Lifestyle
By Amelia Jordan
Amelia Jordan, a seasoned executive, author, and host for a prominent media outlet focused on Black entrepreneurship, grew up as the cherished only child of dedicated African-American educators in the Bronx. At the age of eight, her father, a chemistry professor, and her mother, a schoolteacher, revealed to her that she was adopted. From that moment, her family maintained a tight-lipped silence regarding her biological roots, leaving only vague hints and fabrications to fill the gaps. However, health challenges in her midlife compelled Amelia to delve into her genetic background, leading to surprising revelations that dramatically altered her perspective.
As the highest-ranking woman at a national media company that serves millions of African-American business owners, Amelia learned that her biological father was actually a white man. Recently, I had the opportunity to discuss this journey with her, particularly in light of her memoir, Letters from My Roots, published earlier this year.
AJ: You’ve not only uncovered your family origins, but you also found yourself in a prominent position at a company dedicated to African-American success. What was that realization like for you?
MJ: Discovering that I am biracial was quite startling. As a child, I found comfort in feeling racially aligned with my biological heritage. Realizing that my biological father was white—specifically, Jewish—was jarring.
AJ: Why did that surprise you?
MJ: For several reasons. At my core, I identified as a Black child. Being frequently asked, “What are you?” was a common experience, and having a straightforward answer was reassuring. I could confidently say, “I’m Black.” I wished it sounded more exotic, but to me, that was exotic enough. My parents instilled a profound appreciation for Black culture and history within me. I took pride in it all—music, cuisine, art—and this cultural grounding was crucial to my identity and self-esteem.
When I learned that my biological father was white, it shattered the romanticized narratives I had crafted about my birth parents. I imagined them as a sort of tragic love story, like a modern-day Romeo and Juliet. But upon learning about his race, I started to consider unsettling possibilities: perhaps he had taken advantage of my mother, or maybe they weren’t in a committed relationship, or worse.
AJ: How have those feelings evolved over time?
MJ: My perspective on my heritage has shifted, but my self-identification has not changed. Race is a complex issue. Physical appearance, upbringing, and the realities of genetics all play significant roles. If you were to ask me what I am today, despite knowing more about my background, my answer would still be, “I’m Black.”
My children often tease me, saying, “But you’re biracial!” In America, society often forces us to choose our identity based on appearance, impacting everything from first impressions to opportunities. It can feel absurd to internalize an identity that the world doesn’t recognize. Even someone like President Obama, clearly biracial, is primarily identified as our first Black president.
AJ: What about your children’s experiences with their identity?
MJ: My son, who has hazel eyes while the rest of us have brown, has faced scrutiny since birth. He disliked being different and even tearfully insisted, “Just tell me! I know I’m adopted!” Despite my reassurances that he resembles his father, that one distinction was overwhelming for him.
AJ: You grew up with very proud Black parents. What was their reaction when you questioned marrying outside your race?
MJ: My father reacted strongly and passionately against it.
AJ: How did your birth mother respond to her circumstances?
MJ: My birth mother, raised in a privileged environment, had a unique perspective. She was surrounded by the likes of Nat King Cole, and her upbringing was filled with wealth and opportunities. Yet, outside that world, she faced a segregated reality. Her open-mindedness led her to embrace diversity in a society still rife with division.
AJ: Did you ever meet your biological father?
MJ: No, I haven’t sought him out. People often wonder if it’s about race, but it’s not. I reached out to my birth mother, knowing that no woman forgets the child she relinquished. In contrast, my biological father is unaware of my existence. I don’t want to disrupt his life, especially if he has his own family. My son is curious about him, which is why I included this part of my story in the book. What’s meant to happen will unfold in its own time.
This article initially appeared on October 9, 2014.
For individuals navigating similar journeys, resources such as Women’s Health provide valuable information on infertility and related topics. Additionally, if you’re interested in boosting your fertility, check out this blog post. For further insights into insemination, you can explore this authority on the topic.
In summary, Amelia Jordan’s journey reveals the complexities of identity and heritage, highlighting how personal narratives shape our understanding of self. Her experience serves as a reminder of the intricate relationships between race, family, and cultural pride.