Parenting is tough enough without strangers asking insensitive questions about our children. After a Michigan woman assumed Jeremy Verdusco had adopted his daughter, he wrote about his reaction. How have you handled similar situations?
For more posts from Jeremy, visit his blog, blocletters.
By Jeremy Verdusco
© Jeremy Verdusco
I fathered a mixed-race child. Honestly, I don’t give her “mix” much thought, and don’t think twice about the idea of people marrying and (gasp) having children across racial lines. Mom didn’t raise me like that.
So, I was taken aback on a trip to a local hardware store this week by a comment from the cashier. I dashed in to buy light bulbs and trudged up to the register with the bulbs in one hand and my daughter in her carrier in the other. The older woman took the cash and began cooing. “She’s beautiful!” she said.
I’ve gotten used to the coos. I think my girl is beautiful, and regular comments from strangers just reinforce my bias and warm my heart. Then the woman said one of the most ignorant things I’ve ever heard.
“Have you had her since birth?” she asked.
I paused for a second, my brain trying to find a word. “Um … yes,” I responded. I found myself, for reasons I still don’t understand, not wanting to lecture or embarrass a stranger.
Adoption has a nobility to it. Taking responsibility for a child where the parent could or would not ranks among the more selfless actions I can think off. But obviously this woman, a nice white lady of about 65, reads too much People, and thinks brown babies must come from Malawi.
But beyond my daughter’s provenance, this woman questioned the idea that people of different races might marry or have children. In 2010, with a black president in the White House, I kinda thought this question was settled. The Supreme Court ruled onLoving v. Virginia in 1967, a generation and a half ago.
I fairness, I don’t know this woman’s background. Still, while Oakland County, where she at least works if not lives, has a population about 80 percent white, it’s hardly homogeneous. One in five residents counts as non-white. Surely she’s met whites who married blacks or Asians or Hispanics. Mrs. Blocletters and I enjoy the friendships of several interracial couples. It’s not rare by far.
And notice I said ignorant, not stupid. She doesn’t know my family. But, while ignorance isn’t its own excuse, I can’t wish it away either. I can wish, however, that ignorant people think for a moment before they speak. Even if you suspected a child was adopted, why would you ask a stranger such a question?
Clearly, ignorance is here to stay and I need to come up with a better response than a dumbfounded “yes” next time I get this question. How about: “No, I won her in a card game a few days ago. Cute, isn’t she?” I’m interested to hear other snappy responses.
Jeremy Verdusco lives in Michigan.
Do you have a story to tell? Send it to Honeysmoke@Honeysmoke.com
Wannabeathlete, a newlywed, writes about the questions she and her husband tackle. I am glad the author, who doesn’t usually write about race on her blog, penned this essay. It has one of the best comeback lines I’ve read for those times when strangers ask ignorant questions. Full Disclosure: I used to be her husband’s college professor. (Yes, writing that sentence just made me feel very old.) Enjoy.
People always wonder how being a mixed race couple impacts our lives. I’m happy to say that the impact is negligible – at least in my opinion. But there are a few zingers that stick out in my mind.
1. “Together or Separate?”
This bothers me to no end. Far too often when we go out to eat, we get this question when the waiter/cashier gives us our bill. HELLO. We are MARRIED. Is that so hard to believe? Now, I have been a server and I understand that this is sometimes hard to distinguish – it could be a client, a co-worker, etc. But there are some times that the question seems unwarranted. Very unwarranted in my opinion. Drives me crazy. Maybe I’m overreacting. My husband thinks I am. Oh well.
2. Our Godson
We are so lucky to have this little boy in our life. But bringing him places often raises eyebrows. People often look at me with disdain, and their look says, ‘So you got knocked up by some white guy and now this guy is taking care of your kid. Tsk tsk.” Or they see my husband running after this cute little white boy and freak out. It’s okay. He’s with us. I think it is so precious how our godson has attached himself to my husband. He calls him “Uncle Nate” and the two are inseparable. Our godson even had my husband come to his school recently for their “Father’s Day Breakfast”. Cutest thing ever.
3. “Is He Yours?”
We are not the only mixed race marriage in the family. Nate’s brother and sister-in-law are mixed as well. And they have a precious little boy. Isn’t he the cutest?
I was talking with my sister-in-law today about the blog I found and she told me about an incident she had in Target:
Just like the lady in target who asked if Malachi was mine.
I said, “He is now, I found him back there in the toys.”
This made me laugh so hard. I think the bottom line is usually ignorance – not malice. Did you know that 1 in 7 marriages are now interracial? Even though he identifies as black, the president of our country is the product of an interracial relationship. The world is changing. Slowly. But it is changing.
Is your marriage interracial? Do you have any stories to share on this topic?
Do you have a story to tell? Send it to Honeysmoke@Honeysmoke.com
The beauty aisles are lined with products touting the benefits of Argan oil. The oil has been added to skincare, nail, and hair potions. If the law of supply and demand is in effect, then a lot of people are demanding a relatively low supply of this oil. I’ve seen it online for as much as $96 for four ounces. Ouch! There are less expensive versions, which also have less Argan oil in them, and others have been cut with coconut, jojoba or some other oil that is listed in fine print on the back of the bottle.
Women love this product for its hydrating properties. It is a light oil, and it produces an intense shine. Of course, it can only be found in one place on the planet: Morocco. The oil is extracted from the nuts of the fruit the tree produces and is harvested from the tree by women who work in co-operatives.
Like many women, I wanted to try out this Argan oil. I love shea butter, and I have an ongoing love affair with henna. It took me a few weeks to zero in on some pure oil at an acceptable price. I found it at Mountainroseherbs.com, where a four-ounce bottle for $17.
I’ve been using it for a few weeks now. I use a dropper to take the oil from the bottle and to put a few drops in my hand. I rub my hands together and then spread the oil over my hair. (I haven’t been bold enough to use it on my face, though folks swear it helps fight off all those bad things in the atmosphere.) The oil is expeller pressed, which means no solvents or anything else that could change or weaken its properties were used to extract it.
I love the shine and the non-oily feeling Argan oil produces, but the real test will come this winter when the air has been stripped of all its moisture. I’ll keep you posted.
Have you experimented with Argan oil?
Beautiful Little Girl: Do y’all speak Spanish?
Nadia: No, we don’t speak Spanish.
Beautiful Little Girl: You look like you do.
Simone: Do you speak Spanish?
Beautiful Little Girl: Yes.
I cannot place a value on overhearing such conversations. While the rest of the world is debating the validity of a fictional book and movie, I’m sitting front row and center, watching our future navigate this thing called race.
I could not have imagined how many ways people would ask, “What are you?” We have been asked whether our daughters are Brazilian and Asian. A few weeks ago, someone asked Simone whether her father is Chinese, and someone else asked if she was mixed with black and white.
I had worried — Sometimes I still do — about the questions. A part of me feared people would make assumptions and taunt my girls. I try to arm Simone and Nadia with answers. After witnessing how my daughters handle these situations, I am not sure I need to intervene.
The conversation above was so mature. The Beautiful Little Girl spied two little girls who didn’t look one way or another. She checked her hunch and was skeptical when it was not validated. She was certainly on to something. Nadia, who can be a bit blunt and sassy, answered her question without judgment. Even when the Beautiful Little Girl told Simone and Nadia she was doubtful about the answer, there was no back and forth. Simone, a reporter-in-training, figured there had to be a reason why the little girl asked and turned the question around. Then I heard giggles and squeals and laughter.
With all the mature stuff out of the way, they got down to the business of playing with each other. I think we adults can learn a thing or two from the children.
In THE TANNING OF AMERICA: How the Culture of Hip-Hop Rewrote the Rules of the New Economy (Gotham Books; On-Sale 9-8-11), Stoute draws from his diverse background in the music industry and brand marketing to chronicle how an upstart art form – street poetry set to beats – came to define urban culture as the embodiment of cool. Steve Stoute’s understanding of how hip-hop morphed into mainstream culture enabled him to relate to a new generation of thinking, which catapulted him to the forefront of pop culture – where he still remains today.
In THE TANNING OF AMERICA Steve Stoute shows how a company can connect with the youth market without seeming inauthentic and staying true to their core brands. This ‘tanning’ phenomenon – the positive, powerful potential of urban youth culture that, when harnessed properly, can bring disparate groups of people together – raised the generation of black, Hispanic, white and Asian consumers who have the same ‘mental complexion’ based on shared experiences and values. Today’s consumer is a mindset, not a race – and when businesses get it right, and have a proper understanding of tanning, success is imminent.
Steve Stoute’s knowledge and observations will allow readers to find success in a new generation’s bold reinterpretation of the American Dream.
I am intrigued by this conversation and the book. What do you think?
Really? An interracial couple couldn’t agree on what to do with their daughter’s hair, so they went on national television to have entertainers tell them who is right and who is wrong. I’ve watched The Marriage Ref once or twice, and I don’t find it all that funny or enlightening. In this episode, which aired Monday, Aug. 14, the white father wants his little girl to express herself, while the black mom wants her to look presentable.
If I had to take the matter seriously, I’d side with the mother. There’s nothing wrong with a child expressing herself, as long as that’s something she wants to do. Nothing in the clip leaves that impression. All the viewer learns is that the father simply doesn’t want to do hair, and that’s too bad.
Here’s the thing. These people aren’t serious. There is way too much acting and exaggerating in the clip, and the viewer later learns the father wants his daughter to be “discovered.” I think he and his wife are using the show to get their daughter on television. They got the exposure they wanted. I just wish it had not been at the expense of a child and her beautiful, natural hair.
A new study on black relationships picks apart dating and marriage myths and shows how media have manipulated facts and figures.
For example, take the popular statistic that more black women than black men have earned bachelor’s degrees. It’s true. So is this: “Nationwide, although more than 800,000 more black women than black men have at least a bachelor’s degree, almost 200,000 more black men than black women earn more than $75,000 per year.”
That piece of information helps put the matter in perspective, and the debate has often lacked balance. As the study notes, “entrepreneurial elements of America have found a variety of creative ways to benefit financially from black females’ anxieties at the expense of black males’ egos. Preachers, entertainers turned relationship experts, filmmakers and news documentaries have manipulated statistics to stoke the fear necessary to sell their preferred cut-rate brand of catharsis or solace.”
I’m familiar with one of those “creative ways” some have found to deal with the matter. It is easy. Date and marry someone of a different race. A number of web sites, businesses and books tout the idea.
It’s not that easy, though. For years, women and men have dreamed about their ideal mate. They have pursued this vision, playing it over and over again in their minds. It is tough to insert a new man or woman in the leading role. In other words, change is hard. I can’t change how someone thinks. She has to do that.
There are probably more reasons than I can count for why I was open to dating and then marrying someone of a different race. I lived on military bases as a child. I lived overseas as a child. I was exposed to many cultures, thoughts and ideas. I witnessed two interracial relationships in my extended family. No one told me I couldn’t, shouldn’t or better not date someone of another race.
Believer that I am, I’ve stopped suggesting my black girlfriends date someone of another race. Some are not open to the idea; others are offended by the mere mention of it. I accept that I can’t organize love and that what works for me may not work for you.
Add in your own bluesy guitar riff between verses
My daughter is a first-grader
Can ride the bus to school
It’s a five-minute ride
Makes so much sense too
Well, she boarded the bus
Told the driver her name
Sat next to a girl
Went on the first day
Picked her up a little later
All seemed a go
Then my daughter said something
She told me no.
Well, it’s more convenient.
Probably safer too.
The little girl won’t do it.
So, what’s a parent to do
I’ve got the blues
The school bus blues
She’d rather ride in the SUV
So, what’s a parent to do
Get your skin act together, she said. You are not a young thing anymore. You must take care of your skin.
After she whipped my skin and me into shape, she sent me home with an arm full of items. They work well — and are expensive.
That’s the problem with my skin care regimen. I don’t want to spend that kind of money on lotions and potions. Plus, I want something with natural ingredients. I had three choices: I could either keep purchasing the expensive stuff, mix my own concoction or buy it from a reputable organic store.
Cue Mission Impossible music.
With my skin in good shape, I tried to find an affordable solution. I already knew about Bentonite Clay and use it for facials. Bentonite Clay is available at many health food stores for $8 or $9 for 16 ounces.
Armed with that information, I was sure I could find something organic and affordable to exfoliate and moisturize my skin. I clicked around and found Mountain Rose Herbs Cleansing Grains.
For $5.25, Mountain Rose Herbs offers two ounces of White Kaolin clay, organic Oat Bran, Almond meal, organic Corn meal, powdered Rose petals, and a blend of pure steam distilled essential oils. It smells divine. Mix a pinch or two with a little spring water or tea, apply to face in circular motions and rinse.
Warning: Don’t put anything wet in the jar, not even a finger, unless you want to contaminate all the goodies. Use a plastic or wooden spoon to scoop out a little each use.
For the body, try dead sea salt. It is the main ingredient in many body scrubs. Mountain Rose Herbs has a one-pound bag of dead sea salt for $4.50. Want to spend even less? Buy a five-pound bag here. Need some aromatherapy with that? Draw a bath, sprinkle in a tablespoon or so of dead sea salt and a few drops of an essential oil. Or, mix dead sea salt with a carrier oil, say jojoba, and use it to exfoliate the entire body. Both recipes provide an instant spa experience without the spa price. Enjoy!
Do you have any money-saving beauty secrets? Spill!