So, at this point you’ve all seen enough pictures of my kids to know they’re biracial. And beautiful. I don’t like to brag, but I do have two of the most beautiful boys on the planet. I’m just sayin’…
Something you may not yet know about me from reading my blog, though, is that I don’t see color. (Well, other than the fact that white boys just cannot dance, of course…) I honestly just don’t notice it. I hate love all people.
So when someone makes a comment that can be construed as quasi-racist, it always surprises me and catches me off guard. (Minus the dancing observation, of course…) A few Fridays ago, two of my favorite girlfriends and I went to happy hour after work. [Side note: One of those girls has an amazing blog that you should totally check out here.] We were having a blast just unwinding from a hellacious week at work and had no worries at the moment. That’s when I run into another friend there who wants to introduce me to the dude he was there with:
Other Friend: “Alicia, this is so-and-so. So-and-So, this is Alicia.”
Other Friend’s Friend: “Nice to meet you, Alicia. Do you have any kids?”
Me: “Nice to meet you too, So-and-So. Yes, I have two boys. What about you?”
Other Friend’s Friend: “Oh, that’s neat – I have two girls!”
Me: “Cool! Here’s a picture of my boys.”
Other Friend’s Friend: “Oh… Wow.”
Me: “Wow what?” [Thinking it’s because I look much too young to have children that old.]
Other Friend’s Friend: “Uh, they’re black!”
Me: “What?! Did you really just say that?! Did that seriously just come out of your mouth?!”
Other Friend’s Friend: “Um, no, uh, that’s not what I meant. Uh…um…”
Me: “No need to explain.” [Turning to Other Friend…] “Dude, your friend is a son-of-a-!@#$%, and you really need to make some new friends.”
Wonderful end to that conversation. And it was at that moment that I remembered why it was that I went out with my girlfriends in the first place: Because I don’t like anyone else.
Do people STILL really think like So-and-So does?! Helloooo!!! It’s 2013!!! I forgot when I chose to have children that they may actually have to deal with jackasses growing up who still haven’t figured out that we all bleed the same color. And it breaks my heart for them. They’re so innocent, and yet they have to deal with people obviously so insecure with themselves that they take it out on others.
In fact, when Gerald’s best friend’s mom heard about Gerald from her son for the first time, she actually said, “Oh, his name is Gerald? Well that’s not a black name…” Are you kidding me?! So I didn’t name my kids Bon Qui Qui AND they’re well-spoken and well-mannered… Whaaaat?! It’s really very sad that when they go to college, it’ll benefit them to be “black” and when they submit their resumes, it’ll benefit them to be “white.” Is this really the world we live in in the 21st century? I’m afraid so. [Shake my head…]
My challenge for you today if you have this secret problem: Go talk to someone who’s different than you. Start a conversation with him. Shoot, hug him even. You might be surprised and realize you’re actually very similar. Hmm, imagine that…