Walk a Mile in my Moccasins

Despite accusations to the contrary, we do not think "race" every minute of every day.  We do, however, do whatever it takes to ensure that our home, and the world that touches our kids, is as safe for our children as possible.  Our family - our ENTIRE family - is multiracial and multicultural.  My black kids are growing up with First Nations sisters, my First Nations kids are growing up with white brothers, and my white kids have black brothers and brown sisters.  And they are ALL family.  My family.  Our family.  

But their histories, their races (even if race IS a social construct), their historical cultures are important pieces to their individual identities, and to our identity as a family.  I can't "love away" their race and raise my kids to be color blind, nor would I ever really want to.  Our differences make us unique, interesting and they are very, very real. 

I love the things that tie my children together with sameness, like our shared experiences, our shared love of our extended family, our personal family history, our faith, our love of taco night and Space Mountain.  I can also equally love and respect those things that make us different.  That St. Patrick's Day was my Irish grandmother's favorite holiday and that Daddy's Norwegian grandma made excellent lefse and that slavery directly impacted my sons' great-great grandparents, and that my girls' great-great-great grandfather was a Chilcotin Warrior, and that three members of our family immigrated to Canada and that six of us were born here. 

I can honor and respect that all of my children have unique, complicated and different histories that affect their present day realities.  That doesn't make me race obsessed, that makes me honest. When my minority children walk out my front door and face the world the first thing that others will see is their race.  That's not right or necessarily wrong it simply is.  And when that happens, I want all my kids to be proud of who they are, and who they were, and who they will become.   I want them to know that white, brown or black and they are valuable, important and worthy of being treated as such.

We don't teach our kids to look for offense, but we do teach them to expect respect.  We identify prejudice when we see it, and explain to them the faults in those that think that way.  We talk about the differences between being a black teenage boy and being a white teenage boy.  We don't talk about those differences because we LIKE them, we talk about them because they exist.  I HAVE TO explain to my kids about racism, prejudice and the complicated histories of all their ancestors because if I don't I fail to prepare them for the real world they will have to live in without my covering and protection. 

Teaching your minority child - or in fact ANY child -  to respect their own history and to be prepared to deal with a majority world that disvalues all things "different" cannot begin when they enter the school system or as they prepare to leave for college.  It's not one conversation, or one picture book or that single token black friend.  As a parent, it has to be a conscious decision to become aware, to become uncomfortable, to challenge your own perceptions and prejudices and to accept, and even grieve, that your child's reality is not your own. 

My daughter wears moccasins.  Not because she doesn't have shoes (she has many, many pairs of shoes), not because there is anything wrong with shoes, but because it is a symbol of her history and a nod of respect to her culture. And that is me, her mother, consciously laying a foundation for her to grow up to first know, and second value, her personal and sacred history. 

I will teach her to respect that personal and sacred history.  I will teach her to expect it to be respected by you, and what to do when it's not.  I will also teach her to fight to protect the value of your personal and sacred history.  From that can come no harm.  

Mad Momma Update

I am VERY happy to report that we have an extremely supportive hockey association and team mates that viewed the events with the same sense of shock and horror as we did.

Greg feels supported and validated in his feelings about the event and believes our assertion that racism in any setting is wrong.

We are also happy to report that the concerns were taken very seriously, and most importantly there will be an educational component for all disciplinary actions taken.

Racists are NOT welcome in hockey, or society, and I am glad that we could help to be the change to ensure that this becomes progressively less and less acceptable in EVERY circle.

For those that would argue that racism is "harmless" on the sporting field, I would assert that complacency in the face of wrong doing is simply acceptance. If you are not part of the solution to ending racism, then you yourself ARE the problem.

I know the cost to Greg to stand up and report this event at the time it occurred to his coach and the ref. I know the cost to him to stand before the Directors today and share what happened to him. It would have been much easier, at least today, to stay silent.

But the cost if he had stayed silent and simply accepted the fact that people will sometimes behave this way? Far Greater. He believes that he is worth being treated with the same respect as any other player. Any other person.

He stood up for what is right this weekend, and he had our support. Not only that but he had the support of the coaches and Minor Hockey Executive that, without our knowledge, also spoke to the Directors on Greg's behalf attesting to his honesty, integrity and honor both on and off the ice.

So thank you. Thank you for listening. Thank you for being as upset as we were. Thank you for understanding that if we fail to react when this happens, we are giving our consent for it to continue.

Dear Editor: Thoughts on Racism

In response to this article about a despicable act of racism that happened to a family near us, I wrote this little piece and submitted it to our paper. Pass it on.


Dear Editor;

It was gratifying to read of the outrage of my neighbours and fellow citizens in the face of the racist slurs and violent attack against the King family in Forest Grove. I myself heard comments like “disgusting” or “how could they” or “I had no idea this could ever happen in this day and age”. Righteous indignation rising up against what was truly a despicable act of racism towards a family that happens to have African-Canadian members. Most certainly they deserve all our support!


As Canadians, we often consider ourselves beyond racism because overt acts of prejudice like this are rare but I honestly wonder how many of those same people who expressed horror at this attack have laughed at a “black” joke? Commented on “Chinese drivers”? Forwarded an email or two that attacks immigrants as not being Canadian enough? Ignore the woman passed out on the sidewalk and justify it to themselves that it’s “Just a drunk Indian”?


I want to challenge my fellow community members that were horrified by this overt act to take a stand as well against the little acts of prejudice that happen around us every day. Do you know that your teenager calls his friends “Nigga” on Facebook? Do you let your child imitate an Indo-Canadian neighbours’ accent? Do you stop jokes, or sweeping generalizations about our friends and neighbours when you hear them? Do you stop yourself from making assumptions about the people you see at the park or at the mall?


It’s not ok to steal a little, or drink and drive a little and it is not ok to be “racist a little”. ALL prejudice and ALL racism hurts, and sometimes the little things hurt more because they are not acknowledged by the community.


Some will say that their prejudice, comments or jokes are justified because a certain group is prejudiced against them. My response? Be responsible for your own house! There is never an excuse to do something wrong just because someone else is doing it too. My children deserve better and so do yours, no matter the color of their skin, their language of birth or the composition of their family.


If you are not part of the solution on ENDING racism you are part of the problem. I want to be part of the solution so that we are just as horrified by the racist jokes as we are by the spray painted home.

Jennifer

The Things We Do

There are many things transracial parents do for their kids. We might pull out "ethnic" art like I have done in the picture above in the girls' bedroom. Instead of pictures of Barbi or Poo Bear, I framed pictures from a Native Artist and bought dream catchers.

We might change the tone of our holiday celebrations, where we spend our vacation times, or where we worship.

All those things are a step ahead of simply dressing our kids in their "national costume" once a year, or worse, pretending that race, culture and nationality don't matter and we can be a happy multi-racial family without ever examining what that means.

I do not just consider myself a white mom of black or brown kids, I consider MYSELF now part of a minority family. It is MY responsibility, and mine alone, to make sure that our home is a sanctuary from the pervasive cultural messages my children will receive outside our front doors that White is Better. It means I never put my black child in a tshirt with a white super hero on the front. It means I have consciously put myself into situations where I would be the minority so my child could be the majority sometimes. It means I address and discuss difficult and uncomfortable racial realities with my children long before I want to. It means I bring my children to hear the voices and stories of those like them, knowing that no matter how much I want to, I can never truly understand their experience as young,black men.

Somethings are easy. I made conscious decisions about the books I buy, the music I listen to, the history I teach, the art on my walls in order that if reflects the diversity of our family and lays the foundation for the kids so that they are confident in the history of their people, their place in this world and that their sense of self as a minority person is not erased by having white parents.

Obviously as they grow up this becomes their own doing, but I know that they have learned the rich history of the African American experience. They know black inventors, musicians, artists, scholars, warriors, politicians and pastors as children while it was my responsibility to lay that foundation.

And now we are a tri-racial family. I have always thought that it would be very difficult to adequately support more than one culture in a home. My efforts have always been vested into the African American and African Canadian experience. My girls are Chilcotin . A history as difficult, as rich, as amazing and as tragic as any I have ever studied before.

I know I am not their adoptive parent, but I AM parenting them. My girls deserve all the dedication, respect and honor that the boys have received. And so today I take a huge step and start a university level language course in Chilcotin. Considered a language at risk, only 1200 people speak it today. But those 1200 people are my girls' people. Their grandparents and aunts, uncles and cousins. They lose so much by being away, they don't need to lose their language as well. So I will try, hard, to learn what I can and then pass that on to them.

I am terrified.

On Being Visible

When you go out for dinner, do other patrons frequently glance your way? Waitresses make inappropriate comments about you or your children?

When you walk into a store, does the staff frequently watch you and your family, sometimes following you for no apparent reason?

When you are at the park or pool or playground, do other families there often ask you inappropriate questions about your family makeup, your attachment to your children or your parents and expect you to divulge your history?

When you were growing up, did your friends ask highly personal questions about your family and your history, including your genetics?

Do people frequently touch you without your permission? Particularly your hair?

Do people think its cool to use slang phrases with horrible racial overtones they don't understand the history of to describe you or befriend you on facebook or other such sites?

If you were able to answer no to most or all of those questions, I can assume you are white, probably your parents are white and also, your kids are white. You aren't disabled or visibly different from the "majority" in any way. You are, in fact, invisible to the majority of other white people. Trust me, it's true. When people see you, they see themselves. They assume your family is like their own family. They assume the kids with you are your own kids. They assume you gave birth to them. They assume you have a right to be where you are doing what you are doing. You are not questioned, you are afforded the privilege of invisibility.

This is not a right afforded to minorities. Didn't know that? You should. You have a responsibility to understand what it is like to not be YOU.

Even for me, a woman who was prepared for being part of a trans racial family, the shock of suddenly becoming VISIBLE when we adopted our sons was a difficult transition. I had been an invisible mother before of a beautiful white baby - but noone thought to ask me how long I had had him for, or what his history was, or where he was "from". Noone touched him without asking me first, noone expected him to want to go home with them because he was so cute. The comments, the stares, the looks, the questions, the touching and even the overly enthusiastic fawning over my children was new. The assumption that other people have a right to know your history, THEIR history, to judge or evaluate your parenthood, your right to act like a family was constant.

If you can imagine how difficult it was for me, now imagine being 4.

Going through a difficult transition into a new family and everywhere you go people ask questions, comment or want to touch you? You can imagine then how much you would enjoy finally, eventually as you become more well known in your town and community, being slightly less visible. You know that being followed in a store as a ten year old doesn't happen to your white friends. You know their mother doesn't have to explain that how you dress, and act in a store will make a difference between how you are treated. You know that other kids have no idea about racism or how awful it is. You understand this all because you have to. You are visible wherever you go.

People know you, people know your family and eventually the questions become less. You head off to high school, and it's an entire new crowd of people. Kids who think they have the right to ask you about your "real" family, your history, where you are from. Kids, sometimes white ones sometimes other minority kids, think its cool to call you "nigga" or call your other friends that too. They simply don't understand that its not a cool new nickname but has a horrible and awful history to it that you hate. It hurts, but you don't say anything.

And then your parents ask your opinion on fostering two different racial minority children. And you say no. No. No. No. No. And finally ok, but you aren't going to like it. And your parents are confused. Someone did this for you, didn't they? You got to stay with your brother because your foster parents were willing to take you in. You should pay it forward. You should understand the need. You should want to do this. But what you know, but can't express, is that this will make us MORE visible.

Greg and Eric were both resistant initially to us bringing the girls into our family. Eric's resistance lasted less than 24 hours, Greg's about 3 days. Both have warmed up completely to the girls, as I knew they would, which is why we chose to proceed but I could NOT understand their reluctance to foster and in Greg's case, his initial extreme reaction to the possibility.

What I now understand is that having foster children threatens their place, their role in our family and worse, it increases their visibility. We are now a tri-racial family. There is great resistance in our area from the racial community to which my girls belong to having their kids in white families. We now deal with high visibility from both a minority group judging our right to be cuddling, parenting or being with the girls, as well as being noticed continually by the white community, and of course, they are dealing with being black in a mostly white town.

Also, to my sons, there is a definite hierarchy of family. Being a "foster kid" is something they would never, ever, ever want to be thought to be. They know that foster kids have social workers that visit them at school. They know that foster kids don't have the same name as their parents they live with. They know that foster kids aren't permanent. That foster kids can be taken away by anyone at anytime. They know that foster kids are less than full members of the family they live with, because the government dictates that they be so. They know because they lived it.

My kids are intensely proud of their right to be fully, completely and permanently part of our family. That is why they HATE the questions some feel they have a right to ask. They are simply OUR sons, and part of our family, unless they choose to share differently with you, that is their right to live and be. And now we are a foster family.

And yesterday, I overheard a conversation where Tanner was asked if his brothers were his foster brothers and I understood, at least a bit, what my boys face. They don't want ANYONE ever questioning their place in our family. And fostering makes us visible, once again, where everyone feels they can ask questions. Questions that make them visible. Questions that make them feel not fully a part of our family.

Fostering the girls was still the right decision to teach our sons compassion and kindness, to love children that need loving. It was right to teach them the sacrifices that are involved in opening your heart and home. But there is a cost that I need to acknowledge.

I know I can never understand, fully, what it is like to be them.