Take Your Boxes and . . .: A nation of race rebels?

National Review, August 11, 2003 by Jay Nordlinger

Many correspondents wished to say that, although they could benefit from a convenient check in a winning box-having a pleasingly Spanish name, for example-they have refused, finding such favoritism distasteful, contrary to their view of America, and a little dishonest. ("There is nothing 'Hispanic' about us! We don't even like beans!")

What about getting hitched? Do race and marriage go together like a horse and carriage? "Jay, I found myself thinking of you and Ward Connerly while my fiance and I were filling out a marriage-license application at the Milwaukee County Courthouse." (Who doesn't think of Ward Connerly and me when applying for a marriage license?) "Down at the bottom of the form were boxes to indicate the race or races of the intendeds. I looked at my fiance and said, 'Hey, shall we leave this blank?' 'Yeah,' he responded, 'it's none of their business anyway.' So, with a tingle of excitement at our rebellion, we turned in our form."

But The Man stood in the way: "Upon being asked why the boxes were blank, we responded that we preferred not to answer that question. Of course, we were promptly informed that the State of Wisconsin will not issue a marriage license without recording the race(s) of the two people to be married. Not being in a position to move out of state, we abjectly complied, as people usually do when they are up against robotic bureaucrats. So, that was that. But we tried!"

Many readers brought up the problem of their mixed-race children: how to declare them (or whether to declare them, racially). "Do we make the system work for us, feeling like hypocrites and cheats, or do we stick to our principles, asserting ourselves as Americans?"

A man from Hawaii said, "Upon the birth of our daughter last year, the state sent the forms necessary to acquire a birth certificate. When I, as the father, was asked for my race, I did what I always do: check the box that says Other and write 'human.' A week later, a very serious- looking letter arrived, informing me that 'human' was not a race recognized by the State of Hawaii. I was warned that, unless the form were completed properly, my daughter's birth certificate would list the father's race as 'unknown.' So it reads, forever more. I am pleased with my little act of civil disobedience, and look forward to explaining it to my daughter when she is old enough to ask. (My wife, however, is not so pleased with the implication . . .)"

Of particular poignancy was this: "What about those of us who are adopted and don't know our race? Without boring you with the details, I was born to an unmarried woman in Germany and it's clear I am not exclusively of one race. Yet since I am adopted and the birth certificate doesn't name a father (and I have never searched for either biological parent), I will never know what race I am. Surely there must be some legislation before Congress enabling me to identify myself properly and thereby regain my self-esteem. If the government is going to continue to make race an issue, then there must be a commission formed to study the suffering of folks like me who were racially neutered. I am a man without racial identity and I need a telethon or something."