"What are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know, like where are you from?"

"Nebraska."

"No, I mean like, what ARE you?"

I've been asked this question more times than I can count. And I always know what the person is trying to ask, but I have to admit I kind of like to see them struggle. It shouldn't be so hard to ask, "Hey, what race are you?" But it is. Especially when the person doesn't fit nicely into one box. This is the plight of every ethnically ambiguous-looking person on earth.

Growing up in the Midwest, I never knew I wasn't black until a 12-year-old white boy told me so. Do you have any idea how discombobulating that is? (I love that word.) Anyway – it's confusing. I'd spent the first 11 years of my life thinking I was black. All of sudden, I didn't know what I was. And neither did anybody else.

So, my journey from black to ethnic ambiguity began. There were a few challenges along the way like the time a white supremacist accepted me, but not my brother or father. That was a really strange encounter. Or, when a drunk white guy asked if he could use a plastic fork to comb my beautiful curls. (Everyone knows you don't mess with a black woman's hair.)

But one of the best things about being biracial is the superpower that comes with it. Yeah, you read that right. I have the ability to blend into almost every ethnic group on the planet. Can you do that? With this power comes great responsibility (Thank you Uncle Ben.) And I take it very seriously. Being biracial is about accepting who I am and demonstrating a willingness to accept who everyone else is, too.

Just to be clear, because I don't want you to be disappointed, this book isn't for everyone. You'll need a thick skin, open mind, and a sense of humor to digest it. After all, that's what's gotten me this far.

Who is it for? I'm glad you asked (and you're still reading this blurb.)

Buy My Life in Black and White and you'll never be discombobulated about race in America, again. (Of course, I can't really guarantee that!)