When you look at me, you can't really tell what I am, but I'm black, white, Native, Spanish, and a little bit of Filipino.
By his father he is English, by his mother he is Americanto my mind the blend which makes the perfect man.
My Latin roots are very strong. All my life, because I'm blonde and blue-eyed, people who aren't Hispanic can't believe I am. And people who are Hispanic always think I'm not, because I don't look like them. Being Latin is part of who I am and I bring that part to every role.
I'm Jewish and Italian, and I lucked out and got the nose of both cultures.
My dad is Caucasian, and my mom is African American. I'm half black and half white. Being biracial paints a blurred line that is equal parts staggering and illuminating.
My life is black and white and mixed. My mother's a Rastafarian, my dad was a short white guy - it's not an affectation. It's also the lives of millions of people throughout the world.
I relate to both my Caucasian side and my African side, and I love that.
I have always, or for the most part, identified myself as a biracial person.
I don't see myself as either Irish or American, I'm a New Yorker.
I see myself as part English and part American, with a dash of Irish thrown in, and a pinch of Italian from my mother's ancestry.
My mother is French, my father is Texan.
The air of the English is down-to-earth. They care about details; there's a tradition, but there's also a counter-culture: the younger generation versus the older generation and so on. But then that's well blended into a happy balance and crystallised into common sense.
My father is Chinese, Spanish, and Filipino; my mother is half-Irish and half-Japanese; Greek last name; born in Hawaii, raised in Germany.
I myself am mixed race - my mother is Korean, and my father is an American Jew - so I've always felt other.
