HONEYSMOKE

From where I sit, the state of race in this country is improving. From where I sit, more people are understanding what it means to be biracial and multiracial. From where I sit, that is the only option. How can I say that? Because it seems like we’re talking about race more, really talking about it. Not yelling it, or protesting it or stomping it.  There is a conversation taking place in this country. It is inevitable. Each day I see more and more couples and children who look like us. I see them on television, in the newspaper, at the grocery store, in church, at school.

As the country marks civil rights anniversaries, those times seem so far away and at the same time so very close. Some 50 to 60 years ago, I would not have been able to sit at a lunch counter, attend school, or ride a bus with the man I now call my husband. Race relations are better, but we are not in a place where race does not matter. There are racists; there always will be. As time goes on and many of them pass on, I can hope they leave fewer of them in their wake.

I survived Simone’s Tinkerbell birthday party. She hosted nine of the 15 children invited to the pottery painting party. Each child chose a small clay figurine to paint, and the room fell silent. Kids + fun activity + food = a happy birthday.  They painted for 45 minutes and then had some cheese pizza and juice. Simone asked 50 times when she could open her gifts. We serenaded her, cut the cake and let her open the gifts. The children crowded around Simone as she opened her gifts. I had not seen children do that at other birthday parties. One little boy liked one of Nadia’s gifts so much he tried to take it home. I cut the cake and handed it out. One little girl declined a piece of cake, because it didn’t have a flower on it. I promptly cut her a slice with a flower on it and gave the other piece to a parent.

The birthday girl had the largest chair, the biggest figurine and was treated like royalty. Most of Simone’s guests signed her birthday plate. One signed his name in tiny letters, while another signed in huge letters. One little girl signed her name backward. All was well. At one point, I found two little boys running around the store. I asserted myself as Head Mommy In Charge and order was immediately restored. But why were they running around? When I returned to the party room, I found their mothers putting the finishing touches on a dinosaur and dog. My goodness. While I survived, I will adhere to the Mommy Handbook, which clearly states birthday parties should be small affairs for young children.

Familyeducation.com provides a slideshow and practical advice for parents who would like to raise their children free of prejudice as well as provide ways for children to cope with prejudice. Kerry Ann Rockquemore, the author of Beyond Black, told me a few months ago that biracial children wanted their parents to teach how to deal with prejudice. This piece touches on that subject and has resources listed on the last slide. The text is written by Alvin Poussaint, M.D. and Susan Linn, Ed.D. Enjoy.

I check on Simone and Nadia once or twice, before I call it a night. I pull up quilts, cover up toes, push girls from the edge to the center again. I usually do this task quickly and without the girls knowing I have been there. One night, though, I was met by a tiny voice as I entered the room. It was Nadia. She had crawled in with Simone and was clutching her pillow.

“Mommy, I had an accident.”

“That’s okay, Boo-Boo. Weren’t you wearing your Pull Up?”

“No, it’s over there.”

“Why did you take it off?”

“I want big girl pants.”

“Sweetie, the reason you wear a Pull Up at night is because you have accidents.”

“I want big girl pants.”

I was tickled. She told me the problem and offered a solution. I can certainly understand her demand. She wears big girl pants during the day with no problem. At night, though, she has not had the same success. I changed the sheets, granted Nadia’s wish and tucked her in for the second time.

“Thank you, Mommy. I like it when it is dry.”

“Good night.”

The Jump At The Sun Treasury: An African American Picture Book Collection

Simone received this book as an infant. The anthology features seven picture books previously published by Jump at the Sun — from a biography of slugger Willie Mays, to a ghost story, to a poem about prayer.

It is a true picture book, and Simone and Nadia like to see how the stories are told through the illustrations. The piece about Willie Mays is one of my favorites, while Simone and Nadia love the lyrical play of  ”Can I Pray With My Eyes Open?” and another piece called, “These Hands.” A few longer stories are in the back of the book and will be more appropriate as Simone and Nadia grow up and master reading, which means we will be pulling this book from the shelves for many more years to come.

Happy Groundhog Day!

I began my day searching the Internet to see what Punxsutawney Phil had to say about winter. It was an assignment from Simone by way of her preschool teacher. She was supposed to turn on the TV this morning and see the report. There was no report. I found something on YouTube, but it had been taken down. I looked high. I looked low. No 2010 groundhog prediction. Finally, just as she was walking out the door, I found a television site and let her watch the hullabaloo that surrounds Feb. 2. Punxsutawney Phil has entered the 21st Century and sent a text of his prediction this year. He saw his shadow and says there will be six more weeks of winter.

Simone had been prepared for preschool. I guess this is what folks mean when they talk about parental involvement. Whew!

My birth certificate says I am “Negro,” and Ken’s says he is “Caucasian.” Simone and Nadia’s birth certificates say they are “black.”

I had not given much thought to which box I would check. I was more focused on their health than I was on forms and documents. Faced with the options and instructed only to check one box, I figured I had three possible choices: “white,” “black” or “other.”  None of them worked. If I checked “white,” I would cast aside my heritage. If I checked “black,” I would cast aside Ken’s history. If I checked “other,” there would be no culture at all.

I considered checking two boxes, but I didn’t want to mishandle such an important document, especially without knowing the consequences of such a decision. Ken and I figured the girls would look more like me than him. So, we agreed I would check the “black” box.

So much has changed since then.  I now reject the one-drop rule, the rule that says that anyone who has one drop of black blood is black. Simone and Nadia are biracial. They are neither black nor white.

After I realized what we had done, I thought about all of the other parents who had visited that crossroads. How had they come to their decision?  Do they believe they made the right choice?

There are so many more boxes to check. Soon I will register Simone for kindergarten, and I will check all the boxes that apply.

So, which box did you check? Why?

In just a few months, millions of Americans will be answering that question. Here’s an article about racial identity in the South. Enjoy

I asked for a pair of these a few days before Christmas, and they were sold out everywhere. Like many mothers, my schedule is tight, and I wanted to give the shoes a try. Ken, thank goodness,  managed to find a pair a few days after the holiday. I have been wearing the shoes for a month, and they work. I wear mine for walking and can feel them working my calves, legs and glutes, especially when I climb stairs. The area where I have seen the most change: my calves. I know I would get more out of the shoes if I actually had an exercise regimen. Still, I am impressed and will continue to wear them.

Lavatory. Powder room. Outhouse. Wash room. Loo. Water closet. Latrine. Little Girls’ Room.

No matter what it is called I know where to find it everywhere we go. I have to. My girls like to go — even if they don’t really have to go. But I don’t. That is the last place I want to go when we are out and about. They are so, you know, unpleasant. Why, oh, why do children like to visit these places?