Trump’s first action as President confirms my fears as a mother of a Black son

Unlike many people I know, who understandably turned their backs on it, I watched Trump’s Inauguration this morning. I sat there with Miles and we watched it together. (Well, he sorta-kinda watched it while playing with his trains.) I felt the need to sit through it, though, to experience the excruciating reality of this new era we are embarking on because Miles cannot–my family and so many others cannot–escape the consequences of it.

At one point, Miles asked me who Donald Trump was. “Who that, Mommy?”

I cringed as I replied, “That’s our new President.”

“I want a present, too,” he said. He’s been obsessed with presents ever since Christmas.

“No, I said President. Not present. This man is definitely not a present.”

That was the sum total of our conversation because he’s only two and totally oblivious, but it saddened me that I was not watching the inauguration of a President I could be proud of and whom I knew had the best interests of my child, and all of our children, in mind.

Because I have absolutely no faith that President Trump will do anything positive for Miles at all. Within minutes of being sworn in, WhiteHouse.gov removed all mention of civil rights, LGBTQ rights, Climate Change, and any mention of Black people, minorities, or people of color. Totally wiped, and replaced with minimal content that expressed support for higher numbers of police, untrue statistics about crime rates in inner cities, and incredibly frustrating statements about how the Climate Act is bad for America. And, unbelievably, WhiteHouse.gov now features promotional statements about Melania’s jewelry line. Her freakin’ QVC jewelry line.

If nothing about this campaign and ensuing presidency has worried you, this should. Sure, it’s just a website but also a sign of what’s to come: Trump seems to want to erase all of the positive progress that we have made for racial justice, environmental science and conservation, and equality. And why not? None of those issues have ever been issues for him as a white, unscrupulous, over-privileged, greedy conman who’s cheated small business owners, blue collar workers, and hundreds of others out of money that he owed them.

I worry today for my son. I worry today for all children, for our planet, for our future. I do not for one moment think that Trump is going to deliver on any of the promises he made to people who believed him when he said he cared. I do, however, think that he will do his best to deliver on promises to further destroy our planet, further divide people along racial lines, and to create a police state where individual freedoms and diversity are not valued unless they somehow happen to be in line with his personal, political, or business interests.

I truly hope that I am wrong. Because it’s terrifying, really. Absolutely terrifying.

 

Watch this: A Conversation About Growing Up Black

A Conversation About Growing Up Black is part of a NY Times series of interviews on race. It’s a short (5-minute) “Op-Doc” in which Black males talk about the challenges they face growing up as kids of color. It’s one thing to read about racism, but quite another to hear about it from children who actually experience it.

My heart breaks when 10-year-old Maddox says, “I want people to know that I’m perfectly fine and that I’m not going to hurt anybody or do anything bad.”

I know that at many points in his life, Miles will deal with these same challenges. I hope that my husband and I can do as good of a job preparing him as the parents of these kids have done. Watching things like this confirms just how important frank-talk with him about race and the unfair realities of the world will be from an early age.

Thank you to the NY Times for this interview and series. 

 

 

One Powerful Way White People Can Spend Martin Luther King Jr. Day

This year, use your day off to do something simple, yet truly powerful, on Martin Luther King Jr. Day: learn about and acknowledge your white privilege.

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“I don’t have white privilege–I worked hard for everything I have.”

White people say things like this a lot in regards to white privilege. Most of us don’t want to acknowledge that white privilege is real. Some of us will straight-up deny it, saying that we grew up poor and never took a hand-out so how could we be privileged? Some of us will say (and truly believe) that we’ve never gotten a leg up in the world just for being white.

But the absolute truth is: yes, we have. Simply having ivory skin has given us privilege beyond most of our understanding. Not realizing it and not having to think about race and racism is in itself white privilege. You and I have always been treated like we were white, because that is our reality. We have never had to think about what it would be like to be black or how we would be treated if we were. We have been shielded from racial issues, and that’s why so many white people will also say that racism is no longer an issue: because we have never experienced it.

This is not to say that white people don’t face hardships, or that we haven’t earned or don’t deserve where we are today. We have issues, problems, heartbreaks, illnesses, addictions, losses. Some of us grew up poor. A few of us were born rich. Most of us have worked our tails off to land somewhere in the middle. White privilege does not mean that everything is handed to us on a silver platter. It doesn’t mean that you or I have had it easy and/or don’t deserve where we are today.

What it does mean is that, as white people, we do not experience the racially motivated hardships that people of color do each and every day. No matter what our problems are–and they might be numerous–we have no idea what that feels like.

“Ignorance of how we are shaped racially is the first sign of privilege. In other words, it is a privilege to ignore the consequences of race in America.”
― Tim Wise

My life can be full of challenge and turmoil, but I still enjoy (usually without even realizing it) the privilege that inherently comes with whiteness. We all have axes to bear, but Black people and people of color have additional burdens.

I think the reason most white people get confused about white privilege is because they equate it with privilege in general. White privilege refers to racial privilege — basically, that white people have advantages over people of color that occur due to institutional and systemic racism. There are other kinds of privilege, and people of color can enjoy those types of privilege if they fit the bill. For example, a straight Black man with a college education, a good job, and money in the bank will benefit from heterosexual, male, and socioeconomic privilege.

But no matter how high he rises, he will always be black. Some people will automatically assume that he got where he is only because of affirmative action laws. If he decides to wear a hoodie shopping on his day off, he might be followed around the store by suspicious security guards. If his teenage son gets stopped by police for a traffic violation and appear confrontational, there is an exorbitantly higher rate that his child will be killed by that police officer than if his son was white. By now, you have heard that Black mothers and fathers have to teach their children as young as seven and eight to not affirm their rights if questioned by police and that there are numerous things that white kids can wear or say or do that black kids can’t. The list goes on and on.

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At the end of the day, arguing over whether or not white privilege exists is a waste of time that would be so much better spent trying to relate to Black people or people of color. It’s called empathy–something that Martin Luther King Jr. preached daily. In his memory, let’s each of us, right now, try to imagine what it’s like to walk a mile in a person of color’s shoes.

What would it feel like to be judged solely on the color of your skin? What if your resume was thrown away because your name sounded “too black?” What if your child had to grow up way too fast? How would your self-image suffer if someone called you a racial slur or clutched their purse and crossed the street as you walked by? How would those things make you feel about yourself?

Think about other ways that you have benefitted–even subtly–by the fact that you have white skin. Turn on the TV or go to a movie–what color skin do you see reflected back at you? Which race is featured in marketing advertisements? What do these subtle messages tell you about yourself? Even small, seemingly inconsequential things like this are examples of white privilege.

White skin is held up as the ideal by our society and that leads to disadvantages for people of color. It’s as simple as that. We didn’t cause this, and most of us don’t knowingly contribute to it. There is no reason for us to get offended by the term white privilege. No one wants us to apologize for simply being white, but the world will be better if we realize what it means and has meant today and throughout history. We don’t have control over the course of events that brought us to this point, but we do have control over where we go from here.

“The world does not need white people to civilize others. The real White People’s Burden is to civilize ourselves.”
― Robert Jensen, The Heart of Whiteness: Confronting Race, Racism, and White Privilege

Simply recognizing that white privilege exists is an important first step in creating true racial equality. In honor of Martin Luther King Jr. Day, let’s contribute something worthwhile to the racial justice movement: true understanding of our white privilege and its negative, harmful effects on others. Let’s let our defenses down and see it for what it is: something that we may not have asked for, but that is real and pervasive and has indeed given us the upper hand.

Take some time today to think about ways that you have benefitted from white privilege in your own life. Gain a better understanding by doing some reading. A good place to start would be On Racism and White Privilege from the Southern Poverty Law Center, or What White Privilege Really Means from Slate, or even this blog post from Huffington Post called White Privilege Doesn’t Mean What You Think It Does. For a more in-depth discussion about confronting your privilege, reference: The Heart of Whiteness: Confronting Race, Racism, and White Privilege.

“We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools,” – Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

What I’m Reading This Week on Race

Earlier this week, I posted a list of children’s books that I’ve been reading with Miles. But Mama likes to read stuff without pictures, too (when I can find the time). Of particular interest to me these days is — not surprisingly — the issue of race. I devour anything race-related that I can find and am always learning something that I can’t believe I didn’t already know.

If you’re the white parent of a child of color, it’s crucial that you learn as much as you can about race and racism, too. If you’re not, it’s still important to learn as much as you can because we’re all in this together, and some of us are having a much harder time out there than others.

What I’m reading this week on race:

10 Ways White People are More Racist Than They Realize  – Too many of us white people don’t realize what racism really is or how it impacts people of color–and it’s something we all need to understand.

In America, Black Children Don’t Get to be Children – This one makes me particularly sad as I’m discovering just how true this really is.

Fear of Black Men: How Society Sees Black Men and How They See Themselves – One day my son will be a Black man and this will be his truth.

Racial Health Disparities Start Early in Life  – I didn’t realize that there was such a thing as medical racism or that it extends beyond quality of care to include the fact that white doctors actually think Black people feel less pain than white people (seriously!).

A Black Man and a White Woman Switch Mics – This includes a thought-provoking video about both white and male privilege.

I’m Tired of Suppressing Myself to Get Along with White People – This is an interesting read written by a Black woman about how and why she doesn’t feel like she can be herself around most white people, with the exception being her “socially conscious white friends.” Let’s all strive to be like them, shall we?

I’m going to make this a regular series. If you’ve read something that you think I’d be interested in, please share it in the comments. Many thanks!

 

 

 

 

Cutting Down a Christmas Tree and Other Stuff White People Like

Last weekend we made our annual trip to a Christmas tree farm in the country to chop down our own tree. Last year, Miles was so small and still in a baby carrier, but this year he was running around like a little monster. I know that everyone who’s ever had a kid says this, but it really is amazing how fast they grow up.

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I love this age so much. Miles is talking but you can’t always understand him and everything he says is just so freaking cute. I could watch him run around all day with those short little legs and that goofy toddler wobble. He had a lot of fun following Dad around looking for the best tree.

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When we finally found it and cut it down, he was a little confused as to why we would do such a thing. He was stoic as he pondered the meaning of it all (or maybe he just thought the stump was cool).

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However, he quickly warmed to the idea that we were taking the tree with us.

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We had a lot of fun, but I noticed that Miles was the only black person on the entire farm. I had never thought of cutting down your own Christmas tree as a “stuff white people like” thing but maybe it is? (It also may have just been the day or time that we were there; I really don’t know. Also, that website is hilarious.)

Either way, it made me a little sad to think that he might feel like the odd man out in places like this when he’s older. The staff fawned over him, made sure he got a candy cane, and everyone was extra-special nice to us. But, in addition to having a really fun time, the experience also reinforced how important it is for us to build a diverse community and regularly expose Miles to Black culture, too–because the reality is that Miles is being raised by a white family that tends to do stuff that other white people do.

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My hope is that we can strike a balance and instill confidence in him so that he will feel comfortable with people of all races and in any situation–and that he will be empowered to do whatever stuff it is that he likes, no matter the social or racial construct.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One Simple Thing We Can All Do to Improve Race Relations

“Empathy may be the single most important quality that must be nurtured to give peace a fighting chance.” –  Arundhati Ray

As part of an effort to educate myself about black culture and racism, I’ve been reading websites and magazines written for black audiences. I think all transracial adoptive parents have a responsibility to learn about their children’s culture and the struggles they will face both as minorities and as adoptees.

A few weeks ago, I was scanning the Atlanta Black Star website, a news site with a mainly black audience, when I saw an article about a white guy from Georgia named Gerod Roth who posted a selfie standing next to a beautiful black child on his Facebook page. The Facebook post was soon riddled with racist remarks from both Roth and his friends and it ended up being passed all over the internet.

The Black community in Atlanta and around the country was outraged (rightfully so), and the people behind Black Twitter dug up the guy’s personal information and he and at least one of the commenters ended up being fired from their jobs (also rightfully so).

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Like other people who read it, I was upset by the photo and comments on the guys’ Facebook page. Then I scrolled down to the comments section of the Atlanta Black Star article and read what black people were saying about it–and that made me feel even worse. Things like, “White people don’t like us. Period.” Or, “White people will say this stuff about us but then smile to our faces. My buddy used to call it the fake white girl smile.” Or, simply, “This is why we will never be safe.”

In people’s minds, the rude comments of this overprivileged jerk and his ignorant friends were just another terrible thing in a long line of terrible things that white people have done to people of color. This wasn’t just about one white guy and a handful of idiots–to some of the people on that site, it seemed likethis guy spoke for all white people.

That made me so incredibly sad, because my smile is not fake and it breaks my heart that people might think that. (Not that I would blame them. How can black people trust us when things like this continue to happen?) Suddenly, it seemed impossible to me that we would ever be able to move past racism when there are people like Gerod Roth out there spewing hatred into the world. Feeling helpless, I looked at Miles and his beautiful black skin. How am I going to explain all of this to him? How is he going to feel about my white skin when he learns about racism? What can I do?

“Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other’s eye for an instant?”  – Henry David Thoreau

I never comment on news articles, but I left a comment on the Atlanta Black Star article that day, saying how awful the story made me feel, how sorry I was that this happened, and how sorry I was for all of the terrible racist things that black people have to face each and every day.

What happened next amazed me. I started receiving friend requests from people in the black community who read my comment. Lots of them (400+ people) started leaving replies on that comment and sending me messages that said things like “Thank you for recognizing this,” and “You made my day,” and “This means so much,” and “This is sweet. It’s too bad the majority don’t feel this way.”

It was nothing. I simply acknowledged what I was feeling; that this was terrible, that not all white people are like that, and that I felt badly about it, too. But it apparently meant the world to a community that never (or very rarely) hears these kinds of things from white people. For some, it seemed like the only time in their entire lives that they had ever heard a white person express empathy to them in regards to racism. If you read the comments on that article, you’ll see what I mean.

Black people are used to white people denying that racism exists–not acknowledging that it does (even though we wished it didn’t). One commenter said, “White people can see vampires, ghosts, aliens, UFOs, werewolves, and zombies, but can’t see racism, oppression, or white privilege.”

From what I’ve seen and heard and learned about racism over the past two years, that is not far from the truth. Because white people have never experienced racism and don’t have to deal with it on a daily basis, it’s easy for us to think that it no longer exists. It makes us uncomfortable to talk about, and people often even take offense to it because they don’t think they, themselves, are racist. But imagine how frustrating that must be for the people who face the real-world consequences of our systemically racist society?

I think the reason we can’t seem to figure out a way to move past racism in this country is because too many of us refuse to even agree that it’s a problem.

“Peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved by understanding.” – Albert Einstein

I made new friends by leaving that comment, all because instead of remaining silent and wishing that racism didn’t exist, I expressed the feelings that I’ve been carrying around inside. It didn’t solve anything, but imagine what would happen if we all said “Yes, racism is real and it’s not fair and we want to help do something about it.” Imagine the change that we could create.

What if we all made it a point to learn about racism and then to reach out and express empathy for the struggles our black neighbors have faced for generations? Why don’t more of us do that? What are we scared of? I know there are so many white people that feel the same why I do. If you’re reading this, surely you are one of them. If you believe that racism is real and care about ending it, find a way to express that.

We’ve got nothing to gain but friends and nothing to change but everything.

 

 

5 Ways My White Friends & Family Can be Allies for my Black Son

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My family is different–and I love that. Having a child of color has enriched my life and expanded my emotional intelligence in so many ways. But as the mother of a Black son, racism is on my mind nearly every day now. I have learned so much about it and I want to share some of that with you on this blog because I know how much you all care about Miles, too.

Here are 5 ways that you can be an ally, not only for Miles, but for all kids of color:

1. Don’t pretend to be colorblind. You can say that Miles is black. (You don’t have to say African-American, although that’s OK to say, as is person of color or kid of color.) Black is not a 4-letter word. It’s his race. I’m proud of it and it is absolutely crucial that he is, too. I don’t want him to think that it’s something that he should be ashamed of. Instead, celebrate his Blackness with me. He’s a perfect, cuddly, beautiful Black baby boy and I couldn’t be prouder of that fact.

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2. If I bring up racism or white privilege, please have the courage to talk with me about it. This is my life now. I know that talking about race is uncomfortable for you–it was uncomfortable for me at first, too. But my child–and every Black child in this country–needs white advocates who aren’t afraid to learn about and talk about racism because, unfortunately, it is still exists. Trust me when I tell you that it definitely does. By acknowledging it, maybe we can create change.

3. Your white children will have privileges and be able to do things that my son won’t be able to do. This is the unfortunate reality of every Black parent in the country and now it is mine as well. And it just plain sucks. When you’re teaching your son to assert his rights when questioned by a police officer, I will have to tell mine to put his hands up and eyes down and try not to get shot. I’m going to have to teach him things–really sad, awful things–about the world that you will not have to teach your child, and when he’s a teenager I may just go absolutely insane with worry every time he leaves the house. Tell me that you get it and that it’s not fair. Help me think of ways to make it better.

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4. I can’t tell you how much I would appreciate you being intentional about teaching your children and/or grandchildren, nieces, or nephews that other races are just as beautiful and worthy and strong as ours. I think white parents sometimes forget to do that or don’t know how to go about it. But kids start to notice racial differences at a pretty young age and as parents, we have the ability to shape how they feel about those differences. Expose them to diversity in culture, books, toys, entertainment and look for opportunities to show them heroes and great men and women of color so they know that strong, good people come in every color and not just white. Something this simple can help shape our children into loving and empathetic adults.

5. Use your privilege to push for diversity (both in student bodies and in teaching staff) and equality for kids of color at your children’s school. As a white parent, you have a lot of power. Stand up and say something if you see racism happening. Ask the school to recruit more Black teachers. Black children historically have a really tough time in school because of systemic racism. This article from The Washington Post talks about how racism is pushing more Black parents to homeschool their kids. I’m actually considering homeschooling Miles–not at our home (I’d screw him up for sure!) but in a homeschool community coop for kids of color where there is an actual, accredited teacher in charge and I can be sure that he will be treated with respect and surrounded by children and teachers that look like him.

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Thank you for reading, for going on this journey with me, and for all of your love and support!

Community reactions to my transracial adoptive family

IMG_2693I can’t believe that I haven’t written a post in more than a month. What a slacker! I could tell you I’ve been busy as can be and that would be true, but I think there’s more truth in the fact that I just don’t want to put my baby boy down. Like, ever. He’s so snuggly and he gives the best hugs now. He’s such a love bug. If I’m going to continue writing this blog, though, I know I have to get better about managing my time. So, today I thought I’d tell you how our journey as a transracial adoptive family is going so far, and how other people are reacting to our family.

In a nutshell: it has been wonderful.

Sometimes I look at Miles and honestly forget that he hasn’t just always been here, and that he isn’t biologically related to me. He’s just my son and that’s that. I’m aware that our skin doesn’t match but while we don’t match, we do coordinate. I mean, black and white is the quintessential color combination, right? Kidding aside, being a black and white family has already enriched our lives in so many ways.

Continue reading “Community reactions to my transracial adoptive family”

Take off the fear goggles, America

1901881_673394102717747_1181023999_nEver since we opened up to transracial adoption, I’ve had a heightened awareness of racism. And hearing about this Michael Dunn guy, who shot at a car full of teenagers, killing Jordan Davis and injuring four of his friends because their music was too loud, has really affected and upset me.

It would have upset me anyway–what is wrong with people?!–but now I’m also seeing this through the eyes of a (potential) transracial adoptive parent. Jordan Davis did not have a gun. He was just hanging out with his friends, listening to music and having fun. Who hasn’t done that? He was just a kid.

Continue reading “Take off the fear goggles, America”

The matter of black and white

Mother Care My feelings on adoption have been evolving so much. As I learn more and more, I can feel my heart open wider than it has ever been. When we first started considering adoption, I felt differently about things than I do today, just half a year later. This is true about so many issues, but today I’m writing specifically about race.

When we first started the adoption process, Jamie thought we should be open to any race so people would never have to ask if our child was adopted. He wanted it right out there, unspoken. I knew that I could certainly love a child of another race, but I also knew that having a caucasian baby would be much easier for both us and our child.

My reasoning was that it’s hard enough for a child to be adopted–I wasn’t sure we should shovel issues of race onto that pile of difficulties. If we adopted a caucasian baby, he or she would look like us, at least in regard to our skin color. I figured people wouldn’t stare at us and our adoption wouldn’t always be so obvious. So we told our caseworker that we wanted a baby of our own race. But somehow this never felt right to me. For some reason, it felt wrong to be open to adoption and only be open to adopting a baby who looked like us. I mean, adoption at its very core is about loving a child who is not related to you and who doesn’t have your eyes, your nose or your smile. Why should skin color make a difference? I had a feeling like maybe we were putting limits on the person Charlie was meant to be. It felt almost like we were not being truly open to the possibilities that an inability to conceive a biological child had opened up for us.

Continue reading “The matter of black and white”