her White husband; one Asian woman participant, who did not introduce me to her White partner; and three Asian men participants, who did not introduce me to their White partners. 7

To make participants more comfortable with the interview process, they were given the choice of where their interview would take place. Nineteen interviews were conducted in local restaurants and cafes, twelve in participants’ homes, two in parks, two in local bars, and five on campus at the University of Cincinnati. Respondents first completed a demographic questionnaire followed by a recorded interview that lasted on average one hour and thirty minutes. Partners were interviewed separately to avoid the influence of one partners’ narrative on another, or the chance that one partners’ narrative might silence another. All respondents’ names have been changed and, in a few cases, other minor details (e.g. such as occupation, or number and age of children) have been altered to maintain anonymity.5

As with all scholarly endeavors, my identity (a White woman graduate student) shaped both my experience in the field and the data that was collected. Because most participants in this study held four-year or advanced degrees, my position as a graduate student did not create a major discrepancy in status. Instead, graduate student status and my connection to the university gave legitimacy to my position in the field. Still, to navigate educational status differences, I spoke more specifically about my “dissertation research” with participants who held advanced degrees, whereas with participants with less education, I stated that I was simply working on “a project for graduation.”

Moreover, I was also thoughtful about the presentation of my identity as a heterosexual, feminine woman interviewing partners in committed relationships. Following the lead of ethnographer Mayorga-Gallo (2014), I wore little makeup and jewelry, other than my wedding ring, and dressed in casual, but professional attire (dark denim jeans with either a light blue or

5 Only one participant was from the Middle East, therefore, I altered their country of origin to maintain their anonymity. 8 white linen collared shirt). My choice of more casual attire also helped to avoid setting an overly formal tone for the interview.

Though it is difficult to be exactly sure how my racial identity shaped the interview process and what participants were willing to share, it is important to be reflexive. Most participants stated that they talked about race and racial matters somewhat regularly as it pertained to their relationship. In addition, at the time interviews were being conducted, the broader social and political climate of 2016 was tumultuous—Donald Trump was campaigning for president and

Black Lives Matter demonstrations were happening all over the country, as well as in Cincinnati.

As a result, participants described increased conversations about race and racism within and beyond their relationship. Generally, I found that regardless of the respondents’ race, those with a greater racial awareness and vocabulary to articulate it seemed more at ease in the interview.

In my interviews with White participants, it is likely that our shared racial status diffused racial power dynamics and reduced Whites’ reluctance to talk about racial matters. For participants of color, it is possible that our racial difference made them more reluctant to divulge some information. However, the data suggest that most participants of color felt comfortable sharing their honest feelings about race and racism. For instance, one participant jokingly referred to White people as “the Whites” as he described the many instances of interpersonal racism he experienced throughout his life, as well as going through a “militant phase” in which he “hated White people.”

Still, I can never know exactly what participants may not have shared due to my White identity.

In other ways, my White identity resulted in a cultural knowledge gap, as some participants made cultural references with which I was unfamiliar. For example, when participants used words and phrases in Spanish and Tamil, I had to ask for translation. In other instances, participants referred to specific foods and spices that were unknown to me. In these instances, I admitted that I was

9 unfamiliar and asked participants if they could clarify or elaborate. This occurred with both White and non-White participants. In these instances, I made note of what I needed to research and familiarize myself with, and did so following the interview.

In addition, establishing rapport with interviewees was especially important since participants were expected to share their perspectives on racial matters and details of their intimate relationships. In contrast to conventional interview approaches, feminist scholars have argued that interviewer self-disclosure can help build rapport. Interviewer self-disclosure occurs “when the interviewer shares ideas, attitudes and/or experiences concerning matters that might relate to the interview topic in order to encourage respondents to be more forthcoming” (Reinharz and Chase

2001: 227). Early on in data collection, several participants asked me directly if I was, or had ever been in an interracial relationship. As a result, I made the decision to disclose my own interracial marriage. In doing so, I found that I was able to establish myself as an “insider” and develop trust with participants. Occasionally, some participants asked about the race of my partner and in one interview, a participant asked to see a picture. Admittedly, it was an uncomfortable experience to be on the receiving end of questions and it made me even more appreciative of my participants’ willingness to share their personal stories with me. Though discussions of my own relationship were not very frequent or extensive, disclosing my interracial marriage to a Black man undoubtedly shaped some of the data that I collected. For instance, a few participants indicated that they perceived Black-White couples as “having it worse” than other racial pairings. In addition, one Mexican-American male participant and a small number of Asian American participants referenced anti-Black sentiments in their respective communities, particularly as it relates to interracial dating. In light of these admissions, it seemed that some participants were

10 establishing rapport with me, by signaling an awareness of, and sympathy for the racism faced by

Black Americans and Black-White couples.

Furthermore, participants occasionally shared stories about their experiences as a couple and then asked about my own. Often, their stories spoke to my own experiences and I told them so when asked. For example, several participants described interactions where they were not recognized as a couple, which I too have experienced many times with my husband. In these instances, I was careful to build and maintain rapport by providing answers to their questions but tried to refrain from oversharing so as not to influence their answers to future questions. At other times, my own experiential knowledge of navigating racially homogenous spaces as an interracial couple helped me understand participants’ experiences and allowed me to ask more pointed follow-up questions. This is also encouraged participants to share information that perhaps they would not have otherwise. For instance, in her description of navigating all-White spaces with her

Black husband, Lauren explained:

Like, he’ll go in somewhere and I’ll kind of—I’m like ‘why am I doing this?’ Like I’ll want to rush over to him so people can see that I’m with him so that maybe they won’t assume—or they won’t treat him a certain way. Maybe they will treat him better. I’ve never admitted to anybody that I’ve done that before, that I’ve rushed to stand next to him.

Excerpts such as this reflect how my decision to disclose my interracial status helped develop rapport with participants by establishing myself as an insider, who could relate to their experiences.

In the paragraphs below, I discuss how I analyzed the data and provide an overview of the dissertation.

Interviews lasted about one hour and thirty minutes and were audio recorded with permission and later transcribed. To analyze the data, I used NVivo, a qualitative data analysis software, and employed a modified grounded theory approach, which involves several stages of coding, refining, and categorizing data based on themes that emerged in participants’ responses to

11 interview questions (Glaser and Strauss 1999). In the first round of coding, I used broad codes to sort and organize data. In subsequent rounds of coding, I employed a constant comparison method in which I focused on recurring words, phrases, and ideas across interview transcripts. This allowed me to generate categories and focus on emerging themes. In addition, I also wrote analytic memos throughout the data coding process. These memos summarized ideas from participants’ narratives, made note of overlap with other interview transcripts, explored connections between codes, and also helped me connect emergent themes to existing literature and broader theories

(Saldaña 2009).

Dissertation Overview

In chapter two, I explore the identity work couples engage in as they attempt to interpret the way they are read by others in interaction. In his study of Black-White couples, psychologist

Kyle Killian (2013: 69) writes that couples exhibited a sense of duality wherein they “see themselves one way” and “see the society perceiving them in another.” The author describes this as dyadic double consciousness. While this presents an interesting and useful theoretical postulation, the concept is not sufficiently grounded in theory and is conceptualized in a way that limits its empirical usefulness. Further, the evidence the author provides does little to demonstrate how dyadic double consciousness operates. Thus, I build on this work by grounding the concept in sociological theories of structural symbolic interactionism and racial formation theory. I also provide a more developed and precise definition of dyadic double consciousness that permits an examination of the work that couples do as they assess others’ perceptions in interaction. Finally,

I offer an empirical analysis of couples’ narratives to illuminate how dyadic double consciousness operates. Couples’ employment of dyadic double consciousness reveals significant internal

12 conflict in interaction, as they attempt to decipher if they are being perceived through a lens of stereotypes about race and interracial intimacy.

Chapter three investigates the racial identity work performed by White partners as they navigate interaction in non-White spaces. As dominant group members, Whites experience race as a low salience identity. In non-White settings however, they become racially marked and hypervisible, making them more conscious of their Whiteness. Using Goffman’s (1959) work on impression management, I analyze how White partners consciously think about and manage their identity in interaction in these settings. I find that Whites experience a heightened awareness of their racial identity, as well as feelings of anxiety and discomfort in non-White spaces. This is largely due to their racial difference and inability to navigate unfamiliar cultural norms, which marks them as outsiders. Thus, to manage perceptions of difference, establish a sense of belonging, and construct a “good” White identity, Whites engage in impression management behaviors centered on food, language, appearance, and body language. By examining race as an identity with associated meanings that can be manipulated in interaction—not only by people of color, but by

White individuals as well—I contribute to literature on racial identity work, which has largely overlooked Whites.

In chapter four, I shift attention from non-White settings to interactions in White settings and provide an examination of how partners identify and make sense of the interpersonal racism they encounter. Both partners of color and White partners indicate that rural areas, small towns, and suburbs are settings where they are more likely to experience racism and overt hostility.

Therefore, they avoid these areas when possible and exercise caution otherwise. In discussing the

White settings they frequent socially, the narratives of partners of color and White partners diverge.

Partners of color describe subtle forms of racism in these settings and note that this is typical of

13 their experience in White settings. White partners, on the other hand, characterize these settings as comfortable and suggest racism is not an issue. However, they contradict this as they too recall stories of more subtle forms. Thus, the focus of this chapter is on the contradictions White partners make about the existence of racism in their social worlds. Using cognitive dissonance theory as a guiding framework, I argue that White partners’ self-concept as good and nonracist is at risk due to their association with Whites who engage in racist behaviors. Thus, they engage in identity work by minimizing and rationalizing subtle and implicit forms of interpersonal racism, which allows them to maintain conceptions of other Whites, and thereby themselves, as “good” nonracist

Whites. In chapter five, I provide an overview of the findings from this study and discuss their broader implications. I also provide a discussion of this study’s limitations.

CHAPTER II

DYADIC DOUBLE CONSCIOUSNESS: HOW INTERRACIAL COUPLES ASSESS OTHERS’ PERCEPTIONS IN INTERACTION

INTRODUCTION

“We are very aware of the spaces we occupy and how people are reacting to our relationship. You know when you can feel someone is judging you? It’s sort of that.” -Abby, White partner in Black-White relationship

In “Strivings of the Negro People” W.E.B. Du Bois (1897) first wrote about “double consciousness”—a sense of two-ness experienced by Black Americans in which they both conceive of themselves in their own right, but are also able to conceive of themselves according to the racist perceptions of Whites. His concept of double-consciousness sheds light on the internal conflict experienced by Black Americans, as well as the “power of white stereotypes in Black life and thought” (Bruce Jr., 1992: 301).

In his study of Black-White couples, psychologist Kyle Killian (2013: 69) draws on Du

Bois’ concept of double consciousness to highlight “an idea of duality” that emerged in couples’ narratives in which they “see themselves one way, and they see the society perceiving them in another.” This sense of duality is conceptualized as “dyadic double consciousness.” Killian (2013:

71) concludes that “four couples’ repeated references to being ‘boring’ and ‘like any other couple’ might stem from a form of dyadic double consciousness” and represent a way for couples to resist society’s “obsessive preoccupation with racial difference.” In other words, the author surmises that couples who emphasized their similarity to same-race couples possibly do so because they recognize the broader society tends to “stereotype and problematize interracial couples” (p. 68).

Although the concept of dyadic double consciousness presents an interesting and important

15 theoretical postulation, it lacks theoretical grounding that can account for where broader societal meanings about race and interracial intimacy come from. Moreover, the analysis is brief with limited empirical evidence and the author’s conclusions do little to demonstrate the utility of a concept intended to highlight couples’ awareness of how society perceives them.

In this study, I interviewed 40 partners in White/non-White interracial relationships about where couples spend time together in their daily lives, their experiences in these settings, and how they believe they are read by others based on their interraciality. I build on dyadic double consciousness by grounding the concept theoretically and providing a working definition, followed by an empirical analysis which sheds light on how the dyadic double consciousness operates. To do so, this paper brings together theories of structural symbolic interactionism (Stryker 1980) and racial formation theory (Omi and Winant 1994). Like traditional formulations of symbolic interactionism, structural symbolic interactionism highlights the reflexive process of social interaction in which individuals are able to conceive of themselves as both subject and object. In addition, it addresses the limitations of traditional symbolic interactionism, which deemphasizes the role that social structure plays in these processes. By emphasizing the role of social structure, it illuminates how broader social categories and their associated meanings shape identities and interactional processes (i.e., the way individuals see themselves and how they believe they are read in interaction) (Callero 2003; Stryker 1980). However, structural symbolic interactionists write more generally about social structure and less so about how race, specifically, influences interaction. Thus, Omi and Winant’s (1994) foundational work on racial formation theory is especially useful for demonstrating how the content of racial categories is socially constructed, shaping racial identities and interactional processes. Moreover, it is useful for considering how meanings surrounding interracial intimacy are socially constructed. Although a full review of these

16 processes is beyond the scope of this paper, I discuss the history of antimiscegenation laws and in my analysis, expound on the construction of racial meanings and interracial intimacy as necessitated by participants’ narratives.

LITERATURE REVIEW

Structural Symbolic Interactionism and Racial Formation Theory

Early symbolic interactionists emphasize our distinct ability to see the world and ourselves from the perspective of others (Cooley 1967; Mead 1934). Although these early writings fundamentally shaped sociological understandings of the development of the self and identity, they have been critiqued for their lack of attention to the role of social structure in interactional processes. Stets and Burke (2003: 128) argue that without integrating social structure into theoretical understandings of the self and interaction, society appears to be in a constant “state of flux, with no real organization or structure.” Moreover, this implies that individuals are free to define the situation and themselves however they want. To address this oversight, Stryker (1980) developed what he calls a structural symbolic interactionist approach. This approach recognizes that social structure significantly impacts the development of the self and identity and influences interactional processes. Specifically, because we are born into a society with existing social categories and associated meanings, social structures shape the way others perceive us and the way we perceive ourselves (McCall and Simmons 1978; Stets and Burke 2000; Stryker 1980). This is reflected in Du Bois’ concept of double consciousness, in which he suggests that Black Americans see themselves one way but are also able to see themselves through the lens of a White supremacist society that has constructed Blackness in racist and stereotypical ways. Similarly, Killian (2013) describes dyadic double consciousness as “a form of double consciousness” exhibited by interracial couples who “have their own sense of who they are and what their life is really about”

17 but are “simultaneously…aware of the ways in which the society at large articulates them and their lives.” However, the author gives little attention to where these broader meanings come from. If couples are to conceive how the “society at large” perceives them, it must first be acknowledged that hegemonic racial meanings are socially constructed. As Omi and Winant (1994: 60) argue “it is not possible to represent race discursively without simultaneously locating it…in a social structural (and historical) context.” While structural symbolic interactionists emphasize the importance of social structure, they do not offer a specific treatment of how race as a social category influences interactional processes. Thus, racial formation theory picks up where structural symbolic interactionism leaves off.

Racial Formation in the United States outlines the “the sociohistorical process by which racial categories are created, inhabited, transformed, and destroyed” (Omi and Winant 1994: 55).

The authors argue that race as a modern concept was socially constructed at the outset of European colonization as colonizers used biological markers to differentiate non-Whites from White

Europeans. Racial projects, which assigned meanings to racial categories, occurred at all levels of society (Omi and Winant 1994). At the structural level, non-Whites were denied access to power and material resources through racialized policies (Lopez 2006; Omi and Winant 1994). As material resources were allocated along racial lines at the institutional level, non-Whites were depicted as inferior at the level of cultural representation (Chou 2012; Collins 2016; Jackson 2006).

Constant and pervasive images portrayed Black Americans as animalistic, strong, hypersexual, and inherently violent (Collins 2004a; Jackson 2006; Jordan-Zachery 2009). Native Americans were characterized and portrayed as barbaric, uncivilized, and savage; Mexicans as lawless and incapable of self-government; and Asians, particularly the Chinese, as heathen and immoral

(Marchetti 1993; Molina 2014). Everywhere, and by the most powerful and prominent members

18 of society, non-Whites were depicted as biologically, mentally, and morally inferior to Whites. By denying non-Whites access to societal resources, and by constructing them as inferior through powerful and far-reaching representations, Whites were able to rationalize, legitimize, and justify their political, social, and economic domination. Equally important was that racial meanings and racial ideology became hegemonic—a common sense “way of comprehending, explaining and acting in the world” (Omi & Winant 1994: 60).

Structural symbolic interactionists argue that our understanding of others’ identities are constructed out of the discourses that are culturally available for us to draw upon (Burr 1995). This point is articulated in racial formation theory, as Omi and Winant (1994: 59) posit that “racial meanings are applied to others” as we notice and “utilize race to provide clues about who a person is.” Our reliance on stereotypes to interpret others testifies “to the way a racialized social structure shapes racial experience and conditions meaning” (p. 59). Whereas racial formation suggests that we use race to interpret others, structural symbolic interactionism emphasizes the reflexive nature of social interaction and pushes us to also think about how we use to race to interpret others’ perceptions of us. By grounding dyadic double consciousness in both theories, it becomes a useful concept for examining how partners believe others perceive them on the basis of their racial identity and their interracial relationship. In this paper, I define dyadic double consciousness as a form of identity work wherein couples’ awareness of broader racial meanings and discourses about interracial intimacy is used to decipher how they are read by others in interaction.

Interracial Intimacy in the United States

Although Omi and Winant’s (1994) theory of social constructionism is useful here, the authors do not discuss in detail how integrally tied interracial mixing has been to the construction of race. A full review of this topic was surely beyond the scope of their book, as it involves a

19 complex, intersectional web of social meanings and processes that have varied tremendously over time for multiple populations. As such, it is also beyond the scope of this paper. Others who have written on the social construction of race articulate how the regulation of interracial intimacy through law, representation, and custom is inexorably linked to racialization processes (Childs

2005; Chou 2012; Ferber 1998). Thus, I provide an overview of the history of antimiscegenation laws that contributed to the social construction of interracial intimacy and throughout my analysis, flesh out additional meanings as they relate specifically to participants’ narratives.

The term “miscegenation” was not coined until the 1860s, however, laws criminalizing interracial sex and marriage between Native and Black Americans and Whites were implemented as early as the 1660s (Kennedy 2003). Justifications for antimiscegenation laws ranged from:

the supposed obligations to respect nature, to follow God’s directions, to prevent contamination of Whites, to protect the distinct (albeit lesser) character of colored peoples, and to avoid the propagation of ‘mixed breeds,’ which were thought to be sterile and otherwise inferior to ‘pure’ stocks (Kennedy 2003:19).

Though the U.S. government never enacted a federal antimiscegenation law, forty-one colonies and states passed laws regulating interracial sex and marriage between the 1660s and the 1960s

(Kennedy 2003). While Black Americans were most heavily targeted, antimiscegenation laws were expanded to prevent intimate relationships between Whites and Japanese, Filipino, and

Chinese Americans at the start of the nineteenth century (Frankenberg 1993). It was not until

Loving v. Virginia (1967) that the Supreme Court ruled antimiscegenation laws unconstitutional, ending all legal restrictions of interracial sex and marriage. Although attitudes towards interracial marriage and dating are increasingly positive and suggest wider acceptance (Gallup 2015; Wang

2012), empirical studies consistently show that couples continue to face resistance from their respective communities and the broader society (Childs 2005; Dalmage 2000; Luke and Luke

1998; McNamara et al. 1999; Steinbugler 2012). In this study, I spoke to partners in White/non-

White relationships about their experiences navigating social interaction and how they believe their interracial relationship shapes the way they are read by others. Speaking to couples directly about their perceptions of the way others’ see them illuminates how dyadic double consciousness operates.

METHODS

As discussed in the introduction, data for this study were collected from in-depth interviews with 40 partners in White/non-White heterosexual relationships. To analyze the data, I used NVivo and employed a modified grounded theory approach. In the first round of coding, I used broad codes to sort and organize data related to partners’ references to broader racial stereotypes and tropes about interracial couples, as well as instances in which they described these meanings coming into play in interaction. In subsequent rounds of coding, I employed a constant comparison method which focused on recurring ideas across interview transcripts and explored similarities and differences between partners’ narratives. In addition, I wrote analytic memos throughout the data coding process, which summarized ideas in participants’ narratives and helped me draw connections to existing theory and literature on the social construction of race and interracial intimacy.

FINDINGS Couples’ responses to questions about how they believed they were perceived by others based on their interracial relationship varied. Of the 40 partners I interviewed, six did not put me in touch with their partners for interviews, therefore, I do not include them in this analysis. Of the

17 couples in which I spoke with both partners (n=34), a little more than half demonstrated dyadic double consciousness, conceptualized in this paper as a form of identity work in which couples rely on their awareness of broader racial meanings and discourses about interracial intimacy to

21 determine how they are read by others in interaction. One of the main goals of this paper is to illuminate how dyadic double consciousness operates. Thus, I have selected six couples, or cases, of varied racial makeup whose narratives most clearly demonstrate dyadic double consciousness.

These cases are discussed in detail below.

Kabir and Alex

Kabir, who identifies as Indian, and his wife Alex, who is White, have been together for four years. As we talk about their experiences as an interracial couple, I ask Kabir if he thinks being interracially married to a White person shapes the way people perceive them. Kabir explains that when they are in the company of friends who know them well, he does not think about it often.

However, he explained that “it matters more” when “meeting strangers” because he believes that being interracial helps “people place you more quickly.” Race is one of the first things we notice in interaction and as Omi and Winant (1994) suggest, we use race to tell us who a person is. Kabir feels that by being interracial, people quickly make assumptions about them as a couple. As young professionals, Kabir explained that he and his wife are often in spaces where they are meeting new people. In these settings, how he and Alex are read is something he thinks about often: “I honestly–

I spend a lot of time, like worrying about this stuff. So much of the way that I think is based on,

‘what do people think about me?’ Like the idea that I’m an Indian man is loaded with all this stuff.”

Indicating that he believes there is interplay between how he is read as an Indian man and how people interpret the dynamics of their relationship, Kabir elaborates:

I think there are a lot of assumptions about wanting to control your wife? Sort of like backstage abuse. Stuff like that. These are things that I am seeing in my dad that I don’t want to do, but they’re also like—I think they exist out there a little bit too.

Kabir perceives that others’ make assumptions about what happens in his relationship with his partner based on broader racial and gender stereotypes about Indian men as abusive and violent.

He attributes part of this to observations he has made about his own father’s treatment of his mother, but also to stereotypes that he believes exist “out there” in society. Thus, in his assessment of interactions with others, particularly when meeting people for the first time alongside his partner, Kabir considers whether others are viewing their relationship through this lens.

Similarly, in my interview with Alex, she describes interactions with others who she said,

“express concern about me being married to an Indian guy because…‘Indian men are really controlling.’” She explained, “people tend to think weird stuff about my ability to be mobile or something. Like maybe he’s controlling me, or he’s going to be controlling.” Whereas Kabir wondered if others perceived them through this lens, Alex stated it had been openly expressed to her in interactions with others. She believed that other Whites’ concerns about Kabir being controlling or abusive stemmed from powerful images and “big stories” from “international news” that portray “brown men” from India and “Arab-Muslim” countries as violent and abusive. As

Omi and Winant (1994) note, cultural representation is a part of the processes that produce race, and the media is a powerful institution that shapes and reproduces racial meanings through representations of race (Cottle 2000). As such, Alex feels that depictions of Indian men as violent in the news explains others’ assumptions about the dynamics of her marriage to Kabir.

Outside of racial and gender stereotypes of Indian men as abusive and controlling, Kabir also felt that the spaces he and Alex occupied in relation to her occupation as an art director for a local design company influenced how they were perceived:

In some ways like, what I’m talking about is my perception of what—how we’re being read. You’re kind of like their brown husband and they don’t really know anything about you and they probably just think I’m like a [pauses]—like a way of having money or some—you know what I mean? Like—I’m not really sure what people think. I think that the most prevalent stereotype is probably this like, White girl explorer thing. You know? Like White girls want to go on an expedition [laughs]. I don’t know where that—where my perception of that comes from, you know? Like, it’s not like anyone’s really said that to me. I don’t know if it’s something that maybe like, is a stereotype that I have? You

know, like my own? [laughs] To me it feels like she looks like she’s tokenizing me, right? I’m sort of this like—[pauses]. She’s into exotic things. And like, I’m an exotic body that she can bring with her into spaces for like whatever, to look different, or something. And you have a relationship that makes you kind of—like more complex, I guess. Right? And I think that is really valuable for artists to be seen as being complex.

There is much to dissect in this excerpt. First, Kabir explicitly describes thinking consciously about how others’ read them in interaction. Second, he feels their interraciality is read in specific ways as it intersects with Alex’s occupation as an artist. He believes his presence as her “brown husband” in this specific setting suggests he is funding her art career. This possibly reflects stereotypes of Indian men in America as wealthy professionals, though Kabir does not specify more about this. Instead, his attention shifts to how he believes Alex’s Whiteness is read based on their relationship, referring to a “White girl explorer stereotype.” Kabir believes that to some, Alex appears to be interested in exploring other cultures through her intimate relationship with an Indian man. In her analysis of early European colonizers’ travelogues, Nagel (2003: 14) writes of

“‘ethnosexual adventurers’ who undertake expeditions across ethnic divides for recreational, casual, or ‘exotic’ sexual encounters.” Others who have written on the topic of sex tourism describe

White women who live out racialized sexual fantasies with black and brown men while vacationing abroad (Davidson and Taylor 1999).

Although Kabir states that he cannot tie this perception to any tangible experiences, there is certainly a broader reality linked to this stereotype. Omi and Winant (1994: 60) point out that because we are socialized “in a comprehensively racialized” society, we often learn and internalize racial meanings “without obvious teachings or conscious inculcation.” This is further evident as

Kabir ponders aloud whether the “White girl explorer” stereotype is one he himself holds and is projecting onto others’ perceptions of them. Finally, Kabir suggests that because it is important for artists to establish themselves as unique and interesting people, Alex may be read as using him to

24 make herself seem more “complex.” In “Eating the Other” hooks (1992: 366) writes that “ethnicity becomes spice, seasoning that can liven up the dull dish that is mainstream white culture.” Kabir’s statements that Alex “looks like she’s tokenizing him,” indicate that he fears others perceive Alex as “using” his racial and ethnic identity to make her Whiteness more complex and interesting in a way that benefits her career. Although Alex did not specifically mention this perception of her,

Kabir conveyed that this stereotype was something Alex too was aware of and that they had discussed it openly. “I think that is like a major issue. That’s something that we like, that she’s expressed to me is that insecurity of like, ‘Are people—do people not get that I really love you?

And that like, this isn’t about just having like, some extra piece of brown luggage?’ [laughs]”

James and Lauren

James, 46, and Lauren, 42, are a middle class, well-educated Black and White couple, who have been together for ten years. In talking with James about others’ perceptions of them as a couple, James stated, “Well I mean the stigma base will be there because to be quite honest that's opening knowledge. You know, I play with that stuff in my head. I'm always aware of it and it's always more than just ‘there's a couple.’” James notes that due to socialization in a racialized society, it is impossible for others to interact with him and his wife without noticing and making some assumption based on their interracial status. Further, James indicates that this is something he thinks about often—analyzing various formulations others might make of them as a couple in interaction. In their interviews, both Lauren and James stated that sexual stereotypes about Black and White couples might lead others to assume their relationship is sexually motivated. Lauren explained:

You know, that whole ‘once you go Black, you never go back,’ kind of thing. The whole stereotype with Black men and big penises and just being good in bed I guess or whatever [laughs]. I don’t know where that comes from actually, but there’s probably some historical context to that.

Lauren also indicated that others had referenced or “insinuated” these stereotypes about her husband. Although she was unaware of the details of the historical construction of Black men as hypersexual, James was very clear about the origin of these stereotypes: “Well, from the historical standpoint you get, you know, going way back to slavery, you know the fears about Black men and heightened sexuality. And you know, the question of stealing White virtue and all that stuff.”

After the Civil War and Reconstruction, Whites’ fear of interracial mixing between Black men and

White women grew as race relations changed, particularly in the South (Ferber 1998). Racist discourses constructed Black masculinity as animalistic and hypersexual, in contrast to White femininity, which was constructed as innocent, pure, and in need of protection. Consequently, stereotypes of Black men as hypersexual were used to justify extreme forms of White violence and the continued subjugation of Black Americans. As Kennedy (2003: 14) notes, these images and ideas “contributed to racial folklore that is still in existence, still growing, and still remarkable in its reach.”

Although both James and Lauren acknowledged sexual stereotypes, assumptions about the class dynamics of their relationship were also particularly salient, especially for Lauren. James stated, “when we go into an affluent space, the expectation is like she’s bringing me into it. Right?

Like she’s giving me culture.” In these affluent White spaces, James feels that others must assume

Lauren is bringing him to the setting due to associations of Blackness with poverty. Lauren elaborated on this as she discussed stereotypes of Black men pursuing White women to achieve upward mobility and status. She explained “There’s a certain level of assumption that the White girl’s just there to fill a role for the—you know, just to make the Black guy more mainstream or— it’s like a class thing. If you get a White girl, or something, it says something about you as a Black

26 man. It’s like—and I think—my husband and I have talked about that, that you’re kind of like on a different class.” Lauren described how these broader stereotypes about Black men with White women shaped how she imagined others’ perceptions of them in interaction:

Like in situations where, um, yeah—and it’s funny because we’ve—Like, I’m the breadwinner cause he has a nonprofit and he’s still building it and he’s always kind of been a freelancer. So like, when we go to apply for like a car loan together, I’m the one who usually has to do it because I have the salary. But I’ve often wondered if that’s like a— what people must think. Like, ‘Oh. She’s buying that Black dude a car.’

Interestingly, at the same time that some situations evoked these feelings, Lauren also stated that she felt others might perceive them as lower class and less educated:

The assumption that both are maybe lower class. Like James always said, when people see him, the assumption is not that he has an Ivy League college degree or that he is you know, as smart as he is. It’s just not an assumption that people make. I’ve wondered if people assumed that we’re not as educated as we are. Um, you know, that he went to an Ivy League college and I have a master’s degree and I think people might not assume that. They might assume that we’re lower class. And that’s just my own bias. I don’t even know if that’s true, but that’s kind of what I wonder if people assume. That’s often what I assume the assumption to be when people first—I mean as soon as they meet us and talk to us, they know—they must assume that’s not the case. But it’s almost like you’re always trying to prove that wrong. I’m always kind of like ‘Hm. I wonder if now that they’ve talked to us they’re like, ‘Oh, they’re—they’re not—.”

In early America, intimacy between White women and Black men was forbidden as a means of creating and maintaining clear racial boundaries. Whereas the production of mixed race children between White slaves owners and enslaved Black women contributed to the slave economy, mixed race children born to White women did not (Ferber 1998). Thus, White women were punished, derided, and outcast. Over time, White women who engage in interracial intimacy with Black men have been constructed as “aberrant, misguided white trash” (Dalmage 2005: 47). Although Lauren perceives that others may read them through this lens in interaction, she is also hopeful that their middle class performance may guard against these assumptions.

Robin and Michael

Michael, who identifies as Vietnamese, and his partner Robin, have been together for five years. As Michael and I sit in the dining room of their home, we discuss how they met, where they spend time together, and what their experiences are in various settings. Michael explained that he often senses others’ formulating ideas about him and his marriage to Robin. Like the opening vignette from Abby at the start of this paper, he explained, “I think it’s just more like feeling that you’re being judged or like feeling—and again whether it’s true or not, who really knows.”

Participants repeatedly described sensing silences, awkwardness, or tension and indicated they felt these were responses to their interracial relationship that left them wondering what others were thinking. When I asked him if he had a sense of what those formulations about their relationship would be, Michael stated:

People probably just think I make a lot of money. It’s mainly I think that—‘what scenario would actually put them in contact with each other?’ Like I didn’t do her nails and suddenly she liked me. Or I didn’t like, just cook her food and then she actually—or we didn’t run into one another at a bar by chance, right? Like why would an Asian guy just walk across the bar and say, ‘What’s up’ to somebody. I think that would be the perception, what they think.

Michael articulates several ideas here. First, like Kabir and unlike James, Michael assumes that others perceive him as having money. Whereas Kabir did not specify the reasoning behind why he believes others might assume he is wealthy and James indicates others’ assume he is lower class because he is Black, Michael indicates here (and expounds later) that he believes his having money would be logically assumed as the way he was able to attract a White woman—who would otherwise be uninterested in an Asian man. Second, he implies that high levels of racial spatial and social segregation make it unlikely for Asian Americans and Whites to cross paths, unless it were under very stereotypical circumstances, which Michael lists half-jokingly. Finally, Michael

28 implies that no one would expect an Asian man to “just walk across the bar” and approach a woman and be successful.

In all of these ways, Michael draws on broader stereotypes of Asian Americans and Asian masculinity. Early constructions of Asian American men originated when immigrants were recruited for exploitable labor in the U.S. At that time, Asian men, particularly the Chinese were depicted in similar ways as Black men—violent, hypersexual, lustful for White women and a threat to their supposed purity (Chou 2012). At the same time, laws were implemented to prevent the entry of Chinese women and children into the U.S. leading to “bachelor communities” and images of Chinese men as asexual. Into the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, Asian immigrants’ involvement in feminine labor contributed to the emasculation of Asian men and this was furthered through cultural representations in the media (Chou 1994). In my interview with Robin, she discussed how these broader stereotypes shape interaction:

It’s very rare that people understand that we’re together. So this becomes a source of stress um, because (pause). It’s very specifically offensive for Michael cause he’s like, ‘Yeah I’m Asian and you think in your imagination that I’m some small dick emasculated Asian guy and I can’t have a White girlfriend or a White partner.’

Throughout her interview, Robin recalled several instances where she and her husband are not recognized as being together. This was attributed to their interraciality. Robin finds this hurtful, but also stressful because of the emotional response it evokes from Michael. Michael echoed

Robin’s description of these kinds of interactions during his interview. Like others, he explained that he could not recall explicit remarks, but described interactions that drove him to this conclusion:

I don’t think people like say—I can’t remember like outright if someone says anything, but we’ve had encounters where uh, you know, other guys come up and just like start talking to Robin like I wasn’t standing there. It happens from time to time as far as like, you know, most of them [think]—‘They’re probably friends,’ or ‘He’s like her math tutor or something.’ [laughs]

For Michael and Robin, others’ failure to recognize them as a couple is attributed to broader perceptions of Asian men as nerdy and emasculate. This was especially salient for Michael. In some cases this created tension between them when Michael would become hostile or aggressive towards others as a way to assert his masculinity. This made Robin uncomfortable, attributing to why she described these experiences as “stressful.”

Haley and Luke

I meet Luke for our interview at a local coffee shop near campus. He has a slender build, a buzzed haircut and is wearing a cut off t-shirt, exposing several tattoos up and down his arms. I immediately notice his septum piercing—a small silver hoop dangling from his nose just above a wiry, black goatee. I will learn in our interview how Luke’s appearance is intricately tied to his racial identity, as well as how he and his partner, Haley, believe their relationship is read by others.

Luke describes growing up in a fifth-generation Chinese American family in a California gated community that was predominately White until he was about 9 years old. Up until then, Luke stated that he felt indistinguishable from his White peers. However, after an influx of Korean immigrants to the area he recalled becoming acutely aware of and internalizing racist stereotypes about more recent Asian immigrants as foreign and nerdy (Nemoto 2009). Luke explains:

Just like forgetting that I’m Asian and being like ‘This is somebody who’s different.’ And I didn’t feel that different from like White kids. It’s weird cause it’s like you’re torn. White kids I hung out with would be like ‘Yeah those F.O.B. kids over there,’ and for a while there was a time where I was like ‘Yeah like those F.O.B.’s. Those losers. Those guys suck.’ I always was like ‘Oh man, these immigrant kids. They make me look bad because I’m like Americanized. I’m not like them but I’m being kind of lumped in with them.

According to Luke, “these immigrant kids” who were “F.O.B.” (fresh off the boat) were easily identifiable based on their appearance and style of dress. As a result, even as an adult Luke said he finds himself wondering if others view him in these stereotypical ways. When I ask Luke how

30 having a White partner might impact the way he is perceived Luke sighs and describes how growing up he would notice a “a cool Asian guy…dating a tall, pretty girl. Not Asian. Like a White girl” and that his response was always “Nice. Like, cool. I always thought like ‘awesome,’ like,

‘you’re doing it.’” He attributed this response to the fact that Asian men are not seen as masculine or heroic. During our interview, Luke points to the power of popular culture to “reinforce hegemonic narratives of race and gender” as it relates to Asian masculinity (Nemoto, 2009: 22), naming several movies and television shows where Asian men are “not painted as the most masculine.” Instead, they are the “side-kick dorky character” and often have a “horrible Asian accent.” For Luke, an Asian man dating an attractive White woman signaled an achievement of masculinity often denied to Asian men based on intersecting constructions of race, gender, and sexuality. This finding is supported by the work of Nemoto (2009) in her study of Asian

American/White couples in which she argues that middle-class, second generation Asian

American men seek to access masculinity through their relationships with White women.

Immediately following my interview with Luke, I meet with his partner, Haley. When I asked how she felt she and Luke were perceived by others, Haley explained that “based on interactions or like reactions” she felt others perceived them as an “edgy,” “cool,” and “interesting” couple. She attributed this to both their interraciality, as well her “artsy” attire and Luke’s physical appearance:

When I started dating him and I would tell people his name…I remember people being like, ‘Oh. You’re dating an Asian guy?’ Like I remember that kind of reaction. And then once people met him they were like ‘Oh! He’s like a cool Asian guy.’ And I think he’s aware of that in some ways because sometimes when we see other Asian guys that look like him he’ll be like ‘Is that what I look like? Do I look like that Asian guy?’ Cause he’s aware of the fact that people think Asian people are nerdy or foreign or something. I think he doesn’t want people to assume that he’s foreign or like from—‘fresh off the boat’ kind of Asian person. So he’ll see people that also look like more Americanized or more cool and he’s like, ‘Do I look like that guy?’

Based on her interactions with others prior to their meeting Luke, Haley felt that others wondered why she would date an Asian man based on stereotypes of Asian men as emasculated, foreign, and nerdy. However, she notes surprise in others’ reactions after they meet Luke, which she described as “shitty.” She further stated that she believed Luke having a White partner “helps people understand that he is like more Americanized. Like off the bat.” Haley believes that because others would not expect a White woman to date a more recently immigrated Asian American, her presence marks him as more Americanized. In sum, for Luke and Haley, Luke’s embodied appearance defied stereotypes of Asian masculinity, as did his relationship with a White woman.

Brian and Colleen

Brian and Colleen are a young married couple, who recently graduated from the university where they met. Originally from Nepal, Colleen lived in several other countries before coming to the U.S. for higher education. At the time of our interview, Colleen and Brian had already overcome several immigration obstacles that nearly ended with Colleen having to leave the U.S.

However, they were nearing the end of a long process and preparing for their marriage green card interviews with officials from U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services. In my interview with

Colleen, she expressed that it was “strange being questioned” by immigration officials about the authenticity of their relationship, but that she did not “blame them” after learning that “there is a whole industry” where others “look for White people to marry for a green card.” Further, Colleen noted that her relationship to Brian tuned her awareness to Asian women dating White men and the realization that “there is a lot of them,” which she explained she knew “for a fact” was partly due to “Filipinos” and “Thai people…usually women, who go out of their way to find White men” because the cultures they live in are “poverty stricken” and restrictive of women’s rights. By seeking out marriage to American White men, Colleen stated that these women can access more

“freedom” and “financial stability.” In the excerpt below, Colleen states that she feels people make this assumption about her interracial marriage to Brian:

I think I had my assumptions about other interracial—like specifically just Asian girls and White guys. Like I assumed they’re more Asian and that they’re going for the White guy cause like in Asian culture, White guys are seen as like a really good, safe bet. So I just assumed that they got lucky. ‘They got a White guy. Good for them!’ [sarcasm] I don’t know. And then I realized, ‘That’s me. Do people think of me that way?’ I’ve never heard someone say anything about it but it’s something that’s crossed my mind so I’m assuming that it’s something that people have thought when they see us.

As others in this study stated, Colleen recognizes her own internalized stereotypes about Asian women and White men couples and realizes that others may perceive her relationship with Brian in the same way. Brian echoed Colleen’s statements about these stereotypes being applied to their relationship, saying “It’s like a thing where White guys, they’re kind of seen as being more like, stable and more like, I guess you know, economically successful…Um, so I feel like you know, a lot of that’s something that people assume.”

Beyond immigration related assumptions, both Colleen and Brian also discussed concerns about how their relationship was read as sexually motivated. Popular culture images often portray

Asian women as submissive, sexually subservient, and seductive (Chou 2012; Nemoto 2009).

These tropes have a long history both within and outside of the U.S. and are connected to a violent and exploitative history. For instance, Nemoto (2009: 22) writes:

During the Vietnam War, Asian women, not only from Vietnam but also from Thailand and Cambodia, were supplied to American military bases; further, the U.S. military and the World Bank promoted and supported sex industries and sex tourism as a means of the developing the economy of Thailand during the Vietnam War. During this era, images of Asian women as sex objects became widely popular, and the industry that still supplies Asian brides today began to become prosperous in the United States.

Whereas many participants stated that no one had explicitly expressed stereotypes about their relationships, Colleen stated that when she first told her parents back home that she was seeing

33 someone, “They were like, ‘Are you sure it’s not just cause you’re foreign?’” Colleen laughed, saying that she thought “they were paranoid” that Brian may be interested in her because he thinks she is “exotic” and that they had “seen too many movies.” Still, Colleen’s description of her parents as paranoid was not for lack of awareness that these stereotypes exist about Asian women. During our interview, she recalled repeated incidents of street harassment from men who made “gross” sexual comments to her and called her “China doll” and “Chinese girl.” However, she felt that these stereotypes were not at play in her relationship and thus, her parents’ concerns were unwarranted.

Brian also discussed how his friendships with Asian men and women through college, and

Colleen’s repeated experiences with sexual harassment, had made him aware of broader stereotypes about White men who fetishize and pursue Asian women because they see them as sexual objects. As a result, he recognized that others may perceive this of his marriage to Colleen:

I don’t want to say like an Asia—Asianphile, you know, or whatever. An Orientalist or whatever, but uh, I guess because I have my Asian friends I was kind of exposed to that [stereotype]. That like, you know, you have yellow fever or whatever, that I was really into anime or something…But I don’t really worry about it. I think Colleen’s more worried about appearances and um, she’s obviously, because she’s the minority in the relationship, she has a totally different experience than me. Especially when we’re separated. That’s been the most jarring thing for me is that you don’t realize the prejudices [that] exist and like the discrimination, the racism [that] exists because I’m a White guy. I’m privileged enough that I’ve never had to experience that.

Brian recognizes that others’ may assume he is an “Asianphile” or “an Orientalist,” but states that he does not “really worry about it.” However, he does show concern for the treatment Colleen is subjected to based on these stereotypes and recognizes that his privileged position as a White male allows him to be dismissive of others’ assumptions about him.

Ashley and Sam

Sam, who identifies as Mexican American, and his partner Ashley have been together for eight years. I meet Sam one late afternoon at a local bar in the couples’ neighborhood. When I ask

Sam about how he believes others perceive him and his relationship with Ashley, he hesitates.

Although Sam has given it thought, he explains that he feels unsure. He notes that he and Ashley spend time in the same places with the same people indicating, like others, that perceptions of how they are being read are strongest when interacting with strangers, which he states does not happen often. Still, Sam does describe that through his experience working with recent migrants from

Mexico, there is a sense among some in the Latino community that dating a White woman is seen as a “triumph” that provides access to status and the potential for citizenship. Sam explains:

It’s like [laughs] ah man. It’s pretty crude, but it’s like, you know, ‘You got yourself a White woman?’ And I’m like, ‘Dude, she’s—’ [short laugh]. I mean [sighs]. It—it’s all about like, you know, getting immigration papers and I’m like, ‘I don’t have to! I was born here!’

Sam finds that this perception of his relationship with Ashley exists in spite of the fact that he is

U.S. born American citizen. Sam stated that some members of the Latino community see dating a

White woman as “a status” which he believes is because they see “White culture as having a foothold in the States.” Therefore, dating a White woman is a way of “getting a leg up” and “getting into that next tier of privilege.” Sam does not mean to suggest that Latinos are able to access privileges associated with White skin, but rather, that a White partner signals an attainment of status. Sam is quick to point out that he does not think all Latinos feel this way, but that “a lot of recent migrants are all about—the stereotype…of trying to get the green card or getting married into a U.S. citizen.” Sam described how learning of these perceptions through his work in the migrant community manifested in an interaction he had at a party when he met another man who was also Mexican:

[laughs] I usually don’t’ joke about this. I got really drunk one time. This is like when we first started dating and there was this other Mexican guy at this party—and I feel so ashamed for it—and we were talking and I’m like ‘Ah! You’re Mexican! I’m Mexican!’ And I said, ‘This is Ashley, my girlfriend,’ and he was like, looked at her as—not as [pause] a person, but as like a, I don’t know, as a status thing? I didn’t really catch it. And Ashley told me later on [he said] like, ‘this is your White woman.’ And I’m like ‘Holy shit! She is White and [pause] I’m with her.’ [short laugh] Um, yeah, I feel pretty bad about that. Cause I was totally [pauses] fitting that stereotype of the Mexican getting a White lady. I don’t know. [laughs]

After having this experience, Sam describes coming to a realization that others see his relationship with Ashley through this stereotypical lens and he feels “bad” that it may appear he is dating

Ashley to acquire status associated with Whiteness.

During my interview with Ashley, she noted that friends occasionally made racial jokes about Sam using her to get a green card—again, despite that he was born in the U.S. However, this was not an assumption that Ashley felt followed them into interactions with strangers. Ashley and

Sam present an interesting case, because while both had given thought to how they were perceived by others, they indicated that there was a lack of salient stereotypes about Mexican men and White women. Ashley indicated that she had given others’ perceptions of their relationship considerable thought but was unable to decipher how they are read in interaction for two main reasons. First, she felt that because a White woman dating a Mexican man was rarer—at least in Cincinnati, Ohio where the Hispanic/Latino population is only 2.8% (United States Census Bureau 2010)—there were less salient stereotypes for her to draw on to assess how others might perceive them as a couple. Second, she felt that Sam’s physical appearance made him racially ambiguous, making it harder for others to determine their racial makeup. Indeed, Ashley recalled being called a “nigger lover” at a liquor store while shopping with Sam. In another instance, Sam was called a “fucking terrorist” at a gas station where they had stopped to buy ice cream. Based on interactions like these,

Ashley concluded that “the stereotype most people have in their heads of what a Mexican man

36 looks like” does not match up with Sam’s “huge beard” and “long curly hair.” Consequently, she deduced that because people are unable to read his racial identity, they must also struggle to apply meanings to them as an interracial couple, making it hard for her to determine how they are perceived by others.

DISCUSSION

The goals of this chapter have been to: 1) establish a theoretical grounding for the concept of dyadic double consciousness; 2) develop a working definition; and 3) provide an empirical analysis that sheds light on how dyadic double consciousness operates. Killian (2013: 69) loosely defines dyadic double consciousness as “an idea of duality” wherein “couples see themselves one way, and they see the society perceiving them in another.” However, the concept lacks serious theoretical grounding. As Omi and Winant (1994) point out, it is impossible to talk about how race influences interactional processes without first establishing race as a social structure that has been created via sociohistorical processes. To ground dyadic double consciousness in sociological theory, I outlined both structural symbolic interactionism and racial formation theory. Structural symbolic interactionism emphasizes the significance of social structures—like race—in interaction but does not specify these processes. Thus, I provided an overview of racial formation theory which explicates the social construction of race and how it shapes interaction. However, racial formation theory emphasizes the way we use race to interpret others but does not consider the reflexive nature of interaction. Structural symbolic interactionism makes up for this shortcoming by emphasizing individual’s capacity to think of themselves as both subject and object, which clarifies how individuals can also use race to assess how others view them. Together, these theories provide a theoretical grounding for the concept of dyadic double consciousness.

To address the second goal of this paper, I provided a working definition of dyadic double consciousness. Killian’s (2013) conclusion that four Black/White couples’ dyadic double consciousness lead them to describe themselves as “boring” or the “same” as same race couples is disconnected from a concept intended to highlight couples’ awareness of how they are read by others in interaction As DuBois described in his writings of the double consciousness, the consciousness implies Black Americans awareness of how they are perceived by Whites through a lens rooted in racist constructions of Blackness. Thus, in this study I conceptualized dyadic double consciousness as a form of identity work that involves couples’ awareness and use of racial meanings and discourses about interracial couples to decipher how they are perceived by others in interaction.

The third goal of this paper was to provide an empirical analysis that demonstrates how dyadic double consciousness operates. Of the 17 couples in which I spoke with both partners

(n=34), a little more than half demonstrated an awareness of broader racial meanings and discourses about interracial intimacy and used this awareness to assess how they were read by others in interaction. To illuminate these processes, I provided an in-depth analysis of narratives from six couples. Findings reveal that couples are entangled in a complex interlocking web of socially constructed meanings of race, sexuality, and gender and that they consciously think about this as they interact with others. In some cases, participants explicitly talked about the intersection of class as well, and a few participants considered how the context in which interactions took place may shift the way others read them. Moreover, in a small number of cases, couples discussed how the embodiment of race mattered for how they believed others perceived them. Specifically in the case of Luke and Haley, both felt Luke’s physical appearance, which included visible tattoos and a septum piercing, shaped the way others read them as a couple. For Sam and Ashley, Ashley

38 indicated that it was hard to assess how they were read by others because she felt they could not accurately assess Sam’s identity, and therefore could not determine what meanings to apply to their relationship.

In addition, several factors shaped the strength of participants’ dyadic double consciousness. Many referenced the salience and proliferation of socially constructed meanings, for instance by pointing to representations in the media. In a few cases, participants demonstrated thorough knowledge of racial history in the U.S. which they used to interpret how they are read in interaction. In addition, couples noted that dyadic double consciousness is strongest when interacting with strangers—a time when unfamiliar others are attempting to quickly gather and assess information about them.

Participants repeated that they were unsure if these assessments were actually taking place.

Symbolic interactionist, Charles Cooley (1970) notes that individual’s assessments of the judgments of others are subjective and it is not whether others are actually making judgements that matters, but rather how we imagine those processes to be happening. Moreover, in many cases, participants pointed out that they could not recall explicit comments being made, that they could not locate where these perceptions were coming from, which speaks to the power of a

“comprehensively racialized social structure” (Omi and Winant 1994: 60). Participants also recognized that their assessments of others’ perceptions may be reflective of their own biases— their own internalization of racial meanings that they were projecting onto others. However, as some thoughtfully pointed out, if they had internalized these meanings and interpreted others through this lens, then was it not likely that others did the same when interacting with them?

CHAPTER III

“I WAS TRYING TO KIND OF FIT IN”: WHITE INTERRACIAL PARTNERS’ IMPRESSION MANAGEMENT IN NON-WHITE SETTINGS”

INTRODUCTION

In a racialized society like that of the U.S., race is simultaneously a status that is imposed at birth and one that is negotiated and accomplished in interaction. Identity work refers to “the range of activities individuals engage in to create, present, and sustain” conceptions of who they are (Snow and Anderson 1987: 14). The literature on racial-ethnic identity work is profuse and fragmented as scholars across disciplines use a number of terms to describe similar processes. For instance, racial identity work (Khanna and Johnson 2010), ethnic and racial identity enactment

(Cross Jr., Seaton, Yip, Lee, Rivas, Gee, Wroth, and Ngo, 2017), working identity (Carbado and

Gulati 2013), race work (King-O’Riain 2006) and racial identity-based impression management

(Roberts 2005), among others, have been used to discuss the influence of racial-ethnic identities on interactional processes. A unifying theme of this body of literature is that it is rooted in symbolic interactionism and emphasizes how social actors understand and deploy racial-ethnic meanings as they navigate social interaction. These studies also highlight the importance of context by illuminating how racial meanings shift across time and space and demonstrating how social actors must negotiate their racial-ethnic identities differently as they move across social contexts and engage with different audiences.

Despite these valuable contributions, an overwhelming majority of this literature focuses on the experiences of people of color and multiracial individuals, who live between racial-ethnic boundaries. There is significantly less work that examines how White individuals consciously manage their racial-ethnic identity in interaction, particularly in non-White spaces. As dominant

40 group members, Whites experience race as a low salience identity. However, studies find that

Whites experience increased racial salience when in non-White spaces, which can cause discomfort (Doane 2014) but can also lead them to assess and analyze the racial dynamics of social interaction (Steinbugler 2012).

To examine how White individual’s think about and consciously manage their racial-ethnic identities, I interviewed 18 White individuals as a part of a larger study on White/non-White interracial couples (n=40). In a highly racially segregated society, interracial couples often move between racially homogenous spaces wherein either partner is the only member of their race.

Unlike most White Americans who live in racial isolation, the White individuals in this study spent time in non-White spaces as the result of their interracial relationship. This study provides important insights into the ways White individuals consciously think about and manage their identity in non-White spaces. White participants describe experiencing a heightened awareness of their Whiteness and subsequent apprehension in non-White spaces. As a result, they described engaging in impression management strategies to dilute difference, “fit in,” and establish a sense of belonging in non-White spaces. The impression management strategies Whites engaged in centered around language, food, appearance, and body language.

LITERATURE REVIEW

“All individuals possess a combination of identity attributes that define who they are. Some attributes are socially salient and perceived as highly relevant, while others are socially taken-for- granted, treated as generic and typically ignored as relevant to who one is” (Brekhus, 2003: 13).

Race in the U.S. is an attribute that marks everyone and carries social meaning for how we think about ourselves and others and influences the way we interact with one another. In other words, racial and ethnic identities (among other contextual variables) shape social actors’ definition of the

41 situation and guide social action. Thus, “doing race is unavoidable” as society’s “existing racial schemas, understandings, and rules of interaction fundamentally shape and constrain” our behavior and interpretation of others in interaction (Lewis, 2004: 629). Moreover, the meanings attached to racial-ethnic identities shift over time and space, requiring social actors to assess contextual factors and adjust their performances accordingly. Social actors may decide for instance it is in their best interest to downplay, rather than emphasize their racial-ethnic identity in a given situation, and vice versa (Okamura 1981). The theoretical writings of Goffman (1959) are especially useful for thinking about the choices social actors make as they navigate race and racial meanings in everyday life. Goffman wrote extensively about impression management—a specific form of identity work that emphasizes the ways we express, manage, and regulate the self in interaction to give others a particular impression of ourselves. He argues that while actors may be labeled based on their conduct, appearance, speech, and other characteristics, they are able to manage their impressions and convey whom they are (or how they want to be perceived) using the setting, appearance, and the manner in which they play their role. Although the structure of race certainly limits the choices of racialized social actors, all maintain some degree of autonomy in the way each actor chooses to play their role.

These theoretical insights are particularly evident in empirical studies that examine the ways people of color negotiate racial-ethnic identities in interaction. For instance, through an examination of the “malleability and performability” of race “and how it is defined by both subject and situation,” Willie (2003: 5) explores how Black college alum describe treating race “as sets of behaviors that they could choose to act out” and “the ways they consciously acted White in certain settings and acted Black in others…” Similarly, Carbado & Gulati (2013) argue that in order for

Blacks to successfully navigate White institutions, they often engage a “working identity” by

42 strategically using racial cues to signal a Blackness that is palatable to Whites—one that is Black, but not too Black. Reminiscent of the double consciousness Du Bois first wrote about in 1897, the authors argue that Black individuals see themselves through the eyes of others. Consequently, respondents’ report regulating others’ perceptions through the manipulation of racial cues related to appearance, speech, social and political affiliations, and other racial signifiers. This practice of shifting between racial-ethnic markers is often referred to as codeswitching. Though codeswitching originally referred to the linguistic adaptations made by bilingual speakers (Poplack

1981), codeswitching has come to encompass not only linguistic, but behavioral adaptations as well.

In addition to studies on monoracial people of color, there is an abundance of literature on the performative nature of race and the experiences of multiracial individuals. These studies are especially useful for thinking about how phenotype influences racial meanings and audience perceptions, and how individuals who occupy multiple racial-ethnic categories enact different identities as they traverse racial boundaries (Rockquemore and Brunsma 2008). For instance,

DaCosta (2007: 134) describes the efforts of multiracials to “walk the walk and talk the talk” in order to signal authentic membership and make legitimate claims to racial-ethnic groups. At times, this involved “wearing certain hairstyles, emphasizing brownness, adorning walls with nationalistic posters” and following other “rules of the ethnic game.” Similarly, in “Tricking the

Border Guards,” (Mahtani 2002) writes that mixed-race women described enacting different racial-ethnic identities to prove their ethnicity, negotiate changing racial codes across space, and to disrupt racial discourses and challenge stereotypes. Across studies on multiracial identity, scholars find that multiracial individuals recognize and adapt to changing racial meanings across space. Respondents often emphasize “their ability to adapt to the cultural norms or demands of the

43 situation” (Miville, Constantine, Baysden, & So-Lloyd, 2005: 512). However, this does not mean that racialized social actors act without constraints. For instance, Romo (2011) examined how self- identified “Blaxicans”—individuals of Black and Mexican ancestry—navigate racial-ethnic identity across contexts in which peers pressure them to identify as either Black, or Mexican, but not both. In these contexts, Blaxican participants describe being restricted to “a particular standard of appearance and behaviors” (Romo, 2011: 409). Both Mexican and Black peer groups used skin color, hair texture, Spanish language fluency, and a “presentation of values and behavior oriented around hip-hop culture” as measurements of racial authenticity (Romo, 2011: 419). Thus, in interaction, racial identities are “situational and impressions need to be managed differently from context to context” (King-O’Riain 2006: 35). At the same, performances of racial-ethnic identity are constrained because they occur within systems of power, ideas, and institutions and are often patrolled by other social actors (King-O’Riain 2006; Mahtani 2002). These studies effectively highlight both the agency of actors, as well as the constraints imposed by a racialized system on the performance and management of racial identities in interaction.

What About Whites? As Lewis (2004: 626) points out, “in a racialized social system all actors are racialized, including Whites. Because all social actors are racialized, at some level they must live and perform or ‘do race.’” Initially, race scholars did not study White racial identity, furthering the normality and invisibility of Whiteness. In more recent decades though, scholars have begun to critically examine Whiteness as both a structural system of dominance, and a racial and cultural identity that is performed in interaction. “Whiteness, while a systemic historical process that is diffuse and abstract, is also located through embodiment” (Warren, 2001: 92). However, early Whiteness studies struggled to map the contours of White identity, as many Whites claim not to experience

44 race, lack a sense of racial awareness, and/or do not consider themselves a part of a racialized social group (Lewis 2004). One of the first studies to challenge the notion that racial consciousness is exclusively experienced by people of color was conducted by Ruth Frankenberg (1993). Though most of the White women in her study lacked a racial awareness, Frankenberg found that several women with partners of color had developed a racial consciousness through what she terms

“rebound racism”—having witnessed and experienced secondhand the pain caused to their partners by racism. Similarly, Twine & Steinbugler (2006: 342) find that “interracial relationships can be sites of sociopolitical knowledge and catalysts for transformations in racial consciousness that may catapult White members of interracial couples toward a more nuanced analysis of race and Whiteness.”

Although these studies demonstrate that Whites are capable of developing a racial awareness and how these developments occur, studies on White identity stop short of examining how Whites manage their identities in interaction. Picca & Feagin (2007) partially address this gap with their study of Whites’ socially situated racial performances. They describe racial performance as “the activity of a White person at a particular place and time, and attempts to communicate racial views and images to others” (Picca & Feagin, 2007: 4). In this study, the authors examine

Whites’ use of racial language, as well as their nonverbal signals, “such as gestures, winks and other eye movements, head shakes and nods, and furtive or signaling looks” to convey racial ideas

(Picca & Feagin, 2007: 7). While this study provides insight into how Whites perform race, it does so through an examination of racial performances in White, or mostly White spaces, and focuses on Whites’ communication of racist discourses.

This study contributes to prior work on racial identity by examining race as an embodied identity with associated meanings that can be manipulated in interaction, not only by people of

45 color, but by White individuals as well. “Part of the privilege associated with Whiteness is, in fact, the ability not to think about race at all, not to take any notice whatsoever of its role in daily life”

(Lewis, 2004: 641). Thus, by examining White partners experiences in non-White spaces, I examine what happens when Whites become racially marked. Brekus (2003) describes how the dominant patterns of markedness can be reversed in subcultural contexts. As dominant group members, Whites experience their racial identity as unmarked and taken-for-granted. However, their identity becomes marked in non-White spaces wherein Whites are a numerical minority

(Hartigan Jr. 1997). Consequently, Whites in non-Whites spaces are more likely to experience increased racial awareness and think more consciously about the management of their racial identity. In this chapter, I explore Whites’ experiences of heightened racial self-awareness, and the conscious efforts they make to manage their identities as they navigate interaction in non-White spaces.

METHODS Data for this study were gathered from semi-structured in-depth interviews and demographic questionnaires with 40 members of White/non-White heterosexual relationships. In this chapter, which examines how White partners in interracial relationships consciously think about and manage their identity in non-White spaces, I provide an analysis of a subset of this data collected from interviews with five White men and thirteen White women partners. I also include data from interviews with partners of color where possible to triangulate White partners’ responses.

Of the 18 White participants, six were in White/Asian relationships, two in White/Indian, seven in White/Black relationships, two in White/Non-White Hispanic or Latino relationships, and

46 one in a White/Middle Eastern relationship.6 White partners’ age ranged from 22 to 55 years, with a mean age of 31 years and median age of 28.5 years. In addition, a large majority had at least a four-year college degree, with seven participants holding an advanced degree. Of the four participants who did not have a college diploma, one reported “some college” and two others were actively working towards a four-year degree. The average income per person for White partners was approximately $40,325.7

Using NVivo, a qualitative data analysis software, I employed a modified grounded theory approach to analyze the data. As outlined in the introduction, in the first round of coding, I sorted and organized the data by using broad codes. Thereafter, I employed a constant comparison method which, allowed me to generate categories and focus on emerging themes. Additionally, I wrote analytic memos throughout the data coding process. These memos summarized ideas from participants’ narratives, made note of overlap with other interview transcripts, explored connections between codes, and also helped me connect emergent themes to existing literature and broader theories of identity work (Saldaña, 2009).

FINDINGS

Participants stated that as a couple, they spent the most of their time in predominately White spaces, as their social networks, neighborhoods, and the public and leisure spaces they occupied were predominately White. Most participants (about 75%) described having little experience with people of color prior to their relationship and most had never experienced being a numerical

6 The racial labels I have used here are intended to simplify language for the purpose of writing clearly and concisely. However, it is important to note how partners of color self-identified. In Table 2 in Appendix A I provide the self- identified race/ethnicity of each partner of color. Additionally, when applicable I reference partners’ self-identified race/ethnicity in my analysis of the data. Table 2 shows significant variation in participants’ self-identified race/ethnicity. This is because the race/ethnicity question I used on the demographic questionnaire was open-ended. The variation in participants’ responses highlights both the complexity of racial and ethnic identities, as well as problems with the use of oversimplified racial categories used in the U.S. 7 Two participants reported being unemployed due to their full-time student status. Their reported zero income is not included in this calculation. 47 minority at any point previously in their lives. It was through their relationship that Whites accessed non-White spaces and experienced being a numerical minority for the first time.

As numerical minorities, Whites became marked and keenly aware of their outsider status in non-White settings. In addition, it was not merely being the only White body in the setting, but an inability to decipher and appropriately perform unfamiliar cultural norms that further marked them as outsiders. Goffman (1959: 24) argues that all social actors maintain a personal front, which includes but is not limited to age, sex, and racial characteristics, posture, speech, facial expressions, and body language. Although racial markers are fixed, actors can use additional components of the personal front to manage others’ perceptions of them. In the sections that follow, I first discuss Whites definition of the situation in non-White spaces followed by a discussion of Whites performances using cultural markers to demonstrate cultural competency, dilute status differences, and establish a sense of belonging in non-White settings. In a few cases,

Whites managed their behaviors to avoid associations of Whiteness as racist, or Whiteness as entitled Americanness.

Defining the Situation

When social actors enter a setting, they seek to acquire information about established norms, as well as information about others in the space (Goffman 1959). This information guides social actors in defining the situation and consequently, shapes their course of social action

(Thomas and Thomas 1928). According to Goffman (1959: 22), the “setting” involves the physical layout, furniture, décor, “and other background items which supply the scenery and stage props” for individuals to use as they engage in social action. As the result of socialization processes much of what we do “from moment to moment” is done “with little calculation or forethought”

(Goffman, 1959: 74). However, when social actors move into new and unfamiliar settings, the appropriate conduct is not immediately intuitable and therefore, social actors must consciously

48 think about how to conduct themselves. This is especially the case when traversing racial-ethnic boundaries, as racial-ethnic groups have “a distinctive complex cultural configuration of proper ways of conducting oneself” (Goffman, 1959: 75).

White participants in this study described feeling hypervisible and apprehensive in non-

White spaces. For White participants with partners of Asian, Middle Eastern, Hispanic, and

Nigerian descent, this apprehension was driven by an inability to interpret and navigate cultural differences, particularly in settings where dominant American norms, or White norms,8 were more subverted. Thus, these Whites distinguished between interacting in settings with people of color whom they perceived to be more assimilated to dominant American norms, and people of color with whom they perceived there to be a larger cultural divide. White participants whose partners were Black also described feelings of apprehension, though apprehension for these Whites was driven by the potential for racial tension or hostility towards their relationship. In light of these differences that emerged, I discuss the ways Whites with Black partners defined the situation separately.

“They’re a little more Americanized”

White participants with non-Black partners described distinct experiences in non-White settings depending on who was in the space and the perceived starkness of cultural differences.

For example, Alex, whose husband identifies as Indian, stated that her experience being the only

White person varied depending on whether she was “with Indians from India,” or if she was “in an all-Indian space with Desi’s—like, American born, or a part of the diaspora.” Veronica, whose husband identifies as Vietnamese, was one of few White participants who described her social network as being largely made up of people of color. She and her husband, Vinh, spent significant time with a tight knit group of friends, all of whom were of East Asian descent. When describing

8 Because Whites in the U.S. have historically, and currently maintain social, economic, and political power, dominant American norms reflect White, middle-class culture. 49 her experience of being the only White person in the setting, Veronica explained that despite racial differences, she found cultural boundaries to be less stark due to their assimilation to dominant norms. “They’re all mostly born here. There’s some who are not but they’re kind of doing the same thing as Vinh and his sister, where they have the culture at home with their parents that’s different than most of their day-to-day interactions. They’re a little more, I don’t know, Americanized.” In addition, Paul stated he was more aware of racial and ethnic differences in settings with his wife’s parents and other family members who were practicing Muslims and had come to the U.S. “as first-generation immigrants from Jordan.”

The most striking example of this distinction comes from Haley. Haley’s partner Luke, who identifies as Asian American, comes from a family that immigrated to the U.S. from China nearly five generations ago. When I first ask Haley if she had ever experienced being the only

White person in a setting, she initially said no. However, interrupting her own thought she stated:

Well, that’s not true. But I feel like because they're so Americanized, it's not like I'm missing on any (pause). Like, I don't not understand anything. Like there's food I'm unfamiliar with a lot of times but like I'm pretty adventurous with eating so I can just try whatever they're ordering. And they don't speak Chinese or anything. So it's not like they're speaking a different language.

Haley went on to describe spending time with Luke’s family in California, where in their home as well as in many public settings, she was in fact the only White person. However, because she perceived Luke and his family as being more assimilated to dominant American culture, her awareness of being the only White person was less pronounced. At one point during the interview,

Haley went as far as describing Luke as, “Like, White with Chinese. Basically White. Like

American.” Luke is not biracial. However, because Haley equates American with White, and because she perceives Luke to be so fully assimilated to dominant American culture, she expresses that he is “basically White.” In my interview with Luke, he corroborates Haley’s characterization

50 of his racial identity. Luke stated that in all White settings, he does not think about the fact that he is the only Asian American, unless someone points it out to him. He explained, “I feel like I am most similar to the White population sometimes.” Luke attributes this to his racial-ethnic socialization “as a kid being Americanized” in a mostly White peer group and in a family that he describes as very assimilated. Luke recalled that throughout his childhood and adolescence,

Whites and other Asian Americans would comment on his racial and ethnic identity:

People would just be like ‘You’re White.’ Like ‘You’re White-washed.’ Um I mean I have embraced it kind of. Like I wrote a few college essays just about being a banana growing up. Sometimes Chinese people ask me ‘Where are you from?’ ‘California.’ ‘No but like where?’ Or like ‘Where is your family from?’ And I’ll be like ‘Ah I couldn’t even tell you that though.’ They’re like, ‘Where in China did your family come from?’ I’m like ‘I don’t know. It’s like that far [back].’ Some of them laugh at me. It’s basically just like they think it’s hilarious. I’ll just be like ‘Yeah I’m just really White.’

As a result of Luke’s racial identity and his family of origin, Haley perceived there to be fewer differences to navigate. However, she postulated that if his family had more recently immigrated to the United States she would likely find it more difficult to navigate interactions with them.

Haley’s hypothesis proved true for many White participants. Other Whites described increased racial salience in non-White settings where dominant American norms were significantly more subverted. This also created a sense of apprehension. For example, Robin, whose partner of four years identifies as Vietnamese, described her feelings when she first began spending time with Michael’s family. Many of Michael’s relatives, including his parents, immigrated to the US in the 1970’s as refugees during the Vietnam War. Robin explains:

I knew no Asians growing up. So at first I was sweating bullets because I didn’t really know what to anticipate. Not gonna lie. It was anxiety provoking. It was the unknown. I didn’t know the rules of the game. I didn’t know how to interact. There’s different norms and I don’t know those norms so I look like an idiot. Now I have a better understanding. I still don’t know them fully but I have a better understanding of what to anticipate so I’m no longer uncomfortable.

Robin’s apprehension in settings with her partners’ relatives is driven by her inability to decipher and conform her behavior to unfamiliar cultural norms. Emily, who spent time with her husband’s family when they visited from India, echoed these sentiments: “I am the only White person and I don’t really know the—like I don’t really understand what’s going on. And I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do.” When asked if she could provide a specific example of this she described a situation in which she, along with her husband Sangar and his family, visited temple:

So there are no seats. It’s just kind of rugs and then sometimes they bring fire to you and I had no idea what I was supposed to do with it. So I felt really weird. I’m like looking around like, ‘Hello?! Someone tell me what I’m supposed to do.’ [laughs] They’re all looking at me like, ‘Do something.’ It’s really awkward, you know? People are really uncomfortable. [laughing]

In most cases, social actors can draw on a repertoire of past performances in combination with “a few cues, hints, and stage directions” to successfully navigate new situations (Goffman, 1959: 72).

In these instances, however, Whites had no prior script to draw on and found themselves ill- prepared to deliver an appropriate and convincing performance, which caused anxiety. Participants feared feeling like an “idiot” as a consequence of misperceiving or misunderstanding unfamiliar cultural practices. Moreover, it was not only their own discomfort that created anxiety, but also their perception that they were causing discomfort for others due to their inability to effectively navigate interactions. This was less so the case for Whites with Black partners, who did not perceive such a wide gulf in cultural norms. In the paragraphs below, I discuss how White participants with Black partners defined their experiences in Black settings.

“Everyone else had an attitude with me”

Whites with Black partners also described feelings of apprehension about entering non-

White settings. However, White participants with Black partners did not express the same reasons for their apprehension. For these White participants, apprehensions centered around the potential

52 for racial tension or open hostility towards their relationship. This concern was mentioned even by participants’ who had not experienced hostility.

For example, when I asked Aaron about his feelings going into a Black setting, he told me he felt “fine about it” because Kimberly, his mixed race partner, “hadn’t really hinted at it being a problem.” He also felt reassured by the fact that Kimberly’s mother was White and was welcomed and loved by her Black father’s side of the family. When I asked Taylor about her experience being the only White person in a Black setting, she repeated multiple times that she never anticipated that anyone in her partner’s family would “have a problem” with their relationship. Since Taylor’s partner Chris had previously dated White women, Taylor felt his family members would be “used to it,” which reassured her.9

For some participants, apprehensions about hostility stemmed from their experiences.

Dana stated that when she first began spending time with her long-term partners’ family, she struggled with how to handle the antagonism she perceived from some of his family members.

At first, like, his mom was nice to me but everyone else had an attitude with me kind of. I cared about him so I just had to deal with it. You know what I mean? I think they thought that I was some type of way because of the other White girls [he had casually dated]. You know what I mean? And they thought I wouldn’t be around very long. Like his aunt was really hard to deal with. She helped raise him, so I didn't know how to take her. I'm like, "Can we please not go in there?" Like, they all live in the same apartment complex. So like, [laugh] if we go to one house, they see our car there and they all come over, which you know, now I'm cool with it. But at the time, it was so much. Because my family's so small. Like I literally have like four cousins. So, at first, it was like, oh my—I would get so much anxiety when I would go over there.

Another participant was unable to maintain relationships with her partner’s family members due to racial tensions. Catherine, who had been married to her husband Frederick for 25 years, told me early in their relationship she perceived Frederick’s family to be very guarded, standoffish, and

9Though several of the examples discussed here highlight that Black partners had previously dated Whites, this was not unique to Black partners. Many non-Black partners had also previously dated Whites or had family members that were dating or married to Whites. 53 critical of their relationship, and that she currently does not have a relationship with her mother- or sister-in-law. The final blow to their relationship came when her husband became ill and was hospitalized. Doctors warned that he might not survive, and a power struggle ensued between

Catherine and her in-laws over who would make medical decisions:

People think of racism especially in a Black-White, as the Whites being the racist ones. It was the Blacks. We still to this day have issues. I don’t communicate with his mother or his younger sister. We had been married. I had 3 young kids. And they wanted to be involved. They wanted to make all the medical decisions. They didn’t understand why I was making the medical decisions. I was told that I didn’t understand the bond between a Black mother and Black son. I thought that was a bunch of crap, because I’m a White mother with a biracial son and you can’t tell me that my bond is stronger or less strong than other races. So we really had some issues. His younger sister is very militant and um, so.

Catherine maintains that early in their relationship, it was Frederick’s family, not her own, who disapproved of their relationship, leading her to assert that it was the Black community who was

“racist.” Moreover, she resented her mother-in-law’s characterization of the bond between Black mothers and sons and assumed it implied Catherine had “less” of a bond with her own son. Though it is unclear how Frederick’s sister being “militant” relates specifically to the story of his hospitalization, the fallout Catherine describes between her and her in-laws is clearly influenced by what she perceives as racial hostility and her in-laws’ strong Black identity and contributes to the way she defines being in Black settings, particularly with her husband’s family.

Finally, for Mark, hostility towards his relationship and critical discussions of Whiteness were reasons for avoiding Black settings altogether. I should note that Mark was never actually interviewed. This information was shared by Celeste, his Black wife, during her own separate interview. She stated that open discussions of race and racism were common occurrences in predominately Black settings, which made Mark uncomfortable. Celeste did not put me in touch with her husband for an interview with him.

In sum, Whites described increased racial salience in non-White settings. Whites with non-

Black partners were unable to navigate unfamiliar cultural norms in settings where dominant cultural norms were subverted, which caused trepidation. Whites with Black partners did not describe difficultly navigating unfamiliar cultural norms, but discussed difficulty navigating perceived racial hostility. In the following section I discuss how Whites described using language, food, and appearance to manage perceptions of difference and establish a sense of belonging in non-White spaces.

Impression Management and Performance Goffman (1959: 4) writes that “when an individual appears in the presence of others, there will usually be some reason for him to mobilize his activity” to “convey an impression” that “is in his interests to convey.” Below, I discuss the impression management strategies used by White participants to navigate non-White settings. These strategies centered around language use, food, manner, and appearance.

Language “I think White people in general tend to be worse at code switching. White people are less often—I mean obviously there are exceptions to the rule—but less often the minority in groups. And so, for a lot of White folks it’s easy to never have to code switch.” -Abby, White woman with Black partner

White partners described using language to navigate non-White settings. In settings where

English was not always the primary language, Whites were largely incapable of communicating and felt further on display due to their hypervisibility as a numerical minority. This contributed to their anxieties about navigating non-White spaces. For participants with Black partners, this was less so the case because language was shared. Still, these participants described more subtle language differences that lead them to modify their own speech in Black settings. In the excerpts

55 below, Abby, whose Black partner immigrated to the U.S. from Nigeria, provides a detailed account of navigating language differences when she met her partners’ family for the first time at a large family gathering:

Everybody was moving linguistically between Igbo, which is one of the many languages in Nigeria, and Pidgin English, which is a combination of many larger dialects within Nigeria, and then English. I was just like ‘Okay. I don’t even know what I’m listening for right now. I don’t know any Igbo. I don’t even know how to say hello.’ So it was really the inability to communicate with someone in their own language, it’s really [pause]. Like everyone pretty much could speak English, but then there was a level of uncomfortableness with like forcing someone to cater to your language needs. And you know, I was the only White person there, so you know, I could tell people were watching me and just being like ‘Who is this person Gene brought home? We know this person will not know our language.’ As a consequence of being the only White person in the space, Abby describes feeling hypervisible and more consciously aware of her Whiteness. Additionally, she felt insecure about her inability to communicate in Igbo or Pidgin English. Abby explained that she had previously dated a Black

American man and had also worked for a community organization that often placed her in predominately Black settings. Thus, this was not her first experience being a numerical minority.

As the result of these past experiences, Abby explained she had learned to “codeswitch” between

White and Black spaces. However, the codeswitching practices she had learned were not useful in this space with her Nigerian partner’s family:

For like two years I was in all Black spaces a lot. I picked up like the cadence of speech and it just became the way that I spoke—not just in Black spaces. So it was just (pause) it became a part of my own vernacular. The little bit of codeswitching I’ve done, I was like very, you know, not wanting to come off as inauthentic. Or like, almost creating like a caricature. And you know code switching is something that I’ve gotten better at. Like it’s something that is much easier now. With Gene though, it’s different. Like being around a Nigerian family, the codeswitching doesn’t translate [laughs]. Um, so I’m not as good at it. I’m not very good at it at all with his family yet. I haven’t really learned the ways that would help me in that particular setting.

Abby’s account is especially useful for demonstrating that Whites not only consciously think about their race, but also adjust their presentation of self to navigate interactions in non-

White settings. Though no other participant explicitly named the practice of “codeswitching,” others discussed making conscious changes to their speech as well. Lily, for example, whose husband is Black, described “dropping the g’s” off her words when interacting with her husband’s mother and sisters. She explained, “Um, for example, instead of saying talking, I’d say talkin.’ Or instead of saying going, I’d say goin.’” Emily, whose husband Sangar immigrated to the U.S. from

India, explained he often switched between American and Indian accents depending on who he was interacting with and that she too, sometimes spoke with an Indian accent. She explained that

“It’s more of like a joking, you know, trying to fit in type of um—I don’t know. It’s not a coping mechanism, but just a way to kind of include myself.” Though some may perceive this as mocking,

Emily felt this was a way to demonstrate knowledge and ability to codeswitch between accents in the way that she has seen her husband do. Sangar did not discuss Emily’s use of an Indian accent in his interview.

Participants with non-Black partners stated that language barriers sometimes made it difficult for them to participate in conversation and connect with others in non-White spaces. By listening intently and learning non-English words and phrases, White partners attempted to connect with others and establish a sense of belonging. This took time and practice and most White partners described being inept even after being with their partner for an extended number of years. Ashley, whose partner of eight years identifies as Mexican-American, described how her shaky Spanish not only made it difficult to keep up with conversation, but also made her uneasy about participating. She explained, “It’s harder for me to feel confident speaking so I don’t speak up much if a conversation is in Spanish, but I try really hard to listen.” Intent listening was critical for

White partners if they wanted to avoid being perceived as culturally inept and engage in interaction in settings where language differences marked them as outsiders. Ashley noted that occasional

57 comments, or jokes were made about her inability to speak Spanish. For instance, she described an incident in which someone began to translate what was happening at a family gathering and a close family friend told them not to because Ashley “needs to learn” how to speak Spanish.

Emily echoed Ashley’s emphasis on trying to keep up with conversations that are not in

English. “A lot of it is me trying to listen and trying to include myself. Thank God they are a very expressive culture that talks with their hands and eyes and their faces, so it’s a little easier to understand that way. I pay attention to all of the clues.” Emily explained that if she could understand what was going on when others were speaking Tamil, she would interject in English to signal that she understood the language being used, even if she was unable to speak it herself.

By doing so, Emily demonstrates a level of familiarity and cultural competency, and is also able to forge a sense of belonging in settings where both racial and language differences mark her as an outsider. In some cases, Emily was fatigued by the work this performance required. In those instances, she described “being a fly on the wall.”

Language, as a cultural marker, demarcates insider and outsider status. Whites inability to understand or speak non-English languages emphasized their outsider status. Thus, Whites described listening intently and paying attention to other interactional cues (e.g. body language and tone of voice) as necessary precursors for their performances in settings where English was not always the primary language. Using non-English words and phrases, interjecting in English, or using accents and adjusting word pronunciation were all impression management strategies

Whites used to demonstrate cultural awareness and establish a sense of belonging as outsiders in non-White spaces.

Beyond navigating language differences, some participants also described navigating when to speak, how much to speak, and what they should speak about. For instance, Robin described

58 difficulty navigating gender expectations in interaction in settings with her husband’s Vietnamese family, particularly with his older male relatives. Robin perceived that few of these relatives spoke to her due to their adherence to more traditional gender roles. Whereas early in the relationship she attempted to engage them and develop a relationship, she had come to feel that her efforts were futile. In the excerpt below, Robin describes being ignored while dining with her husband,

Michael, and young son in a Vietnamese restaurant and links this to her interactions with his male relatives:

We went to a Vietnamese restaurant and sat next to Vietnamese people, who were from Vietnam. This is a very important distinction. They totally fucking ignored me and didn’t talk to me, nor did they introduce themselves to me, but they were very congenial, lively with my husband and my son. So I get offended when I am completely ignored. This is very common for people who are from Vietnam. So yes, that offends me when they acknowledge my husband and son and fail to acknowledge me, but I also understand that that is further rooted in the fact that I’m a non-person as a female for this group of people. I totally accept it now. I understand that I will be ignored by some of his relatives (pause) um, in part because I don’t speak Vietnamese and they may not speak English. Also, because um (pause) they’re sexist. (pause) That’s okay. It doesn’t bother me. I understand that I will be treated by people who are from Vietnam, who are males, as a non-entity who won’t be spoken to and I don’t care anymore. I accept it. It has nothing to do with my value as a human being.

Robin expressed throughout the interview that she had tried every strategy she could think of to develop a meaningful relationship with her in-laws and to engage Michael’s older relatives.

Michael also discussed the impact of the language barrier between his parents and his wife, saying:

“Robin can’t sit with my parents and just like shoot the shit or whatever. One, they don’t talk a lot.

And two, there’s just not a lot of commonality there.” Though other Whites described the impact of language differences on their ability to interact with their partner’s family, Robin’s experience is unique in that no other participant described such difficulty in navigating gendered expectations around interaction in conjunction with a language barrier.

Other participants’ racial awareness did shape how much they spoke and what they spoke about in non-White settings. Alex recalled being invited into a non-White activist-oriented setting, which she characterizes as a “safe space” created by and for people of color. In this setting, Alex interpreted her Whiteness as symbolically representative of White oppression and describes making conscious choices about the way she engages in conversation. As Steinbugler (2012: 142) argues, Whites’ critical racial awareness can shape the way they “read the racial dynamics of social settings” and enable them to see themselves as a racial object. Alex’s excerpt below demonstrates how a critical racial awareness also shapes the way Whites manage their identity in non-White spaces:

I understand you know, (pause) you think you’re in a safe space for something and then someone comes in that maybe isn’t like, aesthetically representative [chuckles] of what the safe space is supposed to look like. So I waited to speak. You don’t want to like overstep your boundaries. Then we got on the topic of gentrification and we were talking about these issues and I wanted to get in there, but I also didn’t want to like take over the conversation. Like, to know what being White means, or like, what kind of history you carry with you into these spaces and to like, know how to act, or like when to speak, or like, trying to rectify all of history by like giving more space or something? That’s a lot of pressure. I mean, clearly being a fucking person of color in an all White space is a lot of fuckin’ pressure, but I do think it takes a toll on me. [pause] Cause’ it’s always being negotiated. Alex recognizes that her White racial identity marks her as an outsider in this setting. Moreover, she characterizes her racial identity as an embodiment of a racially oppressive system, reflected in her statement on knowing “what being White means” and “what kind of history you carry…into these spaces.” As such, she manages her Whiteness by giving considerable thought to when and how much to speak and avoids centering her White perspective or dominating discussions of inequality processes that tend to negatively impact poor and Black urban communities. Essentially,

Alex is sensitive to what she perceives as highly racialized boundaries in this setting and engages

60 in impression management to avoid “whitesplaining”10 gentrification (Johnson 2016). Alex also expressed engaging in these same impression management strategies when spending time with her husband, Kabir’s, family. In my interview with Kabir, he noted that he thinks Alex tends to be quieter in all Indian spaces to manage how she may be perceived: “I think she definitely is like, quieter and doesn’t say as much and like, is kind of very worried about how she appears.” In follow up comments, Kabir attributed this to the fact that Alex “has some respect for [pause] the problems of being an outsider” and suggests Alex is conscious of the meaning of her Whiteness is non-White spaces.

Like Alex, Lauren discussed how she believes her White identity is perceived in Black settings with her husband’s family where discussions of racism occur often. Though Lauren’s description of these discussions as doing “the whole Black thing” at face value seems dismissive and contemptuous, the context Lauren provides throughout her interview demonstrates that she means to suggest open and explicit discussions of racism are characteristic of Black settings:

As far as like his family, you know, sometimes—it’s a little uncomfortable just because I’m not a part of that dialogue. They do the whole Black thing and it’s just—sure, sometimes it’s kind of like, ‘Oh, I don’t know where I fit in here, you know, or I can’t contribute to this conversation in the same way because they’re talking about something that relates towards the Black experience. Lauren’s Whiteness marks her as an outsider in Black settings and she struggles with how to appropriately engage in conversations about the lived experience of Black Americans in a racist society. When I asked how she handles these situations when they arise, she explained:

I just, you know, there have been times where I actually—I hate to admit it—that I have actually left the room for a little bit [laughs]. Just because I felt like, [pause] I either felt uncomfortable or that I didn’t belong. But then there’s times where I just sit quietly and listen. And his mom has made references about you know, interracial couples, or about “that White girl.” She has said things directly like, ‘Oh, Lauren. We know you don’t know

10 Whitesplaining is a term used mostly in popular culture to describe interactions in which White individuals attempt to explain racism to people of color who have firsthand, experiential knowledge of it. 61

about these things,’ and I’ll be like, ‘Well, I can still—’ you know. I usually just try and qualify it by saying like, ‘I might not have your experience,’ but I’m not one of those White people. [laughs] Like not everybody—we’re not all the same! You know, some of us are willing to listen and hear and internalize your experiences, and trust that what you’re telling us is real.

While discussing and critiquing Whiteness may not be a distinct cultural marker of Blackness, it certainly runs counter to dominant American norms. As a racial outsider, Lauren struggles to navigate these interactions and in some cases engages in White fragility—a term used to describe

Whites emotional responses to discomfort prompted by critical discussions of race (DiAngelo,

2011). At other times, Lauren’s impression management strategies were intended to communicate a White identity that is different than other Whites who may be racially unaware of willfully ignorant. Instead, she hoped to communicate a racially aware White identity by demonstrating a sincere willingness to learn about the impact of racism in Black Americans daily lives.

In contrast to these women who described listening as an impression management strategy,

Melissa described being consciously more talkative in Black settings and attempting to emphasize sameness between herself and Black individuals in the setting. “I think a lot of it is just being talkative. You know, we’re all human and so we all worry about raising our kids properly. You know, we all are talking about the game that happened the night before, you know? So you find commonalities and then you start realizing, ‘Hey she’s no different than I am,’ you know?”

Recognizing that her Whiteness and her upper class background marks her as an outsider in the lower income Black settings Melissa visited early in her marriage, Melissa recalled consciously being more talkative and emphasizing sameness as an attempt to dilute perceived differences. Lily, whose husband is Black and works as a teacher at a local public school with a significant Black population, also spoke about managing others’ perceptions by emphasizing sameness. “When I make connections with people, I try to figure out where they’re coming from and then try to slip into a conversation some way that I have been in their shoes, or I can understand where they’re

62 coming from.” When I asked if she could give me an example of this, Lily described navigating race and class differences with the mothers of her students:

Maybe Black moms, or like there was one mom that like, I had really nice jewelry on. I was wearing a really nice diamond ring and you could see that she was going ‘Mm-hmm, she does not know what I’m talking about. She is not from my—’ Like, ‘she doesn’t understand being poor.’ And I, you know worked into the conversation that I worked third shift at a gas station and saved a lot of money to buy this for myself and I was proud of that. And she was like, ‘Oh. Okay.’ I mean, she kind of relaxed. Lily describes being aware of how her race and perceived class background may shape Black parents’ assumptions about her ability to relate to them. As a result, she consciously describes managing perceptions of her as racially unaware and disconnected from the struggles of being lower income, by emphasizing financial struggles of her past. In sum, Whites discussed using language to navigate difference in non-Whites spaces. Impression management strategies involved strategic and intent listening, deploying learned words and phrases, and altering accents and the pronunciations of words. In addition, Whites discussed conscious efforts to adjust how much they spoke and what they spoke about. In large part Whites impression management strategies were motivated by a desire to reduce perceptions of difference, demonstrate cultural awareness, and establish a sense of belonging. For a few Whites who were more critically aware of race, these strategies were used to avoid being perceived as racially unaware.

Food My food choices have changed drastically. I feel like that’s been the biggest change in my life. Like you know, I eat with chopsticks if everybody’s eating with chopsticks. I try and eat the same way and get the same things. Like, I pick up on how they’re deciding to eat stuff. If I ordered Vietnamese food and never had a frame of reference, there would probably be a certain way I’d eat it. But now, with a frame of reference, there’s certain things about what gets dipped here and you know, this and that. -Veronica, White partner with Vietnamese husband In this excerpt, Veronica describes consciously paying attention to others’ behaviors during meals and through imitation, learning to appropriately manage not only what she ate, but how she

63 ate it. This was certainly a theme that emerged in the data as participants described being attentive to the ways others in the setting ate food. “Not knowing how to eat ‘properly’ is universally a sign of outsider status” (Fox, 2003:3). Thus, in this analysis, I discuss food as part of the setting—as props or “expressive equipment” that Whites “intentionally or unwittingly” use in their performances in non-White spaces (Goffman 1959: 22). Modern anthropology emphasizes that foods are markers of social boundaries and that what we eat and how we eat it become symbols of who we are (Fox 2003). In other words, food is a vehicle for expressing identities related to social class, race-ethnicity, religion, and so forth. The foods we eat, the time of day we eat, the order in which we consume foods, and where we eat symbolically communicate “messages about selves and status, role and religion, race and nation” (Fox, 2003: 21). Whites described using food and drink to navigate racial-ethnic, gendered, and class norms in non-White spaces. These impression management strategies were intended to demonstrate cultural competency, dilute status differences, and establish a sense of belonging in non-White settings.

As Fox (2003: 3) argues, “proper eating includes the kind of food used, the way of preparing it, the manner of serving it, and the way of eating it.” In the opening excerpt, Veronica describes familiarizing herself with appropriate Vietnamese food practices and managing her performance during meals which established a sense of belonging. Simultaneously, she continued to struggle with the correct names of Vietnamese dishes, which frustrated her husband, Vinh:

He gets frustrated with me because he’ll say we’re having bún thịt nướng and I’m like ‘Which one is that?’ And he’s like, ‘You’ve had this a million times. Why don’t you know the name of it?’ [scolding tone]. And I’m like, ‘Can you just tell me what it is in English? Then I’ll learn the name of it.’ So it’s a constant battle for me to start picking up more of it.

Despite these performance mishaps, Veronica and Vinh’s close group of friends often joked that she was an “honorary Asian.” When I asked why they might say this, she explained that in addition

64 to often being the only White person in their friend group, it was “probably” because she had

“adopted some of the customs, like eating with chopsticks.” 11 Similarly, Christy noted that her partners’ family seemed surprised that she liked the Korean food they served at Thanksgiving and were impressed with her use of chopsticks. When Christy was unable to communicate with family members in Korean, she used food to connect with them. “There was lots of serious cooking all over. Like ladies with all these big colanders and vegetables and like speaking Korean really quickly.” When I asked if and how she attempted to be a part of the interaction, she explained that she “helped cook a little bit” and showed enthusiasm by “really being into the food. Everybody was surprised I liked it I guess. They were like, ‘You know how to use chopsticks!’” Based on the reaction of her partners’ family, Christy indicates that they were “surprised” that she liked the food and seem impressed with her ability to use chopsticks. This suggests that Whites performances construct them as culturally aware and distance them from Whites who may object or refrain from eating foods not typically associated with dominant White culture.

Robin described how her behaviors changed across settings with her White family compared to her husband’s Vietnamese family. Based on her experiences with Michael’s family, she surmised that it a sign of respect and polite to consume a large amount of food in Vietnamese gatherings. Moreover, she noted that there are stricter gender expectations for women surrounding the consumption of alcohol, which was something she was not used to in her own family. “It’s a lot of people and there’s emphasis on eating, not drinking. No drinking. Especially not if you’re a female. That makes you look bad. So I don’t really drink at his, where like at my own family’s

11 Veronica also described talking often and explicitly with friends about anti-Asian sentiments and their experiences with racism. Based on my interview with her, it is likely that this, in addition to being the only White person and performing Asian cultural markers, contributed to her being described as an “honorary Asian.” 65 house, we drink a lot.” By changing both the amount she ate, and avoiding consuming alcohol,

Robin describes adapting to gendered food norms in Vietnamese settings.

Emily explained that learning to cook various authentic Indian dishes increased her knowledge of Indian food and made it easier for her to relate to her husband and their close group of Indian friends. “I learned how to cook the different foods. So it’s a little bit easier for me to you know, talk about them. And I understand when they’re like, ‘Oh I wish I had dosa and sambhar’ and all these things. I’m like, ‘Yes! That sounds awesome! I wish I had that too!’’ By familiarizing herself with Indian foods, Emily accessed insider information and was able to use it to interpret references and establish belonging in Indian settings with her husband and friends. These findings regarding Whites’ performances using food and drink are supported by the findings of Twine

(2010) in her study of Black-White interracial families in Britain. The author argues that White mothers’ “consumption and preparation of ethnic food was a cultural practice” that enabled them to not only transfer “ethnic capital” to their mixed race children, but also “to achieve respectability and acceptance among their black family members” (158).

Other participants’ described using food to both interpret and perform class status differences. Goffman (1959: 36) notes that “sign equipment associated with social class consists of the status symbols through which material wealth is expressed.” In these instances, food is used as sign equipment to convey class meanings and manage impressions. Catherine grew up in a very wealthy White, Midwestern family, spending time at her father’s country club throughout her early life. Unlike Catherine, Frederick, her Black husband of 25 years, grew up in a lower income family.

During the interview Catherine described a visit early on in their relationship to a predominately

Black lower income housing complex. In the excerpt below, Catherine describes how she understood the food and drinks being consumed as markers of race and class, which helped her

66 first define the situation. In the following paragraph, I discuss how she used this information to manage her own identity in the setting:

I remember we went one time down to the Fay [apartments], which is the projects here in Cincinnati. Some friends of ours were grillin’ out and I got down there and I was like ‘Oh crap.’ Um, all Black, I mean—I knew I was goin’ to the projects, Frederick warned me— but here I am, you know lil’ White girl in this lil’ White mini skirt and you know goin’ to this, where everybody had purple Kool-Aid and all the stereotypes had come out, you know. Um, we started grillin’ and they’re like, ‘Yeah Catherine, we’re gonna be grillin’ steaks.’ You know, I’m thinkin’ a ribeye and no, it was cube steak. Um but the people were nice. I had to get over myself feeling uncomfortable cause it was an uncomfortable setting. You know I had never been—Number one, it was lower income. I wasn’t used to that. Um I’m sure there were drugs left and right. I didn’t wanna offend anybody. I didn’t wanna come off as being uppity. Um, but everybody knew I was there you know. So it was like, everybody’s lookin at you, you know, I didn’t wanna offend anybody. Catherine points to the setting, including the physical location, food, and drinks as signifiers of race and class. “Purple Kool-Aid” is interpreted as a marker, albeit a stereotypical one, of Black identity, and cube stake as a marker of low income status. In this setting, Catherine’s Whiteness and associated privileges are amplified by her upper class background. When asked how she managed feeling hypervisible and avoided coming across as pretentious, or “uppity,” Catherine stated that she would “Drink the beer out of the bottle. You know, drink the Mad Dog 50/50 out of the bottle [laughs]. You know, fit in.” The drink Melissa is referring to, a low cost, high alcohol content wine, is actually called Mad Dog 20/20. By consuming a cheap alcoholic drink straight from the bottle, Catherine intended to signal a down-home identity that masked her upper class upbringing and perhaps, associations with Whiteness as being stiff or uptight. Catherine’s misnaming of the drink raises question as to how well she was able to pull off this performance.

Though social actors may attempt to convince their audience that they are related to them more closely than they actually are, this can be difficult to do when actors do not have full command of the appropriate references or actions. Nonetheless, Catherine described engaging in “negative

67 idealization,” the practice of downplaying expressions of wealth, to conceal status differences between herself and those in the setting (Goffman, 1959:40).

Lily also described using food to navigate expectations and avoid judgements across settings. Specifically, she made distinct food choices for her children by limiting or allowing them to eat certain foods depending on whether they were with her upper middle class White family, or with her husband’s working class Black family.

In my family, we have to play up the organic. Not specifically my parents, but my sister- in-law, they’re all like very healthy and granola-y. And they’re very like—if he had anything to do with like Pokemon, or any of that mainstream culture, it was like ‘Oh my gosh!’ Like my older sister said to me ‘He’s so screen oriented.’ Cause he likes to watch TV sometimes. So you have to downplay the organic and you know, non-sugar in one family, and up-do it at the other family. Because “junk food” is “condemned as non-nutritious, vulgar, or even dangerous to one’s health” and because it is less expensive, it is often associated with lower status (Fox, 2003: 13). As such,

Lily fears judgement from her upper middle class family. However, to maintain these food restrictions around her partners working class family would imply judgement of the foods they consume. Moreover, it could potentially mark Lily as a pretentious White woman. Thus, in those settings, she relaxes food restrictions. As Goffman (1959) notes, when actors are able to keep their audiences separated from one another, they are able to sustain different, and sometimes contradictory impressions. It is important to note that despite the differences in their families’ food consumption, Lily does not interpret these differences to be racial. Because she knows of middle and upper middle class Black families that make food choices similar to her own family, she deduced that it is not a racial-ethnic difference, but rather a difference driven by class. In a comparison of Thanksgiving celebrations, she notes additional class differences between her husbands’ family and her own.

I mean, it was definitely different from mine. My family is like—there's like the baby table, and they bring out all the china. And theirs was like paper plates and plastic and bringing chairs in, and we ate on the floor. But it was still fun! And like the food was good. Uh, it's different food than my food. My food—like my parents make everything from scratch. They spend the whole day. And his family was like, there was a lot of plastic containers, a lot of like purchased items. Um a lot of salt—like super salty food.

Manner and Appearance In his discussion of personal front, Goffman (1959) distinguishes between manner and appearance. Manner refers to social actors’ style, approach, or way of behaving towards others, whereas appearance refers to statuses conveyed by the way social actors look. Whites described using the manner in which they played their role to signal comfort in non-White settings. This was mostly done through gestures and body language. In addition, some participants described making conscious changes to their appearance to signal belonging in non-White settings. Below, I first describe Whites use of manner, followed by a discussion of performances using appearance.

“Body language is an outward reflection of a person’s emotional condition” (Pease &

Pease, 2004: 11). Each gesture or movement provides insight into the emotions a person may be feeling. Though much of our body language occurs without conscious thought, social actors may use their body language to express a particular attitude or emotion or conceal their real feelings.

Whites stated that they consciously altered their body language in non-White spaces to avoid appearing anxious, which might signal that they are uncomfortable or do not belong. When I ask

Aaron how he would describe being the only White person in a Black setting to someone who has never experienced it before, he said:

The only thing that changes is maybe my dialogue and maybe my, persona? But it’s—it’s not so much adapting to what’s going on as it’s just being comfortable. It’s almost that kind of animal instinct. People know when people are being awkward. So it’s like, if you’re nervous or scared, or don’t want to be there, the people around you know you don’t want to be there because you’re keeping to yourself, that kind of stuff.

Aaron does not explicitly state whether he is or is not comfortable in Black settings, only that it is important to appear comfortable, otherwise, the performance will not believable to the audience.

In his dramaturgical analysis, Goffman (1959) argues that the sincerity of a performer is not really of relevance, only whether the audience believes the actor is sincere. In the excerpt below, Aaron receives what he describes as “the head raise, or whatever” from a Black male passerby as he and his mixed race partner walk through a predominately Black neighborhood near campus. Aaron believes he received this gesture because his comfortable and confident body language signals belonging in the predominately Black setting. “I don’t know if it’s the persona that I give off is like not looking down or like, looking at my phone. I’m just like walkin’, I’m lookin’ around, seein’ what’s going on.” Though his tone cannot be conveyed here, Aaron felt validated by this interaction.

Others also spoke about being consciously aware of their body language to avoid appearing uncomfortable in non-White spaces. Abby, who described interacting with her partner’s Nigerian family at a large family gathering, spoke explicitly about how she used her physical body to manage feelings of discomfort and to navigate interactions that she felt she was fumbling through.

People like an openness about body language. I try to be very active about like not shutting down, or isolating myself because I think that me being uncomfortable would make the situation much more uncomfortable and give reason for them to be more skeptical of me. Like, ‘clearly she doesn’t feel like she belongs here, so clearly she doesn’t belong here.’ So I made a lot of eye contact. Smiled a lot. Laughed at myself a lot. Like allowed for that to be an okay thing. Like I was introduced to someone and they said their name and internally I was like ‘I have no idea how to pronounce that.’ I tried once and butchered it. And we sort of had like this moment where I made eye contact with them and their face softened in a nice way, and I was like, ‘I’m so sorry.’ Just like that moment of like, you know—it was a very humbling experience for me. I just tried to open myself up to the experience and recognize that you know, I’m not going to be able to develop relationships as quickly as I would with people that I share a culture with, but I want to learn.

Abby anticipates that her White identity may be met with skepticism and that others might question her belonging, especially if she appears uncomfortable. “The impression of reality fostered by a performance is a delicate, fragile thing that can be shattered by very minor mishaps” (Goffman,

1959: 56). Abby felt that her mispronunciation of another’s name had given away her performance.

To recover, Abby uses the manner in which she plays her role. Through her use of eye contact, smiles, and laughter, she signals deference, respect, humility, and sincerity. In these ways, she manages what she perceives as others’ inclination to distrust her due to associations with

Whiteness as entitled and culturally unaware.

In my interview with Abby’s partner, Gene, he also discussed the importance of body language and appearance when his White partner, and White women more generally are in all

Black settings—particularly those where hip-hop culture is prevalent. He explained:

Um, because man, a White chick who's not down, right? Who's not like representing a culture in a way that's visible, I feel is more, is more susceptible to ostracizing and dehumanizing in a space that’s like Mixx12 or something downtown.

To clarify his comments, I followed up by asking Gene if he meant to describe White women who

“appear very culturally White.” He responded, “Yeah. In this space they become [long pause].” I waited a moment and then asked, “ a target?” Gene replied, “For sure. Totally.” In the conversation that followed, I asked Gene if he could describe how one would identify a White woman in this type of setting, who appears culturally White versus a White woman who some would describe as

“down.” Gene explained:

Posture, cosmetics, um, attire. You know, general comfort level in the space. You know what I mean? Um, how comfortable are you to show up in a place by yourself full of Black people? Because one can tell, once—once there's blood in the water, sharks are ready, you know what I'm saying?

12 Mixx is a mostly Black hip-hop club in downtown Cincinnati, which has since shut down. 71

Similar to earlier comments made by Aaron in which he describes others’ “animal instinct” for knowing when individuals are nervous, scared, or appear uncomfortable, Gene notes that being seen as out of place or uncomfortable may mark White White women in hip-hop oriented Black settings as a target for harassment. While Abby spoke mostly about the importance of body language in navigating Black settings with Gene’s Nigerian family, it is clear from others’ accounts that managing body language is key is important in other settings as well.

In addition to gestures and body language, other participants described making adjustments to their appearance as a way to manage impressions in non-Whites spaces. Emily recalled attending an annual Indian music festival and discussed how she made decisions about what to wear.

Through her clothing choices, Emily hoped to establish a sense of belonging, show respect for

Indian customs, and avoid the stigma of American entitlement:

Most of the people there are Indian. I’m usually the only White person. I was trying to kind of fit in. I didn’t want to show up in jeans and it seem as if I were being disrespectful. You know, kind of, ‘I’m American. I’ll do what I want. I’ll wear what I want,’ kind of situation. I was trying not to do that. Kind of respect where I was.

With the help of others Emily prepared for her performance by planning ahead what she would wear. It is in the backstage “that illusions and impressions are openly constructed. Here stage props and items of personal front can be stored…costumes and other parts of personal front may be adjusted and scrutinized for flaws” (Goffman, 1959: 112). Below, Emily recalls receiving help in the backstage to determine what would be appropriate to wear. Once she became more familiar with the customs Indian women adhered to in the space, she felt assured to make appropriate choices in subsequent visits:

When I went the first time, someone came over from India and had gifted me a sari. So I wore that the first time. That was good because that was like the most uncomfortable time for me. So to have someone say ‘This is what you should wear. I bought this for you to wear to this’ was nice. When I went back, I had already seen everyone, kind of knew my options and I could choose what would be appropriate from whatever I had. [laughs]

Similarly, Dana, a White woman from an upper middle class background, described making conscious modifications to her style of dress after she began dating Damien, who is Black, more than ten years ago. In contrast to Dana, Damien grew up in an impoverished family, which impacted the modifications Dana made to her style of dress as she began spending time in predominately Black, lower income settings. In the excerpt below, Dana describes this process at the start of their relationship:

I dress completely different now then how I used to. It’s definitely because of him. I was just really preppy. Like I wore Abercrombie. I used to wear, like—popped my collar. When I first got with Damien I was like, ‘I’m about to dress different.’ Like I went to the mall and got some Apple Bottoms. I was just telling him about that. I was like, ‘Do you remember when I came out of the house [laughs] at my moms? Had Apple Bottoms on? And then still had my Abercrombie shirt with my collar popped?’ [laughs]

Clothing, especially name brand clothing, can be understood as sign equipment that signal both class and race meanings. In this excerpt, Dana describes being “preppy” in her youth and wearing

Abercrombie, an expensive name brand associated with Whiteness and worn mostly by adolescents. She also describes wearing the collar of her polo shirt “popped,” a conservative style of dress that became mainstream in the early 2000’s (the time to which she is referring). After she began dating Damien, however, Dana describes making a conscious decision to alter her style of dress and specifically purchased Apple Bottom Jeans. Apple Bottoms, a name brand launched in the early 2000’s by rapper and hip-hop artist, Nelly, became a symbolic marker of Black culture due to its affiliation with hip-hop. Dana laughs at the irony of pairing such contradictory styles together. Her specific choice of Apple Bottom Jeans was an intentional attempt to signal insider knowledge of Black culture and belonging in predominantly lower income Black spaces, while her decision to pair them with an Abercrombie polo shirt (and “popped collar”) signaled the White upper middle class background she came from. Though Apple Bottoms have since fallen out of

73 style, Dana explained that her current style of dress is continually shaped by her relationship with

Damien and time spent in Black settings. She explained that she often wears gym shoes, specifically “high-tops,” which she “never wore” prior to dating Damien. High-tops, though not strictly or solely markers of Black culture, have been popularized by Black hip-hop artists and professional basketball players beginning in the 1970’s (Chrisman-Campbell 2016). As a result, high-tops have become associated with Black culture, which Dana uses to signal belonging in

Black spaces.

DISCUSSION Scholars across disciplines have studied racial-ethnic identity work, examining how racialized social actors understand and deploy racial-ethnic meanings as they negotiate interaction with different audiences and navigate shifting racial-ethnic meanings across social contexts.

Although this literature has provided valuable insights as to how racial meanings are imposed,

(re)produced, and challenged in interaction at the micro-level, this research has overwhelmingly focused on monoracial people of color and multiracial individuals. Early studies of White racial identity contend that Whites do not think of themselves as having race—that their racial identity is a sort of empty, meaningless category—and are generally racially unconscious beings who do not, or cannot, conceive of their own Whiteness (McIntosh 1989; Terry 1981). However, the last three decades of scholarship on White identity have demonstrated this finding to be overstated, showing that some Whites do in fact think about their racial identity (Hartmann, Gerteis, and Croll

2009). In particular, studies find that prolonged and meaningful interracial contact, both platonic and romantic, can propel Whites towards racial awareness (Frankenberg 1993; O’Brien 2001;

Twine and Steinbugler 2006; Yancey 2007). Despite these findings, the ways that Whites consciously manage their identity in interaction have largely gone unexamined.

In White dominant spaces Whites experience race as a low salience identity. Thus, to address this gap in the literature, I interviewed White partners in interracial relationships about their experiences in non-White settings. In this study, I find that Whites experience a heightened awareness of their racial identity, as well as feelings of anxiety and discomfort in non-White spaces. In part, this was due to their hypervisibility, however, much of the apprehension participants described was driven by their lack of familiarity with cultural norms which dictate rules of interaction, as well as the potential for racial hostility (in the case of White participants with Black partners). Racial difference and an inability to navigate unfamiliar cultural norms marked Whites as outsiders in non-White spaces. Thus, participants engaged in impression management strategies centered around language, food, manner, and appearance in order to manage perceptions of difference and establish a sense of belonging in non-White spaces.

The importance of these findings are threefold. First, this study contributes to literature on

White racial identity and bolsters previous findings that some Whites possess a racial awareness, particularly in settings where Whiteness becomes marked and is experienced as a salient identity

(Steinbugler 2012). Moreover, these findings illustrate how some Whites can move beyond a

White racial frame. Feagin (2013: 3) describes the White racial frame as “an overarching White worldview that encompasses a broad and persisting set of racial stereotypes, prejudices, ideologies, images, interpretations and narratives, emotions, and reactions to language accents, as well as racialized inclinations to discriminate.” This frame operates at both the micro and macro levels of society and can “interfere with Whites having successful interactions with people of color” (Feagin

2013: 223). Although participants described initial feelings of apprehension about entering non-

White spaces and discomfort with unfamiliar norms, they also described efforts to learn and engage in meaningful ways. In some instances, Whites were able to recognize racial power dynamics in

75 interaction and were conscious about behaviors that can at the very least be insensitive and hurtful, or worse, can reproduce inequality. Although this was not true for all participants, it does demonstrate how some Whites can enact a racial awareness in interaction and manage behaviors that may otherwise exacerbate inequalities. People of color often experience subtle racism, invalidation, and silencing in interaction with Whites, which connects “routine situations in everyday life” to “structural forces of racism” (Essed 1991: 2). The findings from this study illustrate how Whites can enact a racial consciousness and through careful management of their behaviors, avoid perpetuating racism in interactions with people of color. However, it is important to note the uniqueness of the Whites in this sample. Beyond their decision to date interracially and their time spent in non-White settings, Whites in this sample were also highly educated. Although higher education certainly does not preclude one from racism, several participants spoke explicitly about college courses that exposed to them critical understandings of race and racism. Others spoke of listening to podcasts, seeking out books on issues related to race and interracial dating, and engaging in dialogue with their partner and others about racial issues. Thus, it is important to consider that the impression management strategies participants described engaging in may not commonly appear in the broader White population. However, these findings suggest that future research should examine the process and impact of Whites enactment of a racially aware identity in micro-level interactions.

Second, this study’s use of Goffman’s (1959) dramaturgical approach expands scholarship on racial-ethnic identity work by illustrating how Whites—as racialized social actors—deploy racial and cultural signifiers to manage impressions of their White identity as they navigate non-

White spaces. Studies of multiracial and monoracial people of color find that racial performances are a way for individuals to signal an authentic racial identity and lay claim to racial group

76 membership (Carbado and Gulati 2013; DaCosta 2007; King-O’Riain 2006; Mahtani 2002;

Miville et al. 2005; Romo 2011). In what she calls race work, King-O’Riain (2006: 23) describes

“the bodily labor that” Japanese and White mixed-race women “perform in deportment, dress, action, language, food practices, accent, and a range of other ways in order to make claims to a physical appearance or phenotype associated with biological notions of race.” The White participants in this study did not attach their impression management behaviors to biological notions of race. However, their behavioral adaptations revolving around food, language, manner, and appearance attempted to distance their White identity from associations of Whiteness with being racially and culturally unaware. Moreover, these strategies attempted to reduce impressions of racial difference and establish a sense of belonging in settings which marked them as racial outsiders. In addition, more than one participant reported being labeled an “honorary” member of another racial group, suggesting that some Whites’ performances do in fact shift the way their

Whiteness is perceived by others.

Finally, although there are some parallels between the racial-ethnic identity work performed by people of color and Whites’, it is necessary to note important differences. Racial performance and codeswitching is often used by people of color to successfully navigate a White dominant society and White institutions that would otherwise be exclusionary. In this way, racial performance is a necessary strategy for people of color to maintain access to material resources

(e.g. jobs and education). This is not the case for White participants who engaged in identity work in non-White spaces with friends or their partners’ family. Moreover, whereas managing racial visibility is a part of everyday life for people of color, Whites’ privileged racial identity means that

Whites “rarely feel racialized or racially marked” (Steinbugler 2012: 33). The Whites in this study reported that as a couple they spent most of their time in predominately White spaces, therefore,

77 the discomfort and impression management they described performing in non-White spaces was sporadic and much less a part of their everyday lives.

CHAPTER IV

MAKING SENSE OF INCONSISTENCY: WHITE PARTNERS ON INTERPERSONAL RACISM IN “NONRACIST” WHITE SPACES

INTRODUCTION

In the U.S., acceptance of racial difference has come to signify a moral and nonracist White identity (Bell and Hartmann 2007; Smith and Mayorga-Gallo 2017). Early studies of White identity found that Whites generally lack racial awareness, however, more recent studies find that some are aware of their racial group membership and racial inequality (Croll 2007; Hartmann et al. 2009). Evidence suggests that exposure to racism through relationships with people of color can propel some Whites towards racial awareness (O’Brien, 2001; Yancey, 2007). This is especially true of studies on Whites who are members of interracial couples and multiracial families (Childs 2005; Dalmage 2000; Frankenberg 1993; Steinbugler 2012; Twine 2010). Recent studies have focused specifically on how White partners acquisition of racial literacy, a critical racial awareness, shapes their ability to navigate complex racial meanings. Although these studies provide valuable insights, most Whites do not attain a critical racial awareness. Indeed, both Twine

(2010) and Steinbugler (2012) note that White partners who achieved racial literacy were in the minority of their samples. In addition, in light of shifts from explicit to more subtle expressions of racism, we also know less about how White partners identify and make sense of the interpersonal racism they encounter as intimate partners of people of color. Using cognitive dissonance theory as a guiding framework, I address this gap by examining White partners’ narratives about the interpersonal racism they encounter in White spaces.

This study is a part of a larger project in which I interviewed 40 partners in White/non-

White interracial relationships about their experiences navigating racially homogenous spaces.

Although this study focuses on Whites’ narratives, I also rely on data from partners of color as these data are especially useful for triangulating Whites’ responses. I find that both partners of color and Whites relied on stereotypes, as well as actual encounters with overt and hostile forms of interpersonal racism to characterize White suburbs, rural areas, and the South as racist spaces to avoid when possible. However, the narratives of partners of color and Whites diverged when describing their experiences in the White settings couples frequented socially. Partners of color shared stories of more subtle forms of racism and indicated this was typical of their experience in

White settings. White partners, on the other hand, first characterized these White settings as comfortable spaces where racism was not a concern. Yet, White partners contradicted this narrative as they too identified recurrent subtle forms of interpersonal racism. Cognitive dissonance theory posits that when individuals’ beliefs and/or behaviors are incongruent and threatening to their self- concept, they will engage in forms of identity work to maintain a positive conception of themselves. Using this theory as a framework, I argue that White partners’ self-concept as good and nonracist is at risk due to their association with Whites who engage in racist behaviors. Thus,

White partners minimize and rationalize subtle and implicit forms of interpersonal racism as a form of identity work in order to maintain conceptions of other Whites, and thereby themselves, as “good” nonracist Whites.

LITERATURE REVIEW

Early studies of White identity posited that Whites experience their racial identity as an invisible and meaningless category (McIntosh 1989; Terry 1981). However, the last several decades of scholarship on White identity have demonstrated this finding to be overstated, showing

80 that some Whites do in fact think about their racial identity (Frankenberg 2001; Hartmann et al.

2009) and perhaps increasingly so (Smith and Mayorga-Gallo 2017). Additionally, studies suggest that exposure to racism through prolonged and meaningful relationships with people of color can alert Whites to issues of race and racism and propel some Whites towards racial awareness

(O’Brien 2001; Yancey 2007). This is especially true of studies on Black-White interracial couples and multiracial families, which find that through intimate relationships with romantic partners some Whites come to understand how race and racism impact the everyday lives of Black

Americans (Childs 2005; Dalmage 2000; Frankenberg 1993; Steinbugler 2012; Twine 2010).

Twine (2010) and Steinbugler (2012) in particular have provided valuable insights as to how Whites’ in intimate interracial relationships can develop a critical racial awareness, conceptualized as racial literacy. Twine (2010: 92) describes racial literacy as “an analytical orientation and a set of practices that reflect shifts in perceptions of race, racism and Whiteness.”

The study focuses on White mothers of children of African descent in the UK, who acquired racial literacy, and demonstrates how this enabled them to navigate complex racial meanings, identify everyday examples of racism, and successfully socialize their children in ways that prepare them to navigate a racist society. The author concludes that a focus on Whites who achieved racial literacy provides useful insights as to how White members of multiracial families can be “sources of antiracism” (Twine 2010: 113). While true, a focus on these Whites leaves us with questions about how other White partners integrate understandings of racism into their everyday lives.

Scholars of racism have noted a shift away from early racial ideology, which justified racial inequality by casting people of color as biologically inferior, towards “colorblind” explanations of racial inequality (Bonilla-Silva 2006; Bonilla-Silva and Lewis 1999). In the era of colorblindness, nonracial factors are used to explain away racial inequality. This ideology is expressed using four

81 main frames: abstract liberalism, naturalization, cultural racism, and minimization of racism

(Bonilla-Silva 2006). Moreover, whereas racial attitudes and hostilities were previously expressed in overt and explicit ways, contemporary racism manifests in more covert and implicit ways. In part, this is because overt expressions of racial prejudices are no longer socially acceptable

(Bonilla-Silva 2002; Bonilla-Silva and Lewis 1999). To be racist, or associated with racism, is to be a “bad” or morally bankrupt person and is thus undesirable. This increase in more subtle forms of racism has lead to an explosion of research on racial microaggressions. Sue et al., (2007) describe racial microaggressions as “brief and commonplace daily verbal, behavioral, or environmental indignities, whether intentional or unintentional, that communicate hostile, derogatory, or negative racial slights and insults toward people of color.” The subtle and ambiguous nature of microaggressions—and the fact that they are often perpetrated by well- meaning individuals—can make them difficult to detect and interpret. Nonetheless, scholars across disciplines have demonstrated that these everyday slights and insults, regardless of the intentions behind them, have negative consequences on the physical and mental health, economic, social, and educational circumstances of people of color (Hill, Kobayashi, & Hughes, 2007; Laer & Janssens,

2011; Smith, Allen, & Danley, 2007; Solorzano, Ceja, & Yosso, 2000; Yosso, Smith, Ceja, &

Solorzano, 2009). This emphasis on subtle racism in recent scholarship does not negate the fact that explicit and hostile expressions of racial attitudes continue but does highlight the nature of interpersonal racism in the colorblind era. In the section below, I discuss cognitive dissonance theory as a useful framework for understanding how White partners identify and make sense of the interpersonal racism they encounter from other Whites.

Cognitive Dissonance Theory

In its original formulation, social psychologist Leon Festinger (1957: 31) developed cognitive dissonance theory to explain the discomfort that arises from “non-fitting relations among cognitions” and the activities individuals engage in to reduce dissonance. In other words, when individuals hold ideas and/or behaviors that are incongruent with one other, tension arises, and individuals experience discomfort or anxiety. Festinger argued that this discomfort motivates individuals to restore congruence in their cognitions by: 1) changing their beliefs and/or behaviors,

2) changing their environment, or 3) reducing the importance of the dissonance.

Though a full review is not possible here, many scholars have since critiqued and amended this theory. A central development of subsequent formulations that is of most relevance to this paper is an emphasis on self-concept. Aronson (1960; 1997: 131) argues that “dissonance is greatest and clearest when what is involved is not just any two cognitions but, rather, a cognition about the self and a piece of our behavior that violates that self-concept.” Dissonance does not arise simply because of incongruence between behaviors and attitudes, but rather, dissonance arises because of incongruence between individuals’ behaviors and their desire to maintain a consistent, competent, and moral self-concept. Plainly, Aronson (1960; 1997) argues that individuals want to maintain conceptions of themselves as good and moral. When their behaviors violate their principles, their self-concept is threatened. Consequently, individuals will engage in identity work to reduce dissonance and restore their moral self-concept.

Threats to one’s self-concept can also occur due to one’s associations with others. Snow and Anderson (1987: 1349) posit that “one’s claim to a particular self is partly contingent on the imputed social identities of one’s associates.” When individuals associate with others whose identities are “inconsistent with their actual or desired self-conceptions, they may attempt to

83 distance themselves from those associations” (Snow and Anderson 1987: 1348). In sum,

“dissonance theory is more than simply a theory about consistency. It is essentially a theory about sense-making: how people try to make sense out of their beliefs, their environment, and their behavior” in ways that are consistent with who they are, or at least, how they view themselves.

Drawing on this framework, I examine how White partners’ in interracial relationships identify and make sense of the interpersonal racism they encounter in White settings.

METHODS The data for this chapter are drawn from semi-structured, in-depth interviews with 40 members of White/non-White heterosexual couples. To examine how White partners identify and make sense of expressions of racism in White spaces, I draw heavily on Whites’ responses.

However, I also draw on responses from partners of color to triangulate data collected from

Whites’ participants. As noted in earlier chapters, NVivo was used to assist with coding and data analysis. Using modified grounded theory approach, I sorted and organized data, followed by several rounds of coding using a constant comparison method. For this analysis, analytic memos were especially useful for summarizing ideas and noting inconsistencies and contradictions in participants’ narratives.

FINDINGS

White suburbs, rural areas, and the South

“You can feel the hostility. Like you could cut it with a knife.” –Reem, 35 year-old, Jordanian-American woman

Participants stated that, as a couple, they spent significant time in all White, or predominately White settings. As they explained, this was because their shared social networks were mostly White and the public spaces they occupied for leisure and social activities were also

84 predominately White. However, both partners of color and White partners characterized predominately White suburbs, rural areas, and the South more generally as racist spaces that were to be avoided when possible, or at the very least warranted caution. Several participants acknowledged that in part, this was driven by stereotypes. For instance, Terrell, a 39 year-old

Black man, stated that although he could not personally recall firsthand experiences with racism in the South, he was concerned about traveling to Florida for family vacation. “We’re going to

Florida, so I'm a little freaked out about that.” When I asked if the family was planning to drive,

Terrell responded, “No, no, no. We're flying. I'd be afraid to drive. [laughs] And, uh, we—Like whenever we're in Indiana, I'm like, ‘I'm going to stay in the car.’ [laughs] Yeah, everything has more to do with like my weird stereotypes of these places and everything.” Terrell’s mention of staying in the car in Indiana reflects several other participants statements about being nervous and anticipating racism when stopping at gas stations and restaurants in rural areas, both in the South and elsewhere.

Others based their leeriness of these areas on what they described as the “vibe,” or sensing racial tension. For instance, in the opening excerpt, Reem, who identifies as Jordanian-American, stated that she often did not “go into certain neighborhoods” on the outskirts of Cincinnati because it was worrisome how people of color might be treated. As she explained “sometimes you could feel the um, you can feel the hostility. Like you could cut it with a knife.” Similarly, Lauren, a 42 year-old White woman whose husband is Black, described “the vibe” and the discrimination she and her husband experienced at a restaurant in the Village of California, a small White neighborhood along the Ohio River on the outskirts of Cincinnati. “It was kind of a, for lack of a better word, ‘red-necky’ kind of vibe. And we went to this restaurant and I mean, we wound up leaving because it was so uncomfortable. People were staring at us, dirty looks, like whispering,

85 no service. No one was coming over and taking our order. We must’ve sat there for about fifteen minutes.”

Some participants shared experiences with more overt racism in these areas. For instance,

Emily described a run-in with police in a small town of Ohio in which Sangar, her Indian husband and two other Indian friends, were racially profiled and harassed:

We were in Peebles, Ohio. We had gone for summer solstice one year and we were looking for gas. I pulled into a gas station, trying to figure out if it was open or not. I was driving and Sangar and two of our other Indian friends were in my car and they got out and then a cop came up behind us. He told Sangar and his two friends that they needed to get their ID’s out and he needed to check their ID’s. And he didn’t ask me for mine and I’m the one driving the car! And I was thinking, that is insane! Like this is so racist. And I felt you know, way more injustice than he did. Like ‘No way. This is not okay. You can’t do that.’ Um, and there was no reason, you know, no justifiable cause for asking for that. But that was the first time I had seen that difference in treatment.

As she recalls this incident, Emily expresses shock and declares that she was more outraged than her husband. For some White partners, even those who acknowledge racism as a very real issue, witnessing it up close shattered their beliefs about how the world operates—beliefs shaped by their occupation of a racially privileged position. Although Sangar did not discuss this incident in his interview, what Emily describes as a seemingly unemotional reaction from her partner might reflect his awareness of the potential for police violence—something that Emily does not consider in her description of the event. Other White partners also expressed similar sentiments of wonder at their partners’ lack of outrage over instances of racism. This may reflect the newness of Whites’ exposure to racism and discrimination, something that partners of color have witnessed most of their lives. For people of color, encountering racism-related stressors throughout their lifetime often results in what scholars have identified as racial battle fatigue and has implications for how one responds (Smith, Hung, & Franklin, 2011). Whereas Whites express shock and outrage, the

86 amount of emotional and mental energy partners of color expend in response to racism may serve as a coping mechanism.

Beyond Emily’s experience, other participants also recalled encounters with explicit and hostile racism in these spaces. Ashley, whose partner Sam, identifies as Mexican American, was called a “nigger lover” at a liquor store in Covington, Kentucky, just across the bridge from

Cincinnati, as the couple shopped for drinks to take to a Thanksgiving gathering. Jonathan, who identifies as Asian American, recalled an encounter at an “off-road park down in Kentucky” where he rides his dirt bike. He explained, “so we were taking a bunch of quads and dirt bikes off and whatever and like there was this one guy. He said, ‘This chink’s out of place.’ We’re in the middle of nowhere in Kentucky so you know it’s a lot of farm boys that are, you know.” Jonathan’s statement about being “in the middle of nowhere” with “farm boys that are, you know,” reflects a shared sentiment among participants that White people outside of cities have less exposure to people of color, are less educated and less accepting of people of color, and as some stated, generally lack an awareness of other cultures. Although this is a common trope of rural areas and small towns, participants also relied on very real experiences with overt and hostile forms of racism to conclude that it was best practice to exercise caution in these areas and to avoid them when possible.

These explicit and overt forms of racism were readily identified by both partners of color and Whites. In their accounts, White partners distinguished themselves from “those Whites” and positioned themselves as more racially aware and nonracist. Thus, by identifying “those Whites” as racist and largely avoiding these areas, Whites maintained congruency in their attitudes and behaviors as moral White people who do not associate with racist Whites. These findings are perhaps unsurprising considering both the legacy of racial subjugation in the South, as well as

87 pervasive stereotypes that exist about rural and Southern Whites more generally. However, this finding becomes particularly interesting when contrasted with how partners characterized the

White settings in which they chose to spend time socially. Whereas partners of color noted the subtle forms of racism they experienced in these White settings, White partners first characterized these settings as comfortable spaces where racism was not an issue. However, they contradicted this in their narratives as they too recalled recurrent forms of subtle racism. This discussed in the following section.

Racism doesn’t happen here—except when it does

“I’m not often in situations where I’m going to be with people who would say something racist.” -Lauren, 42 year-old White woman

As mentioned earlier, most couples described their social networks and the settings they frequented for social and leisure activities as predominately White. When asked about their experiences in these White settings, nearly all partners of color described encountering subtle forms of racism and remarked that this was a common feature of their everyday lives. For instance,

Vinh, a 40 year old Korean-American, told me, “To be honest with you it’s like—I think it used to happen so much, that at this point I’m kind of numb to it? It doesn’t even, I just—Just ignore it, and like, just completely forget about it ten seconds later.” White partners on the other hand, stated that racism was uncharacteristic of the White settings they frequented socially with their partners.

They explained that this was because the Whites in these settings were either familiar to them or

“like-minded.” In other words, they saw these Whites as nonracist and similar to themselves.

However, throughout their interviews, they contradicted this narrative as they too recalled repeated encounters with more subtle forms of interpersonal racism. Below, I describe in detail three

88 specific cases of Whites with partners of varying racial backgrounds, which typify this broader pattern in the data.

Veronica Veronica has been married to her husband Vinh, who identifies as Vietnamese, for three years, though they were friends for several years before they began dating. During the interview,

Veronica noted that her marriage to Vinh had caused her to become “hypersensitive to people being offensive” and prompted her to begin analyzing Whites’ behaviors and statements that she would not have before. Although she stated that she did not believe any of their friends “really have those feelings” she shared comments made by White friends that she felt exhibited a tinge of racism:

Some of my White friends joke like, ‘You’re gonna have an Asian baby.’ Like that kind of stuff. Like I agree too. I was seeing kids that were mixed and a lot of them take on more Asian traits, but is it ignorant for you to say that or not? I catch myself doing a lot more of that. Trying to analyze if I think something really is or isn’t versus [pause] I mean I think the one thing that comes to mind when you think about interracial relationships is like overt racism and I don’t think we see a lot of that, but it’s the stuff like that. Like comments where I’m like is—is that racist or is that stupid? And most things I think come from a place of ignorance but not—it’s not like a [pause] angry, nasty you know? It’s more like, ‘I didn’t realize that would be something racist to say.’ You know, that kind of stuff.

Though Veronica and Vinh do not have children yet, Veronica told me that she had “heard of other people being asked if like their kids are adopted…because maybe the parent that they’re with doesn’t look as much like the kids.” Veronica found these stories concerning and used them to contextualize “jokes” from friends about having “an Asian baby.” The incongruence between her belief that their friends do not “really have those feelings” coupled with her uneasiness about the comments and jokes they make reflect cognitive dissonance. To reduce this dissonance, Veronica minimizes Whites’ comments by emphasizing that they are not “nasty” or ill-intentioned. Through her use of overt racism as a measuring stick for what constitutes “real” racism and her emphasis

89 on Whites’ intentions, Veronica minimizes the racism she perceives from White friends, a common expression of colorblind ideology (Bonilla-Silva 2006; 2002). Scholars of identity work argue that

“one’s claim to a particular self is partly contingent on the imputed social identities of one’s associates” (Snow and Anderson 1987: 1349). Thus, by minimizing the subtle racism of White friends, she is able to maintain conceptions of them as nonracist, and thereby protect her own self- concept as a good, nonracist White.

Ashley When I spoke with Ashley about what it was like for her and Sam, her partner of eight years who identifies as Mexican American, to spend most of their time in White settings she told me, “Usually if we are together we’re like at a show with our friends where most of the people in the room are friends, acquaintances, or at least you know, like-minded individuals.” Through her use of the term “like-minded,” Ashley implies similar political dispositions and racial values. Still, she stated that being in predominately White settings was likely more difficult for Sam. “I think he’s more conscious of it when he just looks around and it’s like ‘Oh, I’m the only brown person here.’” Ashley explained however, that their friends did not make it uncomfortable by drawing unwarranted attention to Sam’s racial difference: “No one in our friend group makes him aware of it. I mean we wouldn’t be friends with them if they were jerks [laughs].” Yet, during the interview she also stated that some friends make racial jokes that made her uncomfortable. For instance, she recalled a summer day by the pool in which a close friend joked that Sam was the “pool boy,” a common trope of Latino men. She also recalled jokes that had been made about Sam’s immigration status and the motives behind their relationship:

I think more so with people who feel like it’s okay to make a joke that’s hurtful because they’re friends with us. Like, ‘You guys know I don’t mean it to be mean.’ So I think they just joke. But like, ‘well, it’s still’—Like, people making a joke about him dating me for

his green card or something. Like, ‘No, he was born here and also that’s a stupid thing to say.’ The harmful impact of these racial jokes is reflected in Sam’s account of being singled out throughout his life for his Mexican heritage. Sam spoke very candidly about how his experiences as a first-generation immigrant shaped his identity in significant ways. He described growing up in a Mexican family surrounded by White peers in his school and middle-class White suburban neighborhood and recalled a feeling of in-betweenness—never feeling fully Mexican or fully

American. He also spoke about the violence of Whiteness when he described the ways his White peers singled him out: “I was the only Mexican [pauses] American growing up. And I got picked on a lot cause of that. Um, up in through junior high.” When asked about the kinds of things that happened, he replied, “All sorts of things. People would pick fights, um, call me names.” Thus,

Sam being subjected to racial “jokes” by his White peers as an adult is a continuation of a life- long history of interpersonal racism from Whites.13

In addition, Sam shared that the couples’ White friends attended rallies for Black Lives

Matter in Cincinnati, providing further evidence that by “like-minded,” Ashley meant to imply that White friends shared similar political orientations and racial attitudes. However, Sam stated that he felt these White friends were “kind of sick of me talking about the racial inequality. Things like that.” He described struggling to dialogue with them about White privilege, saying that “they know it exists, but they don’t know they have it.” The difference in Ashley and Sam’s

13 It would be remiss not to mention that at the time of data collection in 2016, Donald Trump was campaigning for president. As other scholars have argued, racial meanings not only shift across space, but across time based on changes to the historical and sociopolitical landscape. During his campaign (and later during his presidency) Trump’s rhetoric fueled hostility towards many groups, but particularly Mexican immigrants. For instance, in 2015 Trump kicked off his presidential campaign saying of Mexican immigrants, “They are not our friend…They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapists. And some, I assume, are good people” (Time Staff 2015). Trump’s promise to build a wall between Mexico and the United States garnered support from voters, with chants of “build the wall” roaring from his campaign rallies. Thus, racial jokes made by White friends about Sam’s immigration status and the motives behind his relationship with his White American girlfriend are not only incredibly insensitive but reflect and perpetuate broader racist ideologies about immigrants. 91 characterizations of these settings is telling. Ashley assumes the best of Whites’ due to their

“progressive” or “liberal” politics. On the other hand, Sam feels that in spite of their politics, they continue to invoke their White privilege to silence discussions of racial inequality. In sum,

Ashley’s stories of “hurtful” racial jokes are incongruent with her assertion that the White friends and settings in which they spend time are nonracist. Snow and Anderson (1987: 1348) argue that

“selective association with other individuals” is a form of identity work wherein individuals construct and maintain a sense of who they are. Thus, characterizing the behaviors of “like- minded” friends and acquaintances as racist, would reflect poorly on Ashley’s self-concept as nonracist.

Taylor During her interview, twenty-seven year old Taylor explained that she and Brandon, her

Black partner of three years, often avoided the suburbs where she felt that they were more likely to receive hostile stares from “older Whites.” Instead, she stated that they more regularly socialized in Over-the-Rhine, a rapidly gentrifying neighborhood in downtown Cincinnati where streets are lined with expensive condos, bars, breweries, cafes, restaurants, and pricey boutiques. As she explained, being interracial in this setting was comfortable because the bars they frequented were

“new and hip” and “there’s all kinds of people.” Even when Brandon was “the only Black person,” in the bars, Taylor explained that there may “be people from other races there. Or, there are just so many like hipsters that no one notices anything.” Taylor implies that the presence of non-White bodies and/or hipsters14 in this setting are indicators of “progressive” racial values, which distinguish it from less progressive suburbs. As Mayorga-Gallo (2014; 2017) notes, people of color are often tokenized as representatives of diversity and serve as indicators of racial inclusion and

14A term used to describe a contemporary subculture defined by its aesthetic, tastes, and counter-hegemonic beliefs. 92 acceptance. Simultaneously, Taylor draws on colorblind framing to suggest that race is a nonfactor in this setting.

Yet, during her interview Taylor also shared that White women in this setting sometimes sexually objectify her partner. “Like girls that are at the bar, they’ll say things. Like, this one girl was like really drunk and went up to him and was like ‘I just want to know if it’s true about Black guys.’ And I’m like ‘excuse me?’” Taylor’s characterization of this setting as progressive, nonracist, or even “colorblind” to the point that Brandon’s Blackness and their interraciality may go unnoticed, is in direct conflict with her account of White women’s sexual objectification of him on the basis of race. Moreover, Taylor stated that at the time she felt “this isn’t something that’s worth me freaking out about so I just looked at her and she is just going on and I was like ‘I’m not even going to deal with this.’” Aronson (1968) argues that the effects of cognitive dissonance can be especially “strong when a person’s freely chosen behavior violates an important element of the self-concept” (Thibodeau and Aronson 1992: 592). Taylor stated that she chooses to spend time in this setting, as opposed to more suburban settings, because she identifies with the perceived progressive values of this downtown neighborhood. In order to reduce the cognitive dissonance created by the inconsistency between her perception of this neighborhood and the racism directed towards her partner, Taylor minimizes the incident. In doing so, she is able to maintain her conception of the setting, preserving her self-concept as nonracist despite her choice to spend time there.

In addition, although Taylor stated during the interview that she was aware of the idea that

White women seek out sex with Black men who are stereotyped as having large penises, she did not indicate if she was familiar with the history this stereotype. In the years following the end of legal slavery, racist discourses constructed Black masculinity as animalistic and hypersexual. In

93 contrast, White femininity was constructed as innocent, pure, and in need of protection.

Consequently, stereotypes of Black men as hypersexual were used to justify extreme forms of

White violence and the continued subjugation of Black men. Moreover, Collins (2004: 161) argues that pervasive contemporary images of Black men reduce them to bodies “and body parts, especially the penis” and showcase “Black men’s bodies as sex objects.” Thus, Taylor’s minimization of the young woman’s use of an innuendo to refer to the size of Brandon’s penis ignores how this kind of behavior perpetuates a long and violent history of sexualized stereotypes of Black masculinity.15

DISCUSSION For the last several decades, scholars have examined how Whites inhabit and experience

Whiteness as a racial identity. Although early studies suggest that Whites are unable to conceive of their race or how they are implicated in race as a social system, more recent studies have suggested otherwise. Though models of White identity vary, empirical evidence suggests that prolonged and meaningful interracial contact can expose Whites to the racism faced by people of color, thrusting some Whites towards racial awareness. This is well established in studies of

Whites who are members of interracial couples and multiracial families. Recent insights from

Twine (2010) and Steinbugler (2012) demonstrate how some White partners, through their relationships with people of color, develop racial literacy—a critical racial awareness that facilitates an advanced understanding of complex racial meanings. Although this focus on White

15 Based on my interview with Taylor, it seemed that navigating race and racism caused tension in her relationship with Brandon. Although at the time of the interview Taylor agreed to put me in touch with Brandon to schedule an interview, she did not follow through despite multiple attempts to contact her.

94 partners with racial literacy has provided valuable insights, questions remain as to how other White partners integrate understandings of racism into their everyday lives. Moreover, considering that racial animus in the era of colorblindness is most commonly expressed in subtle and implicit ways, we know less about how White partners identify and make sense of the interpersonal racism they encounter from other Whites.

In this study, I interviewed forty partners in White/non-White relationships about their time spent in White settings. An analysis of participants’ narratives revealed that both partners of color and Whites are leery of White suburbs, rural areas, and the South due to common tropes, as well as tangible experiences with overt racism. By constructing rural, suburban, and Southern Whites as racist and avoiding these areas, Whites maintained congruence in their beliefs and behaviors and cognitive dissonance is avoided. In addition, by disassociating themselves with “those Whites” in “those spaces,” Whites maintain conceptions of themselves as good, moral, and nonracist. When asked about the predominately White settings couples frequented socially, the narratives of partners of color and Whites diverged. Partners of color described instances of more subtle racism in these settings and indicated that this was something they had experienced for most of their lives in interactions with Whites. White partners on the other hand, first characterized these spaces as comfortable settings in which they did not have to be concerned about racism, but then identified recurrent encounters with more subtle and implicit forms of racism. I argue that this cognitive dissonance leads Whites to minimize these encounters in order to maintain conceptions of others, and thereby themselves, as good, nonracist Whites.

So, what does this tell us about how Whites identify and makes sense of interpersonal racism from other Whites? In this study, Whites more readily and easily identified hostile and overt forms of racism and characterized it as something that happens “over there” from “those

95 people” (Mayorga-Gallo 2014). Doing so disassociated and minimized the existence of racism in their own social worlds, which as stated above, allowed White partners to maintain a positive self- concept as moral and nonracist. Further, the inconsistencies in Whites’ narratives highlight several problems in Whites’ thinking about interpersonal racism. First, Whites’ minimization of subtle racism reflects a continued belief that overt and hostile expressions of interpersonal racism constitute “real” racism. This framing fails to acknowledge how racism in subtle and implicit forms are expressions of racial discourses that perpetuate racist ideology. Moreover, it ignores its pervasiveness and harmful impact on people of color. Second, White partners’ perceptions of friends and acquaintances as “like-minded” racial progressives who value diversity lead them to emphasize Whites’ intentions when they encountered subtle forms of racism. As Smith and

Mayorga-Gallo (2017: 894) argue in their study of the impact of diversity ideology on policy preferences, “people who value diversity are viewed as good, ostensibly nonracist with laudable intentions.” Partners’ focus on offenders’ intentions diverts attention away from what the person has said or done, and instead, makes it an issue of who a person is—whether they are a good or bad person. This likely furthered Whites reluctance to name subtle racism as such. As society shifts towards one which celebrates diversity (Bell and Hartmann 2007; Mayorga-Gallo 2014), this type of reductionist thinking may make it especially difficult for Whites partners to identify and make sense of interpersonal racism in everyday encounters.

Finally, in addition to maintaining a positive self-concept, it is possible that Whites ability to identify more subtle forms of racism alongside their reluctance to name it, may reflect White partners’ desire to avoid confrontation with familiar Whites. Because White partners consider themselves intolerant of racism, to identify other Whites’ behaviors or comments as racist would require them to do something about it. Challenging interpersonal racism can create tension and

96 many become defensive, exhibiting White fragility when confronted which can make dialoguing about racism difficult (DiAngelo 2011). Although some partners did discuss strategies for challenging interpersonal racism, they also described rationalizing, concealing, and ignoring it. In all these ways, Whites narratives highlight obstacles for making sense of, and challenging racism at the micro-level. Future research should explore how White interracial partners not only identify instances of interpersonal racism, but how they respond.

CHAPTER V

CONCLUSION

For partners in interracial relationships, high levels of racial segregation in the U.S. mean that couples must often navigate racially homogenous spaces wherein either partner is the only, or one of few members of their race. In this study I set out to examine how partners in interracial relationships experience interactional processes as they navigate race and racism in their daily lives. Specifically, I asked, how do interracial couples believe their interraciality shapes the way they are perceived by others in interaction? How do White partners consciously think about and manage their White identity in non-White spaces? How do White partners make sense of the interpersonal racism they observe from other Whites in their social worlds? Below, I provide a review of findings from each chapter and discuss the overall implications of this study, as well as its limitations and directions for future work.

In this study, I brought together racial formation theory and structural symbolic interactionism to theoretically ground dyadic double consciousness and provide a more developed definition, followed by an analysis of couples’ narratives which illuminated how dyadic double consciousness operates. Findings extend our understanding of how race shapes interactional processes for interracial couples. Not only does race shape how we read others and how others read us, but also, how we perceive others’ perceptions of us. Couples responses reflected a significant amount of internal processing—analyzing and decoding interactions, which I argue is a form of identity work. Moreover, couples’ dyadic double consciousness is intersectional, highlighting how couples’ everyday interactions are tied up in broader meanings of race, gender, class, and sexuality.

Previous literature has examined how White partners in interracial relationships experience a shift towards racial awareness as a result of their relationships with people of color. My data suggest that dyadic double consciousness is in part, co-constructed, as participants described dialoguing, deconstructing, and processing interactions with one another. In other words, both partners contributed to the development of dyadic double consciousness. In cases where couples did not exhibit dyadic double consciousness, it was often the case that one partner thought about how others perceived them as a couple but were discouraged from doing so by their partner, who did not want to think about or discuss others’ perceptions. In these case, both White partners and partners of color discouraged discussion and avoided thinking about others’ perceptions. This warrants further exploration. How do partners own racial awareness shape exchanges within their relationship and how does this impact couples’ dyadic double consciousness? Also of importance is, whether and how dyadic double consciousness serves as a tool for interracial couples in interaction. Does it provide couples’ greater agency in interaction? Do couples use it to read interactions and make behavioral modifications to circumvent negative interactional outcomes?

These questions require further exploration if we are to fully understand how interracial couples navigate race and racism at the micro-level.

Further, findings from this study contribute to literature on racial identity work which has largely overlooked Whites, as well as findings which challenge early White identity scholars’ assertions that Whites do not think about race. My findings indicate that they do—especially when their Whiteness becomes salient. Studying Whites experiences in non-White spaces provides a rich opportunity to examine race as an identity with associated meanings that can be manipulated in interaction—not only by people of color, but by White individuals as well. Findings suggest that

Whites engage in impression management in non-White spaces using language, food, manner, and

99 appearance to construct a “good” White identity. By modifying their behaviors according to norms in non-White spaces, Whites distanced themselves from associations of Whiteness with cultural ignorance and incompetence. Instead, they worked to establish themselves as cultural relativists, open and willing to move beyond a White racial frame. These impression management strategies were also used to dilute perceived racial and class differences and establish a sense of belonging in spaces where their Whiteness marked them as outsiders.

Previous studies on the racial identity work of people of color highlight the fluidity of racial identity by illustrating how individuals deploy racial signifiers in interaction to establish authentic membership with racial groups and to navigate shifting racial meanings across contexts. Findings from this study suggest that White actors work to blur racial-ethnic boundaries in interaction by consciously constructing and performing a certain “type” of White identity that marks them as belonging in non-White spaces. For a smaller number of Whites, who recognized racial power dynamics in interaction, impression management strategies were used to distance themselves from associations of Whiteness as racially oppressive, and instead construct a “good” and racially aware

White identity. The former compels us to further explore the messiness of race and racial boundaries, and the performative nature of racial identity. The latter calls for further examination of how Whites can enact racial awareness in interaction in ways that challenge racial inequality.

Future work should explore the process and impact of Whites’ enactment of a racially aware identity in micro-level interactions, not just within interracial relationships, but within broader institutions. As Essed (1991) argues, it is individual acts that produce structural outcomes. Thus, it is critical that we do not neglect how micro-level interactions can work to challenge racial inequality.

100

In addition, literature on White racial identity suggests that through prolonged and meaningful interracial contact, Whites are exposed to the routine racism people of color face in their everyday lives. As a result, some Whites experience a shift towards racial awareness. By shifting attention to couples’ narratives about the racism they face in White settings, this study sheds light on how White partners integrate their understandings of racism into their everyday lives. Findings suggest that White partners—even those who understood racism as having structural components—resorted to framing racism as a moral issue as they worked to construct their identity as a “good” White. This is reflected both in Whites’ impression management strategies discussed above, and in findings from chapter four in which White partners distinguished between “bad” Whites in rural areas and “good” “nonracist” Whites in their social worlds (in spite of their subtle racism). In other words, despite some Whites’ ability to recognize racism as structural, their desire to maintain conceptions of others and themselves as nonracist, ultimately lead them frame racism as a moral issue. Consequently, White partners often minimized and rationalized subtle forms of interpersonal racism, thereby perpetuating racism at the micro-level.

In line with others who have qualitatively studied interracial couples, and in consideration of broader racial disparities, I too conclude that increasing rates of interracial intimacy do little to move the U.S. towards racial equality. Perhaps increases in interracial intimacy are evidence of a societal shift towards diversity ideology, where racial differences are more accepted and celebrated. Even so, as others point out, the acceptance and celebration of racial difference without attention to power structures, will not reduce broader racial inequalities. In sum, future work should further examine how White partners’ understanding of racism impacts the ways they construct their White identity.

101

In light of these findings, it is important to consider how the sample shaped the data that were collected. First, the use of purposive snowball sampling generated bias in the sample. My position as a graduate student has largely shaped my social networks in Cincinnati. Thus, heavy reliance on snowball sampling created a sample that was overwhelmingly middle class in terms of education and income level. Second, the Whites in this study described taking college courses in which they were exposed to more critical understandings of race and racism. Whites and non-

White participants also spoke of reading books and listening to podcasts on issues related to race and interracial dating. Many others described engaging in discussions about racial issues with their partners and several others described attending Black Lives Matter rallies and meetings in

Cincinnati. Thus, in many ways, it is unlikely that these couples and the identity work they engaged in as they navigate race and racism in their everyday lives is reflective of the thoughts and behaviors of the average interracial couple. Third, the majority of my sample are a part of the millennial generation—a generation that “has been socialized to appreciate ‘diversity’ and

‘diverse’ spaces (Smith & Mayorga-Gallo, 2017: 894). This too, likely contributed to participants’ awareness of race in interaction.

Relatedly, while findings from this study suggest that early studies of White identity overstated the notion that Whites do not think about race, it is important to consider the effects of the sociohistorical and political climate in which this data was collected. During the spring and summer of 2016, Donald Trump was campaigning for president and engaging in political rhetoric that stoked racial animosities. This resulted in protests all over the country. In addition, Black

Lives Matter protests were erupting in response to police killings of unarmed Black men and women, both within Cincinnati and beyond. Also, in June of 2016, right in the middle of data collection, video footage of the shooting death of Alton Sterling was circulated widely,

102 immediately followed by the shooting of Philando Castile at the beginning of July, in which the immediate aftermath was broadcasted live on Facebook. These deaths were but two instances in a series of other high profile police shootings that swarmed local, national, and social media. My point is that while this sample is unique in ways that may have contributed to their awareness of race, the social and political climate during the time of data collection likely increased participants’ attention to race and racism simply because it was nearly impossible to ignore. As race scholars argue, racial meanings and understandings shift across space and time according to sociopolitical dynamics. I posit that the time in which I was collecting data likely impacted both how, and how much, participants thought about race and racism.

In addition, the sample for this study included an over-representation of Asian men and

White women couples. In part, I attribute this to the use of snowball sampling, as several of these couples knew one another. This over-representation presented an opportunity to explore the experiences of a racial pairing that remains low in the broader population. Additionally, because most studies of interracial couples focus exclusively on Black-White couples, the inclusion of these couples, as well as other racial pairings, shed light on both the similarities and differences in how interracial couples experience interactional processes. At the same time, because the sample lacked sufficient representation of couples from other racial/gender backgrounds (i.e. White/Non-

White Hispanic or Latino, White and Indian, and White and Middle-Eastern) additional research is needed to further explicate how the racial and gender makeup of interracial couples uniquely shapes interactional processes. Finally, this study sheds light on how couples navigate race and racism in a largely Black/White mid-Western city. Future research conducted in areas such as the

South or the West Coast would contribute to our understanding of how interracial couples experiences of interactional processes are shaped by shifts in demographics and racial meanings across various regions.

103

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Aronson, Elliot. 1968. “Dissonance Theory: Progress and Problems.” Pp. 5–27 in Cognitive

Consistency Theories: A Source Book, edited by R. P. Abelson et al. Skokie: Rand

McNally.

Bates, Littisha A. and Jennifer E. Glick. 2013. “Does It Matter If Teachers and Schools Match

the Student? Racial and Ethnic Disparities in Problem Behaviors.” Social Science Research

42(5):1180–90.

Bell, Joyce M. and Douglas Hartmann. 2007. “Diversity in Everyday Discourse: The Cultural

Ambiguities and Consequences of ‘Happy Talk.’” American Sociological Review

72(6):895–914.

Du Bois, W. E. B. 1897. “Strivings of the Negro People.” The Atlantic.

Bonilla-Silva, Eduardo. 2006. Racism Without Racists: Color-Blind Racism and the Persistence

of Racial Inequality in the United States. Lanham: Rowman and Littlefield.

Bonilla-Silva, Eduardo. 2002. “The Linguistics of Color Blind Racism: How to Talk Nasty about

Blacks without Sounding ‘Racist.’” Critical Sociology 28(2):41–64.

Bonilla-Silva, Eduardo and Amanda E. Lewis. 1999. “The New Racism: Racial Structure in the

United States, 1960s–1990s.” Pp. 55–101 in Race, Ethnicity, and Nationality in the United

States: Toward the Twenty-first Century, edited by P. Wong. Boulder.

Brekhus, Wayne H. 2003. Peacocks, Chameleons, Centaurs: Gay Suburbia and the Gramma of

Social Identity. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Bruce Jr., Dickson D. 1992. “W. E. B. Du Bois and the Idea of Double Consciousness.”

American Literature 64(2):299–309.

Burr, Vivien. 1995. An Introduction to Social Constructionism. London: Routledge.

104

Cable, Dustin. 2013. The Racial Dot Map. Charlottesville.

Callero, Peter L. 2003. “The Sociology of the Self.” Annual Review of Sociology 29:115–33.

Carbado, Devon W. and Mitu Gulati. 2013. Acting White? Rethinking Race in “Post-Racial”

America. New York: Oxford University Press.

Cashin, Sheryll. 2017. “How Interracial Love Is Saving America.” The New York Times.

Retrieved (https://www.nytimes.com/2017/06/03/opinion/sunday/how-interracial-love-is-

saving-america.html).

Childs, Erica Chito. 2005. Navigating Interracial Borders: Black-White Couples and Their

Social Worlds. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press.

Chou, Rosalind S. 2012. Asin American Sexual Politics. Lanham: Rowman and Littlefield.

Chrisman-Campbell, Kimberly. 2016. “Sneakers Have Always Been Political Shoes.” The

Atlantic. Retrieved (https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2016/12/sneakers-

have-always-been-political-shoes/511628/).

Collins, Patricia Hill. 2004a. Black Sexual Politics: African Americans, Gender, and the New

Racism. New York: Routledge.

Collins, Patricia Hill. 2004b. Black Sexual Politics: African Americans, Gender, and the New

Racism. New York: Routledge Press.

Collins, Patricia Hill. 2016. “Du Bois’s Contested Legacy.” Ethnic and Racial Studies

39(8):1398–1406.

Cooley, Charles Horton. 1967. Human Nature and the Social Order. New York: Schocken

Books.

Cottle, Simon. 2000. Ethnic Minorities and the Media: Changing Cultural Boundaries.

Maidenhead: Open University Press.

105

Croll, Paul R. 2007. “Modeling Determinants of White Racial Identity: Results from a New

National Survey.” Social Forces 86(2):613–42.

Cross Jr., William E. et al. 2017. “Identity Work: Enactment of Racial-Ethnic Identity in

Everyday Life.” Identity 17(1):1–12.

DaCosta, Kimberly McLain. 2007. Making Multiracials: State, Family, and Market in the

Redrawing of the Color Linele. Stanford: Stanford University Press.

Dalmage, Heather M. 2000. Tripping on the Color Line: Black-White Multiracial Families in a

Racially Divided World. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press.

Davidson, Julia O’Connell and Jacqueline Sanchez Taylor. 1999. “Fantasy Islands: Exploring the

Demand for Sex Tourism.” Pp. 37–54 in Sun, Sex, and Gold: Tourism and Sex Work in the

Caribbean, edited by K. Kempadoo. Lanham: Rowman and Littlefield.

DiAngelo, Robin. 2011. “White Fragility by.” International Journal of Critical Pedagogy

3(3):54–70.

Doane, Ashley. 2014. “Shades of Colorblindness: Rethinking Racial Ideology in the United

States.” Pp. 15–38 in The Colorblind Screen: Race and Television in Contemporary

America, edited by S. Turner and S. Nilson. New York: New York University Press.

Essed, Philomena. 1991. Understanding Everyday Racism: An Interdisciplinary Approach.

Newsbury Park: Sage Publications.

Feagin, Joe R. 2013. The White Racial Frame: Centuries of Racial Framing and Counter-

Framing. New York: Routledge.

Ferber, Abby L. 1998. White Man Falling: Race, Gender, and White Supremacy. Lanham:

Rowman and Littlefield.

Festinger, Leon. 1957. A Theory of Cognitive Dissonance. Standford: Stanford University Press.

106

Fox, R. 2003. “Food and Eating: An Anthropological Perspective.” Social Issues Research

Center 1–22. Retrieved (http://sirc.org/publik/foxfood.pdf).

Frankenberg, Ruth. 2001. “The Mirage of an Unmarked Whiteness.” Pp. 72–96 in The Making

and Unmaking of Whiteness, edited by B. B. Rasmussen, E. Klinenberg, I. J. Nexica, and

M. Wray. Durham: Duke University Press.

Frankenberg, Ruth. 1993. White Women, Race Matters: The Social Construction of Whiteness.

Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

Glaser, B. G. and A. L. Strauss. 1999. Discovery of Grounded Theory: Strategies for Qualitative

Research. New York: Routledge Press.

Goffman, Erving. 1959. The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life. New York: Anchor Books.

Goyette, Braden. 2013. “Cheerios Commercial Featuring Mixed Race Family Gets Racist

Backlash.” HuffPost. Retrieved February 26, 2018

(https://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/05/31/cheerios-commercial-racist-

backlash_n_3363507.html).

Greater Cincinnati Urban League. 2015. The State of Black Cincinnati 2015: Two Cities.

Cincinnati.

Hartigan Jr., John. 1997. “Locating White Detroit.” in Dis-Placing Whiteness: Essays in Social

and Cultural Criticism, edited by R. Frankenberg. Durham: Duke University Press.

Hartmann, Douglas, Joseph Gerteis, and Paul R. Croll. 2009. “An Empirical Assessment of

Whiteness Theory: Hidden from How Many?” Social Problems2 56(3):403–24.

Hill, LaBarron K., Ihori Kobayashi, and Joel W. Hughes. 2007. “Perceived Racism and

Ambulatory Blood Pressure in African American College Students.” Journal of Black

Psychology 33(4):404–21.

107

Hooks, Bell. 1992. “Eating the Other: Desire and Resistance.” Pp. 21–39 in Black Looks: Race

and Representation. Boston: South End Press.

Jackson, Eric R. 2018. “The History of African Americans in Cincinnati.” The Voice of Black

Cincinnati. Retrieved (https://thevoiceofblackcincinnati.com/african-americans-in-

cincinnati/).

Jackson, Ronald L. 2006. Scripting the Black Masculine Body: Identity, Discourse, and Racial

Politics in Popular Media. Albany: State University of New York Press.

Johnson, Maisha Z. 2016. “6 Ways Well-Intentioned People Whitesplain Racism (And Why

They Need to Stop).” Everyday Feminism. Retrieved

(https://everydayfeminism.com/2016/02/how-people-whitesplain-racism/).

Jordan-Zachery, Julia S. 2009. Black Women, Cultural Images, and Social Policy. New York:

Taylor and Francis.

Kennedy, Randall. 2003. Interracial Intimacies: Sex, Marriage, Identity, and Adoption. New

York: Pantheon Books.

Kent, Alexander and Thomas C. Frohlich. 2015. “The 9 Most Segregated Cities In America.”

Huffpost Business. Retrieved (https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/the-9-most-

segregated-cities-in-america_us_55df53e9e4b0e7117ba92d7f).

Khanna, Nikki and Cathryn Johnson. 2010. “Passing as Black: Racial Identity Work among

Biracial Americans.” Social Psychology Quarterly 73(4):380–97.

Killian, Kyle D. 2013. Interracial Couples, Intimacy, and Therapy: Crossing Racial Borders.

New York: Columbia Univerity Press.

King-O’Riain, Rebecca Chiyoko. 2006. Pure Beauty: Judging Race in Japanese American

Beauty Pageants. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

108

Laer, Koen Van and Maddy Janssens. 2011. “Ethnic Minority Professionals’ Experiences with

Subtle Discrimination in the Workplace.” Human Relations 64(9):1203–27.

Lewis, Amanda E. 2004. “‘What Group?’ Studying Whites and Whitness in the Era of ‘Color

Blindness.’” Sociological Theory 22(4):625–46. Retrieved

(http://www.jstor.org/stable/3648936).

Livingston, Gretchen and Anna Brown. 2017. Intermarriage in the U.S. 50 Years After Loving v.

Virginia.

Lopez, Ian Haney. 2006. White by Law: The Legal Construction of Race. New York: New York

University Press.

Luke, Carmen and Allan Luke. 1998. “Interracial Families: Difference Within Difference.”

Ethnic and Racial Studies1 21(4):728–74.

Mahtani, Minelle. 2002. “Tricking the Border Guards: Performing Race.” Environment and

Planning D: Society and Space 20(4):425–40.

Malat, Jennifer, Farrah Jacquez, and George M. Slavich. 2017. “Measuring Lifetime Stress

Exposure and Protective Factors in Life Course Research on Racial Inequality and Birth

Outcomes.” Stress 20(4):379–85.

Malat, Jennifer, Sarah Mayorga-Gallo, and David R. Williams. 2018. “The Effects of Whiteness

on the Health of Whites in the USA.” Social Science and Medicine 199:148–56.

Marchetti, Gina. 1993. Romance and the “Yellow Peril”: Race, Sex, and Discursive Strategies in

Hollywood Fiction. Los Angeles: University of California Press.

Mayorga-Gallo, Sarah. 2014. Behind the White Picket Fence: Power and Privilege in a

Multiethnic Neighborhood. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press.

McCabe, Brian J. 2016. No Place Like Home: Wealth, Community, and the Politics of

109

Homeownership. New York: Oxford University Press.

McCall, George J. and J. L. Simmons. 1978. Identities and Interactions. New York: Free Press.

McIntosh, Peggy. 1989. “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack.” Peace and

Freedom, 10–12.

McNamara, Robert, Maria Tempenis, and Beth Walton. 1999. Crossing the Line: Interracial

Couples in the South. Westport: Greenwood.

Mead, George Herbert. 1934. Mind, Self, and Society. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Miville, Marie L., Madonna G. Constantine, Matthew F. Baysden, and Gloria So-Lloyd. 2005.

“Chameleon Changes: An Exploration of Racial Identity Themes of Multiracial People.”

Journal of Counseling Psychology 52(4):507–16.

Molina, Natalia. 2014. How Race Is Made in America Immigration, Citizenship, and the

Historical Power of Racial Scripts. Berkley: University of California Press.

Nagel, Joane. 2003. Race, Ethnicity, and Sexuality: Intimate Intersections, Forbidden Frontiers.

New York: Oxford University Press.

Nemoto, Kumiko. 2009. Racing Romance: Love, Powe, and Desire Among Asian

American/White Couples. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press.

O’Brien, Eileen. 2001. Whites Confront Racism: Antiracists and Their Paths to Action. Lanham:

Rowman and Littlefield.

Okamura, Jonathan Y. 1981. “Situational Ethnicity.” Ethnic and Racial Studies 4(4):452–65.

Oliver, Melvin L. and Thomas M. Shapiro. 2006. Black Wealth, White Wealth: A New

Perspective on Racial Inequality. New York: Routledge.

Omi, Michael and Howard Winant. 1994. Racial Formation in the United States: From the

1960s to the 1990s. New York: Routledge.

110

Pease, Barbara and Allan Pease. 2004. The Definitive Book of Body Language: The Hidden

Meaning Behind People’s Gestures and Expressions. New York: Bantam Dell.

Pérez-Peña, Richard. 2016. “Upbeat Interracial Ad for Old Navy Leads to Backlash. Twice.” The

New York Times. Retrieved February 25, 2018

(https://www.nytimes.com/2016/05/05/us/upbeat-interracial-ad-for-old-navy-leads-to-

backlash-twice.html).

Picca, Leslie Houts and Joe R. Feagin. 2007. Two-Faced Racism: Whites in the Backstage and

Frontstage. New York: Routledge Press.

Poplack, Shana. 1981. “Syntactic Structure and Social Function of Codeswitching.” Pp. 169–84

in Latino Language and Communicative Behavior, edited by R. P. Duran. Norwood, NJ:

ABLEX.

Reinharz, Shulamit and Susan E. Chase. 2001. “Interviewing Women.” Pp. 221–38 in Handbook

of Interview Research: Context and Method, edited by J. F. Gubrium and J. A. Holstein.

Thousand Oaks: Sage Publications.

Roberts, Laura Morgan. 2005. “Changing Faces : Professional Image Changing Construction in

Diverse Settings Organizational.” The Academy of Management Review 30(4):685–711.

Rockquemore, Kerry Ann and David L. Brunsma. 2008. Beyond Black: Biracial Identity in

America. Lanham: Rowman and Littlefield.

Romo, Rebecca. 2011. “Between Black and Brown: Blaxican (Black-Mexican) Multiracial

Identity in California.” Journal of Black Studies 42(3):402–26. Retrieved

(https://doi.org/10.1177/0021934710376172).

Ryan, Camille L. and Kurt Bauman. 2016. Educational Attainment in the United States: 2015.

Saldaña, Johnny. 2009. The Coding Manual for Qualitative Researchers. SAGE.

111

Smith, Candis Watts and Sarah Mayorga-Gallo. 2017. “The New Principle-Policy Gap: How

Diversity Ideology Subverts Diversity Initiatives.” Sociological Perspectives 60(5):889–

911. Retrieved (https://doi.org/10.1177/0731121417719693).

Smith, William A., Walter R. Allen, and Lynette L. Danley. 2007. “Assume the Position…You

Fit the Description: Psychological Experiences and Racial Fatigue among African American

Male College Students.” American Behavioral Scientist 51(4):551–78.

Smith, William A., Man Hung, and Jeremy D. Franklin. 2011. “Racial Battle Fatigue and the

MisEducation of Black Men: Racial Microaggressions , Societal Problems , and

Environmental Stress.” 80(1):63–82.

Snow, David A. and Leon Anderson. 1987. “Identity Work Among the Homeless: The Verbal

Construction and Avowal of Personal Identities.” American Journal of Sociology

92(6):1336–71.

Solorzano, Daniel, Miguel Ceja, and Tara Yosso. 2000. “Critical Race Theory, Racial

Microaggressions, and Campus Racial Climate: The Experiences of African American

College Students.” The Journal of Negro Education 69(1/2):60–73.

Steinbugler, Amy C. 2012. Beyond Loving: Intimate Racework in Lesbian, Gay, and Straight

Interracial Relationships. New York: Oxford University Press.

Stets, Jan E. and Peter J. Burke. 2003. “A Sociological Approach to Self and Identity.” Pp. 128–

52 in Handbook of Self and Identity, edited by M. R. Leary and J. P. Tangey. New York:

Guildford Press.

Stets, Jan E. and Peter J. Burke. 2000. “Identity Theory and Social Identity Theory.” Social

Psychology Quarterly 63(3):224–37.

Stryker, Sheldon. 1980. Symbolic Interactions: A Social Structural Version. Menlo Park:

112

Benjamin/Cummings.

Sue, Derald Wing et al. 2007. “Racial Microaggressions in Everyday Life: Implications for

Clinical Practice.” American Psychologist 62(4):271–86.

Terry, Robert W. 1981. “The Negative Impact on White Values.” Pp. 119–51 in Impacts of

Racism on White Americans, edited by B. P. Bowser and R. G. Hunt. Beverly Hills: SAGE.

Thibodeau, Ruth and Elliot Aronson. 1992. “Taking a Closer Look: Reasserting the Role of the

Self-Concept in Dissonance Theory.” Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin

18(5):591–602.

Thomas, William I. and Dorothy Swaine Thomas. 1928. The Child in America: Behavior

Problems and Programs. New York: Knopf.

Time Staff. 2015. “Here’s Donald Trump’s Presidential Announcement Speech.” Time.

Retrieved (http://time.com/3923128/donald-trump-announcement-speech/).

Twine, France Winddance. 2010. A White Side of Black Britain: Interracial Intimacy and Racial

Literacy. Durham: Duke University Press.

Twine, France Winddance and Amy C. Steinbugler. 2006. “The Gap between Whites and

Whiteness: Interracial Intimacy and Racial Literacy.” Du Bois Review 3(2):341–63.

United States Census Bureau. 2010. General Population and Housing Characteristics: 2010.

Washington, D.C.

Wang, Wendy. 2012. “The Rise of Intermarriage Rates, Characteristics Vary by Race and

Gender.”

Warren, John T. 2001. “Doing Whiteness: On the Performative Dimensions of Race in the

Classroom.” Communication Education 50(2):91–108.

Willie, Sarah Susannah. 2003. Acting Black: College, Identity, and the Performance of Race.

113

New York: Routledge Press.

Yancey, George. 2007. Interracial Contact and Social Change. Boulder: Lynne Rienner

Publishers.

Yosso, Tara J., William A. Smith, Miguel Ceja, and Daniel G. Solorzano. 2009. “Critical Race

Theory, Racial Microaggressions, and Campus Racial Climate for Latina/o

Undergraduates.” Harvard Educational Review 79(4):659–91.

114

APPENDIX A.

Table 2. Partners of Color Self-Identified Race/Ethnicity

Asian Asian 4 Vietnamese 1 Asian/American 1 Asian American Korean American 1 Chinese/White 1 Asian American (Chinese) 1 Asian/Indian/Nepal 1 Indian/South Asian 1 Indian 1 Total 12 Black Black1 4 African American 1 Half-Black/Half-White or Biracial 1 African/Black2 1 Total 7 Hispanic/Latino Hispanic3 1 Mexican American4 1 Total 2 Middle Eastern Middle Eastern American or Jordanian American 1 Total 1

1African Americans who identified as "Black"

2 Immigrated from Nigeria

3Immigrated from Chile

4Listed Mexican American on questionnaire and identified as Latino during the interview

115