This is not going to be a typical post for me. I need to brain dump though so...
My nephews are black.
I should say two of my nephews are African American... they're also German, Irish, Scottish, Italian/Sicilian, Dutch, English, Nordic, Middle Eastern (Syria and Iran), French-Canadian, Polish and I'm sure there's a couple that I'm forgetting. (Mutts. My Mom called us Mutts.)
Can you tell?
No. You just see that they're black. It's not your fault, it's just genetics... The African features just win out as most easily recognizable. I don't see it that way, of course because they're my kids... I see the sum of everything they are.
I am white. I have dark features for someone considered white. I've been asked my ethnicity more times than I can count in the past three months alone but...
I've never been called a nigger.
I've been maliciously attacked for many things. For how weird I am, mostly, and my Nana in particular would tell me not to listen to them because being weird is fabulous and they're ignorant fools.
I could tell them that, of course.
What will it mean though, coming from me? It worked with my Nana because she was weird too, here was someone that I looked up to that related to my struggle drying my tears and telling me the best way to win was not to fight, to love them, to 'kill them with kindness'.
It didn't work when my Mom said those things. She didn't get it, she wasn't weird, she was my Mom she had to say that.
So what else exactly am I supposed to say when my nine year old little boy stomps into the house, tears in his eyes screaming "XXXXX called me a nigger!" And my heart breaks because I see the pain on his face.
I tell him I understand the pain of being put down for who you are, for something fundamental about yourself that you cannot change, and tell him the things my Nana told me... Especially in the cultural mindset of today... how is a nine year old going to be able to relate that?
"You don't understand, you're white!"
"... So are you..."
Sigh.
And as expected, not understanding the point that I'm trying to make, he goes up to his room upset. How can I help but wonder...
Are my boys going to be able to feel comfortable and secure in a world where they're being ripped in half by race wars? How can I help them through this in a way that doesn't ask them to sacrifice any part of who they are?
Is my love going to be enough?