My heart hurts when racism, in all it's ugliness, is on full display. Cruel words from the past rattle in my brain and make me seeth with anger. Fear clutches me and keeps me awake at night. Not fear for myself, but for my family, my white daughter and my three mixed race grandchildren, now young adults with their own children. It all started innocently enough. A high school romance in 1985, followed by urgent calls from the school principle, our pastor at the time, neighbors, extended family, our daughter's friend's parents. Each call informing us she must put a stop to it, not a good role model for church youth group, calls from parents informing us our beautiful and sweet daughter could not associate with their children. Calls at work from neighbors afraid for our daughter because a 17 year old black male was seen entering our house. Calls to and from the boy's parents worrying about our children and the impact if was having on all our lives and were our kids safe?
Later, our first granddaughter was born. She was and is perfection and loved beyond measure by us. Inexplicably, she was not accepted by some close family members, nor her perfect brother and sister that followed. We picked a side without a second of hesitation. Slowly family came around, and even though respect had been lost we chose not to hold grudges for the children's sake. It always fascinated me when I would think of a local, prominate couple, both dentists, who had adopted black children. People made over them like they were the second coming. How very giving and open minded they were. For loving children? For being able to afford adoption?
I won't lie. In the beginning I wanted to take our daughter and move away from the only city she had ever known, to protect her, our other child and ourselves. I wanted her to mainstream suddenly, even though we had never taught prejudice. But in talks with her it was apparent that she loved this young man and he loved her. They didn't understand the shock value, they both had friends of every ethnicity and those friends didn't share the opinions of the adults in their lives.
Eventually, we stayed the course, left our church, held our heads up high, loved our daughters enough to be strong and loved our grandchildren just like everyone else loves theirs. I have been forever changed. My empathy and understanding of the oppressed is hightened but I have become prejudiced against stupidity and always will be,