And where are you two from?

(The subtle things that make you feel like you don't belong)

Last week we traveled as a family (kids, my Mom, my sister and me) to visit Baby Ava's grave. After we left the cemetery, we stopped at a little diner. Mom and Johnna had been there before. I had not.

2 waitresses - ours was distant and not very friendly. We tried to brighten her day but she was having nothing to do with that. It appeared that she just wanted to be at home or rather anywhere EXCEPT where she was.

The other waitress was much more friendly and better at her job.

Waitress #2 comes over as the kids start to eat and in a very loud voice said: "OMG, how cute are you. Where are you to from?"

My Mom instantly said, "From their mother."
I said, "We were from Arizona."

Interpretation of question: "There is no way you are from here because you don't look like anyone we've seen here in a long time."

blaaaahhhh. Why people? Guess you didn't really want our business and you surely made us feel as though we didn't belong/fit here. Funny thing - I grew up 15 minutes from this diner. Sad, really sad.

Happy Juneteenth

on June 19, 1865, Union soldiers sailed into Galveston, Texas, announced the end of the Civil War, and read aloud a general order freeing the quarter-million slaves residing in the state. It's likely that none of them had any idea that they had actually been freed more than two years before [with the Emancipation Proclomation].

It was truly a day of mass emancipation. It has become known as Juneteenth. Read more: http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1815936,00.html#ixzz0rLoZw21t

In recognizing the history of American freedom, advocates say, Juneteenth is as deserving of recognition as Independence Day.

"We may have gotten there in different ways and at different times," says Meyers of blacks and whites, "but you can't really celebrate freedom in America by just going with the Fourth of July." Read more: http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1815936,00.html#ixzz0rLo5UBra

New Hands

G got up in the night and got in bed with me. I asked her if she'd been dreaming. She said "yes."

K: What about?
G: Getting new hands.
K: What?
G: I was dreaming about going to a store to get new hands; and arms; and feet.
K: Why?
G: Because I wanted new hands like Rylee.
K: What kind of hands does Rylee have?
G: Bright ones.
K: Hm, what does that mean?
G: I don't like my hands. I want bright ones like Rylee's. And yours.
K. (Pause). Do you know that you have brown hands? (Pause). I call them beautiful brown!
G: Yes. I don't like them. I want bright ones likek Rylee's. (Pause). What color hands does Memae have?
K: White. Well, she calls them olive.
G: And Auntie?
K: White.
G: I want hands like Rylee's.
K: :(

Comments from Strangers

Well, moving to Maine I suspected (OK, knew) this would happen but it did. Is this week 3? And 2:3 in just one morning - a 3 hour outing.

#1
We went downtown (Portland, ME) and stopped at the farmer's market. An older woman stopped and asked: "Where did they come from?" referencing my kids. In my head I thought:

-The moon?
-My Vag*na
-None of your freakin' business?
-Who are you? What is wrong with you?

Answer: We are from Arizona.

Then, I realized she was essentially wearing a low-end snowmobile outfit with winter boots - in the city in September. Now, it was chilly today. We wore sweaters (and capris/shorts). There was something mentally wrong with this woman. I shrugged it off and went about our business. I think she just verbalized what others must think.

Then...
#2:
We went to the library and in the middle of reading my two kids a book a disheveled looking woman in a pink sweatshirt who was in her 30s or maybe 40 interupted:

"Excuse me."
Yes?
"You are soooo beautiful." Directed at Gianna. She asked how old she was and then how older brother was. Innocent and sweet Gianna answered all of this stranger's questions. I sat and watched her, my kids, my purse and smelled the tobacco roll off of her (and she wasn't even that close to me!).

Apparently all of her questions to my child were complete so she turned to me and stated:
"Their father must be pretty dark, hugh?"

I paused (you'd all be so proud, I paused - they say that is a sign of wisdom but I did it for emphasis).

I stared at her.
(I thought of saying some wild things like: "Nope, he's a red-headed Irishman but that isn't exactly true.)

I quietly and calmly without much emotion in my voice said:
"That's a really personal question."
I looked at her for a moment and went back to reading to my lovely children.
She got the point and walked away.

#3 (+):
We left and a lovely man sitting on the corner waiting for someone/something spoke to Gianna in the kindest tone and said:
"Your hair is beautiful."
(This was NOT one of those - Oh my word, I've never seen a white woman with an ethnically mixed child and I'm going to say something so I'm going to comment on her hair. Nope.
This was a black man with his ethnically mixed little boy who was openly being kind to my child. So calm and gentle and nice.). Gianna smiled and we went to our car.

So....it happened. Classless.

Comments

Last night we enjoyed a WONDERFUL evening at the new Children's Museum of Phoenix. I'd been meaning to go there all year. I even planned one outing and then someone got sick. Last night was the night!

On the first Friday of each month, the museum opens free to the public - 6-10pm. We arrived at 620pm and had to wait for about 90 minutes to get in. Apparently, they only take in the first 600 at a time and then the rest get a ticket and get to come in by number.

It was difficult at first but then the kids got to see a magician, G got to try out shooting a rocket and they both played with sidewalk chalk in the outside ampitheater. Thankfully, it was not super hot last night! It was also nice to see such diversity in cultures, languages and economic groups. Well, once inside (and after retracing our steps to find Z's lost shoe) the kids had a blast!

The Museum is in the old Monroe School in downtown Phoenix. There are three floors of activities including a wee-ones room where Z had freedom!, an art room, a building room (building with PVC piping - both liked this), a flower garden area, a market and kitchen and so much more. It was a great evening. When we got to the car, I was shocked to see the time: 9:48pm! What?? Kids did well.

Comments - I sometimes wonder if people think I'm deaf. Seriously. If you stand right beside or behind me and speak out loud, I'm probably going to hear you. When standing in line, these two women and their combined four children appeared right behind us. They were nice women with nice children. There was a little one who I learned was born the same week as Z so of course I focused on her - size and development. I spoke a couple of times to the women but they weren't super receptive so I just watched the kids. I was pretty sure that they were Christians - at least one - based on her reaction to a situation.

Then came the words: "Do you think we'll ever be extinct?" one said to the other. I couldn't help but listen - they were right behind me! They were talking about my kids being mixed race. They assumed they were both biracial (a common assumption as the kids don't walk around with signs stating: Adopted/Siblings/Biologically Unrelated..........) After some pondering of the topic, they joked - "Nope, we still have all of those Africans in Africa." These two well educated, successful black Christian women didn't like it that I was the mother of G & Z.

While still standing in the line, I had an opportunity to comment on the two littlest kids (the little girl and Z). I made a point to tell them that he is Puerto Rican. "Oh!" they said. I made my point but come on.... As a fellow blogger and mother of 3 lovely girls from Haiti (Cate) recently pointed out on her blog, why is it always the black women? Seriously - I didn't believe it but now that my kids are getting older - those are the looks and comments. Not 100% of the time but seriously, many black women tick me off with their looks and comments.

What am I missing here? Are you threatened? Is it cultural? Do you perceive me to be doing something wrong in raising my kiddos? We are all people. I can't help it if this world has been unfair during the course of history. I respect it and acknowledge it. I'll definitely teach my kids about it. But, I can't change it. We are all people with the same basic needs and desires. Now, I'm off to raise a future black woman...Lord, help me!