It is always interesting when parents are interracial, in addition to being from different countries. I have a white stepfather (I don’t like that term), so I have a white father, a black mother, a black brother and a mixed sister. Quite a combo I would say; however, you will never understand how different America and Africa are till you have people from both continents as parents. Yes, we have all seen the African parents be like videos and always trending memes (if not then please send me an email I will redirect you). We also have the very relaxed or over protective American parents in shows like Wife Swap, Trading Spouses or the ever popular Nanny 911. One would think those are exaggerations, but I would disagree, because it could not be closer to the truth.
With African parents there are just things that an African kid knows. It’s a fact, the sky is blue. Well, unless your parents say the sky is purple, then it is purple. Spare the rod, spoil a child might just be a parent’s motto, but as you grow up you will largely be grateful for all the beatings received. I know I certainly am.
Others include going to 12 hour weddings due to “disconnects,” and finding out the woman you knew as your aunty, really is not your aunty. As a matter of fact, you will never know who your true blood relatives are. Learning that rhetorical questions such as “Am I your friend?” and “You think I’m stupid, huh?” are never to be answered. Practical jokes like informing your mother you are pregnant during April fool’s day are not to be entertained ever. When you’re told to use your imagination before a story, it’s completely a waste of time.
I have never meet an African kid who has not experienced being called downstairs to pass the remote even though the remote is literally half a stretch away. Never slam the door and don’t be showing off with that 98 percent for all they know you were sleeping in class. The devil is to blame for everything wrong, and avoid all scenes that are more mature while with your African parent. Finally you know it’s real when you are threatened with being sent back to the village, so I would suggest getting one‘s act right. Remember many others are with you when you find ugali in a biscuit tin. Do not despair. Stay strong
It just might be my father, but I find he is more relaxed, not as extreme, for lack of a better term as my African mother. But there are certain things that are fact. Just like the sky is purple, I now know that the American way is best. Especially compared to anything Canadian and especially THE BRITISH. I am to refer to soccer not British. Always amusing.
I see all these articles on American parents being too permissive. My father was in the military, plus African parenting is sort of engraved in you, so I will never be a wild child. The worst thing that could happen is me becoming immensely obese due to the fact that Pops loves his country’s food and is a strong believer that his children should too.
Those things aside, experiencing two different worlds as my own makes my life quite unique and very rich. I have a deep insight into two cultures that most could only wish for. Aware of their points of tensions and where they overlap, I have a deeper insight into two cultures. My perspectives and experiences have a “width and depth they would otherwise lack.”