Because I Love My Children
I grew up in a Southern California beach town called Ventura, playing water polo and swimming on my high school team. I spent my weekends at the beach and skateboarding around town. I had everything I needed, free to roam completely content in my environment. My biggest insecurity was which hand-made skirt I’d wear to school for swim meet day, the day everyone on the team dressed up.
Now that I’m a parent I don’t feel so care-free. I question when my kids will be responsible enough to ride their bikes up and down the street alone. If they are old enough to run over to the neighbor’s house for a cup of flour without me. How old they should be when we’ll let them have their own cell phone. I felt a ping of loss when my oldest began kindergarten and a sense of pride when she came home reading.
But lately I’ve been pondering new questions, bigger questions. Questions that didn’t exist when I was growing up. You see, they didn’t exist because I am white. And for the most part, the little cocoon I lived in was white too. These new, bigger questions ache at my heart mostly because the people I love more than anything, my family, isn’t white like me.
It wasn’t a plan to have a mixed marriage or a mixed family, it just happened. I married a kind person. And kindness has brought me more joy than I could ever have imagined. But my family has also opened my eyes wider than ever before.
People are showing up to vote across our country, apparently with great enthusiasm for a candidate who promotes hate, fear, intolerance, segregation, violence…even suggesting the US kill families as a war tactic. People are following suit. Some people are committing hate crimes. Others are yelling racial slurs. It isn’t just an adult problem either. It’s starting to affect families and children. In one story, I saw students holding up deportation and Trump signs at a high school basketball game because Hispanic kids were on the team. On Facebook I saw a parent post a story about their child being pointed out in class, afraid of deportation. And Trump, a candidate for President of the United States of America, is not only encouraging it, but claiming he’ll pay legal fees defending violence.
Racism is ugly and cruel and greedy. It is filled with fear and intolerance. Racism exists on a grander scale than I am prepared to admit. And, it scares the hell out of me.
How do I prepare my child for encountering racism in the future? How do I respect history with honesty? I can’t honestly tell my kids “but that was a long time ago” or “that isn’t a problem any more” or “things are much better now”.
Why do I have to explain to my five year-old that some people, in this country, could do him harm? Teach him, that he needs to be careful. That he needs to be aware. That he needs to gain control of his five-year-old body, because you never know who you might meet? How do I protect my child from intolerance and fear and blinding hatred?
How do you explain to your six-year-old, who comes home insisting she isn’t black, that she is? I tell my sweet little girl that she’s a mixed chick. That she’s a Black, Latina, White, strong, smart, adventurous girl and that I love all of her. All of her makes me proud. And it’s true. I know how incredibly special she is, how brave she is. I know how my eyes swell with pride when I watch her try something, with every ounce of her being, for the first time. How she loves everyone. How she cares for her siblings. How she wakes up with a glowing smile and goes to bed after story time with nothing but love in her heart. How do you convince her though? Because somewhere she heard otherwise. Somewhere, someone said something to make her doubt or question who she is.
I didn’t experience that sort of oppression as a kid. I never had to define myself. I never came home worried I was part Irish, or Russian, or German and what that might mean for me.
Every parent wants to protect their child. You don’t want them to fall. You don’t want them to be teased or misunderstood. You don’t want them to be bullied. That’s all normal. Every parent wants to avoid those things.
You know what I don’t want? I don’t want my child to get shot. I don’t want my child to be assaulted. I don’t want my child to experience blind hatred. I don’t want my child to be targeted by people full of fear and intolerance.
I never had anyone tell me they didn’t like me or call me names. No no one ever shoved me or pushed me. But at night, before I go to bed, I read news articles and watch video after video of assault, violence, racism and xenophobia taking place across our country. I’m not watching spoof news like SNL, The Onion, or The Daily Show for this stuff… I don’t have to. I’m looking at CNN and BBC and Fox and The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal, and NPR.
It feels as if all the racist people in America were just waiting for this chance, for Trump to come forward and say you are no longer in check. Go ahead, act out your aggression, do what feels good to you. If it’s hatred you feel, assault someone, he’ll ‘pay the legal fees’.
Do you know what would happen if a Muslim did that? Or a Black person? Or a Hispanic person? Or a gay person? Or a Mother? It would be a one-day show.
We’re allowing this to continue…all of us. We’re nominating him as a presidential candidate. A man who is bold enough to show his intolerance with unapologetic, applauded actions.
Is this really the country we want to live in?
We all need to stand up.
We all need to say something.
Homeland Security has a hashtag. #ifyouseesomethingsaysomething. It’s a good one. It reminds us it’s our collective responsibility. When you see something wrong, say something. I want to do that too. I’m going to start with my family – the things that we’ve seen and experienced.
When I see something I will say something and I hope you do too. The time is long overdue for all of us to stand up and recognize that racist family member for what he is. We can’t excuse him any more. We can’t look the other way. We can’t hide from it. No matter how easy it seems to explain away, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem, it needs to be confronted. There are many ways to acknowledge this national problem, you can have meaningful open dialogue with your friends and family, you can report violence to law enforcement, or you can write about your experiences and share them with others.
I know our country can live with tolerance, kindness and understanding. We can build and educate. We can flourish and love. This isn’t a right or left issue. We can disagree on the process and the means, but we can’t promote or tolerate blatant xenophobia and racism.
Wonderfully written, thought provoking, and true, every stinking single solitary sad word is true.
What have we done, what have we become?
a society where civility and kindness are replaced in our vocabulary by hatred and intolerance for anything different than we are or believe.
I cry for our future generations, my grandchild, your children.