I did it.
I took a DNA test.
I spit in a little vial, wrapped it in the paper envelope they gave me, and mailed the whole thing away. Despite knowing DNA tests are white-biased and notoriously bad at identifying the heritages of People of Color, despite knowing I was giving my DNA to complete strangers to analyze—I did it, anyway.
This is not a post explaining the details of DNA test science because others have already done so. I’m not here to write about which companies my family and I used because this isn’t an advertisement and anyway none of the companies are great at the moment. I’m also not going to critique the way DNA tests reinforce the erroneous belief that race is biological because, though we really need to talk about that, I have a different goal at the moment for my 1,000ish word limit. Specifically, this post is about how DNA testing can impact a biracial person’s sense of identity . . .
