White Chicks

In college my BFF Jessica and I stole a car repeatedly.  Accidentally, but repeatedly.  Let me explain: my friend Mike had given me a general description of his car (which when translated by my ears probably sounded a lot like, “Blah, blah, blah, tan Honda, blah, blah.”  College Laura was not so big on details) and which lot he had parked it in, so we could borrow it.  And so we did.  Considering a car is to freshman students what water is to fish, we ended up borrowing it multiple times just for kicks.  Went out and got our ears pierced.  Took it over state lines to pick up a friend from another college.  Joked about Mike having “The Club” in his backseat.  There came a day we couldn’t get it started, even after trying all the tricks (kicking the tires, pounding the steering wheel, praying to Jesus), so we called him (from a landline mind you, cell phones weren’t such a THING back then).  We were sitting in the car like morons when he came trudging into the lot.  The conversation went something like this:

Mike: What are you guys doing?

Us: We don’t know--we can’t get it to start!

Mike: Um, that’s not my car.

Us: WHAT?!?!?

Yep, turns out his keys happened to fit the other tan Honda that shared the same parking lot.  Ooops.  Eventually, Jessica explained everything to the Campus Security director and all was forgiven (The fact she was dating the director’s son at that time was a happy coincidence and probably had nothing to do with our exoneration).  Years later, we still love to tell the epic “Stealing the Car” story from our good ol’ college days (and actually after reconnecting with Mike recently over Facebook, I found out that he loves retelling his version too.  I’m sure he starts with, “I knew these two idiot girls in college...”).  Funny, right??

Do these sweet girls look like a couple of car thieves to you?

Now imagine this same scenario -college students mistakenly borrowing the wrong vehicle over several months- but with African-American males playing the lead roles.  Do you think they would have gotten off with a wink and a shrug?  In rural Ohio?  I hate to break it to you, but the answer is probably: No stinking way.  

Because of Ethiopia’s adoption requirements, David and I have just finished a 10 hour course about adoptive parenting.  These sessions addressed everything from brain building experiences and discipline to bonding and attachment.  And there was a “Race and Culture” class tacked on at the end, since many international adoptions also happen to be transracial/cultural.  Internally I rolled my eyes at this inclusion- considering that my husband is a SOCIAL WORKER and I’m so sensitive and fabulous, we obviously didn’t have anything to learn about this subject.  Wrong.

Eating Ethiopian veggie stew (Recipe here) doesn't earn you any cultural extra credit points.  But it is magically delicious!

We already knew that we wanted to respect and honor our daughter’s Ethiopian culture and heritage however we can.  We desire to surround her with a diverse group of peers and mentors.  Good intentions so far.  The shock came when we learned that acting “color blind” (Meaning: Making race a non-issue) is not necessarily desirable within a transracial family situation.  Love is still the most important thing, but race should be acknowledged and celebrated-not ignored.  Please hear me out because I’m trying to be truthful, not divisive.  But growing up as an African-American female in America is different than growing up as a Caucasian female in America.   The reality of this fact hit me the hardest when our presenters quoted a few statements concerning “White Privilege” from Peggy McIntosh’s article about the topic.  Let me share some with you:

I can, if I wish, arrange to be in the company of people of my race most of the time.

When I am told about our national heritage or about “civilization,” I am shown that people of my color made it what it is.  

Whether I use checks, credit cards or cash, I can count on my skin color not to work against the appearance of my financial reliability.

I can swear, or dress in second hand clothes, or not answer letters, without having people attribute these choices to the bad morals, the poverty, or the illiteracy of my race.

I can easily buy posters, post-cards, picture books, greeting cards, dolls, toys, and children’s magazines featuring people of my race.

I can be pretty sure that if I ask to talk to “the person in charge,” I will be facing a person of my race.

Wow.  Some of us are squirming in our seats.  Not only are these statements uncomfortable to read, it is hard to acknowledge that they are usually true for those of us who happen to have white skin.  Which would lead me to draw the difficult conclusion that these statements may not prove to be true for our friends of color.  And this should make you mad.

I’ve been getting together with one of my best friends, Aliceana, on an almost weekly basis since the birth of my son.  We met as co-workers at the library.  She shares my love for shoes, jewelry, Jesus, and hot tea.  She also refers to Elijah as her “favorite 5 year old”, which pretty much solidifies our friendship until the end of time.  Oh and she’s African-American.  During our initial meetings, we talked about nearly everything under the sun -as new friends tend to do.  Sometimes these discussions touched on issues about race and prejudice.  Her perspective was invaluable to me.  Because while I could rant and rave about the injustices caused by racism, I’ve never had to experience it.  Aliceana has.  Her encouraging spirit and positive outlook concerning everything, even this sensitive topic, continue to astonish me.  She sees it like this: Since some people will judge her ENTIRE race by their encounters with her, she has set out to be the world’s best African-American ambassador.  Whereas this pressure to constantly be the best possible version of yourself would cause most of us to become bitter, she sees it as an opportunity and an honor.  I’m not exaggerating here; God was really showing off when He made her (Sometimes I think David may secretly be paying her to be my friend in the hopes some of her sweet nature will rub off on me).

Now consider carefully if people judged your entire race based solely upon YOUR actions.  Yikes!  Sorry white females, but (because of me) you are now all nerdy, car-thieving worriers obsessed with checking People.com.  How does it feel to be stereotyped because of my ridiculous behavior?  I’m being silly, but you get it.  It’s unacceptable.  It turns my stomach that we have reached the year 2013 with prejudice like this still existing in the world.  It hurts even more to know that I have probably been an unknowing participant in some of that prejudice.  But the heart breaker is that one day my innocent daughter will have to shoulder the burden of people’s misguided assumptions about her based only on the color of her skin.

I pray it doesn’t sound like I’m pointing fingers because I’m absolutely not.  Every single one of us is guilty of making snap judgements about people based on superficial factors.  This is the ugly side of human nature.  And we aren’t going to just hold hands, sing Kumbaya, and be granted a magical solution to this messy problem.  To put it bluntly, building up is much harder work than tearing down.  However, I think a reasonable start could be to simply “treat people the same way you want them to treat you” (Matthew 7:12).  In other words, implement the Golden Rule.  Consider how this could radically change your interactions for the better!  To think of others with the measure of grace you would want present in their thoughts about you.  To let your tempered speech reflect how you would hope to be spoken about behind closed doors.  Improve the world by improving yourself.  Or to borrow a summary of a few Gandi teachings, “Be the change you wish to see in the world.”

I believe that an orphaned little girl in Ethiopia can come home to be treated like a princess by her family in America.  I believe this little girl can be loved and accepted by others not in spite of who she is, but because of it.  The cursory details of her story (orphan, African, adopted) won’t even begin to scratch the surface of who she is.  She, like EVERY single person on this planet, is a beautiful, purpose-filled creation of God.  And it’s about time we all started treating each other this way.  The dream to give our children a better tomorrow doesn’t have to be a fairy tale, IF we choose to write a different story with our actions today.

Talk about a better tomorrow!  Piece by Piece fundraiser on Valentine's Day-370 pieces in...

....And now, here's the post-Easter progress.  395 pins bought and pieces in, just 105 to go!