I always knew the day would come when I would have to comfort my child after someone said something to mean to him, but I never thought it would come so soon and I never thought the "mean" thing said would be quite so mean or so hurtful.
Last week, we were on vacation in Myrtle Beach. It was probably the second day there, and Jordan, my five year old, was at the pool with me, trying to make friends. He approached a little boy who appeared to be his age who was playing catch with another little boy and that boy's father. I saw Jordan approach him and went about setting up my chair for relaxing by the pool when I overheard Jordan, in his typical upbeat, but very matter-of-fact voice saying "I am white. See, my skin is a little white and a little brown, so I am brown and white, but I am white." I was perplexed. This used to be a pretty normal conversation. When Jordan was about 3 and attending a beautifully racially diverse preschool/daycare, he started noticing differences in people and he would say to complete strangers in the grocery store, "You're brown. My daddy is brown and my mommy is white. I am ____ (this changed regularly -sometimes he was white and sometimes he was brown)." But I hadn't heard a conversation like this in years and I couldn't figure out why he was having it with this little boy. So, I called Jordan over and said, "Jordan, why are you telling that little boy what color your skin is?" He replied:
Because he told me that only white people could play that game.
Yes, you read that right. And no, you don't need to check your calendar. It really is 2011. I was in shock and I wish I could say I had something very wise and meaningful to say, but instead, I took a deep breath, restrained myself from yanking the little boy out of the pool and walking him over to his parents to yell at them (because even in that moment of anger/hurt/confusion, I knew that little boy didn't just come up with that on his own), and said, "well, then, find another friend." And my little boy walked off with a very sad face. Not sad because of racial injustice, but because I told him he couldn't be friends with someone.
Later, I had another talk where I asked him if the boy made him sad and told him he never needed to explain who he was, but that if (God forbid) something like that ever happened again, he should just say, "I'm just like you - it doesn't matter what color my skin is." I've rethought that a million times. I can't think of any more appropriate thing to say to a kid his age, but when I type it, it seems very naive of me.
I have to say in that very moment, I didn't know whether to cry, yell or just hold on tight to my child, but now, I have a hard time even having emotion about it because I just can't believe it happened. Again, maybe some would call me naive, but I have to say, I have heard a lot of racist things come out of the mouths of adults in my life, but I have never, ever heard something so simplistically horrible come out of the mouth of a child. I am under no illusion that we have moved past race issues, but I really thought we were past people saying and doing things like that - and clearly, this child has learned this somewhere.
All I can say as I think about it today is - I am shocked and heartbroken that my child has to grow up in a world with people like the ones who taught this little boy something so mean.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
the journey
First, you might notice that I dropped the "i am _____" for the title this time. I always knew I could only keep that up for so long. I'm just not that creative. Now on to the topic . . ...
Our family is on a new journey. As you saw in my last post, we are moving to Louisville and becoming renters for the first time in over 7 years. My husband is embarking on a new career path. He is going to pursue a master's degree in marriage and family therapy - hopefully at Louisville Seminary. I say "hopefully" because this is the first element of the "leap of faith" part of this journey. And let me tell you, there are a lot of elements. He hasn't been accepted to the program yet, and can't be until next spring - when he would then start full-time in the fall of 2012. Because we were so moved and encouraged by the people we met on our campus visit and because they were so positive about his potential for joining the program, we decided to act now - allowing him to start taking classes as a non-degree seeking student (which will hopefully increase his possibility of admission) and allowing our oldest son to start first grade in Louisville, rather than moving between first and second. This is the honest rationale for our timing, but I have to tell you, there was no hesitation on my part.
We have lived in Lexington for almost 7 years and I love it, but there are parts of me that can't get out of here fast enough. That really has very little to do with the town and more to do with our history here. It has been a long and rocky 7 years and there are memories and emotions here that I want to leave behind. And I receive confirmation of it over and over again as people act surprised that my husband is going to seminary. This is the complete opposite reaction of all the people he grew up with and all of our friends in California. No one who really knows him blinks an eye when he tells them his plan. But here, people act shocked. Some even make it into a joke. This is when I respond, "you know, I tell people all the time that even though he knows every one in this town, very few people in Lexington have ever actually met the man I married." The great thing is, they are starting to meet him now and I have him back. The man I married is loving, compassionate, committed to his family and God and has a call on his life to serve people. I know that people here have seen some of those elements, but they haven't seen them all together on a consistent basis. We all go through seasons in our life when we struggle with who we are. Carl has been through his and I have certainly been through mine, but for the first time in a very, very long time - frankly, maybe even ever, I feel like we are on the same page, moving in the same direction.
What's most remarkable about this journey is that there are so many unknowns, but we both have so much peace. Besides the uncertainty of school, we have cut an income and are stretching our budget beyond what we knew we could do, we are having faith that Jordan will get into a decent school, we are moving the day before we leave for a vacation, we can't sell our house - so we are renting it out, we are renting a house and depending on the rental income from our Lexington house to pay our mortgage, and I am keeping my same job but working from an office that will make me less accessible to the executive management whom I work with on a daily basis. There have been days when we didn't know how we were going to write the check for the next cost associated with this process and days when we weren't sure if the next piece of the puzzle would fall into place, but at every turn, the money, or the decision, or the call from the renters has come at exactly the right time. And at every moment when I should have had a complete breakdown, I have felt perfectly content.
I love this journey and I love not knowing what will happen next. Whatever it is, I am more confident than ever that it will be the right thing at the right time.
Our family is on a new journey. As you saw in my last post, we are moving to Louisville and becoming renters for the first time in over 7 years. My husband is embarking on a new career path. He is going to pursue a master's degree in marriage and family therapy - hopefully at Louisville Seminary. I say "hopefully" because this is the first element of the "leap of faith" part of this journey. And let me tell you, there are a lot of elements. He hasn't been accepted to the program yet, and can't be until next spring - when he would then start full-time in the fall of 2012. Because we were so moved and encouraged by the people we met on our campus visit and because they were so positive about his potential for joining the program, we decided to act now - allowing him to start taking classes as a non-degree seeking student (which will hopefully increase his possibility of admission) and allowing our oldest son to start first grade in Louisville, rather than moving between first and second. This is the honest rationale for our timing, but I have to tell you, there was no hesitation on my part.
We have lived in Lexington for almost 7 years and I love it, but there are parts of me that can't get out of here fast enough. That really has very little to do with the town and more to do with our history here. It has been a long and rocky 7 years and there are memories and emotions here that I want to leave behind. And I receive confirmation of it over and over again as people act surprised that my husband is going to seminary. This is the complete opposite reaction of all the people he grew up with and all of our friends in California. No one who really knows him blinks an eye when he tells them his plan. But here, people act shocked. Some even make it into a joke. This is when I respond, "you know, I tell people all the time that even though he knows every one in this town, very few people in Lexington have ever actually met the man I married." The great thing is, they are starting to meet him now and I have him back. The man I married is loving, compassionate, committed to his family and God and has a call on his life to serve people. I know that people here have seen some of those elements, but they haven't seen them all together on a consistent basis. We all go through seasons in our life when we struggle with who we are. Carl has been through his and I have certainly been through mine, but for the first time in a very, very long time - frankly, maybe even ever, I feel like we are on the same page, moving in the same direction.
What's most remarkable about this journey is that there are so many unknowns, but we both have so much peace. Besides the uncertainty of school, we have cut an income and are stretching our budget beyond what we knew we could do, we are having faith that Jordan will get into a decent school, we are moving the day before we leave for a vacation, we can't sell our house - so we are renting it out, we are renting a house and depending on the rental income from our Lexington house to pay our mortgage, and I am keeping my same job but working from an office that will make me less accessible to the executive management whom I work with on a daily basis. There have been days when we didn't know how we were going to write the check for the next cost associated with this process and days when we weren't sure if the next piece of the puzzle would fall into place, but at every turn, the money, or the decision, or the call from the renters has come at exactly the right time. And at every moment when I should have had a complete breakdown, I have felt perfectly content.
I love this journey and I love not knowing what will happen next. Whatever it is, I am more confident than ever that it will be the right thing at the right time.
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