Say No To Racism.
I don't have the words.
This has been a blog post I have thought of writing before but it is hard for me.
Why?
Say No To Racism:
I am the Mom of a brown boy. No longer a boy really. He is close to being a man. I am his Mom. I am white.
That never meant a thing to me you see. I have always looked him and never saw a color. I often forget he is brown because to me the color of his skin doesn't matter.
However, he has experienced racism. We have experienced racism.
I have been quiet for far too long.
Today, that stops.
It is not fair that he has had to experience racist comments. He has had people call him names like "burnt cracker" on the soccer field. I have had white parents ask me who my child is while he plays and when I reply with his number they say "no I asked who your child is". We have had many people ask him if he speaks Spanish throughout the years. This started when he was 12 months old. We have had people ask me "if I am his "real Mom". We are often asked personal questions that are inappropriate because I am white and he is brown.
This is just a little snapshot into our story.
So today, I don't really have any answers. I am just a Mom of a beautiful son and I want him to grow up and be treated the same way that white people are treated.
If I didn't have him I most likely would have never known.
But I do.
And so I am sharing this with you to say that it has to end.
Stop calling names. Stop teaching your kids to call names. My son was called a burnt cracker when he was 8 years old on the soccer field. And the kid who called him that learned it at home.
STOP.
When a woman tells you her sons soccer number don't try to correct her because he doesn't look like her.
STOP.
Just because someone is brown you should NOT ask them if they speak Spanish. You should NOT try to speak to them in Spanish.
STOP.
And please for the love of God do not ask a Mother who looks different than her son if she is his real Mom.
STOP.
Please stop asking inappropriate personal questions due to race. They are hurtful and they are rude.
My son may not have my skin tone and he may not have my eyes. But we share the same heart. He is mine.
And. I have not shared this sooner because it hurts. It brings me to tears. This is just the highlight reel. I know there is more to come but I pray that it ends.
So today I am sharing our story.
No Color, No Religion, No Nationality should come between us.
But, it does. Let's be the change.
Say No To Racism.
If you don't understand it is time educate yourself. If you have made mistakes in the past it is not too late to change. We can make a difference.
We are called to love our neighbor. Let's start today.
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Melissa is a soccer mom who has been married to her best friend for 21 years. She loves sharing recipes, travel reviews and tips that focus on helping busy families make memories.
Debbie
Very well said...brought me to tears. I am white. However, I am like you. I don't see color. Some of my best friends are brown. I call them my sisters from another mother. I love them more than some of my actual family members. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings. Your son is beautiful. Praying for an abundance of love and peace.
Kimberely Sallah
Well said! As a mom of a two biracial / black girls, I hear you, I see you and I feel you. I have often had people ask me if I am their real mother. Kids have told them they are adopted. They have been called, order, "N" word, zebra and the list goes on. They been followed in stores while shopping without me. I have people love me at work and among friends until they see my husband and my children. Honestly, as an adult, I like it when they show me their true colors because they help me weed my garden. However, when they hurt my kids, I hurt, and this has to change. It's not enough for white people to say they are not racist, they must be anti-racist, call their friends out and stop with the microaggressions. If they don't know what microaggressions are, I hope they take the time to do a little research.
Kimberly Stroh
I can't believe a child, at his age, would even have to endure name calling on a soccer field. Thank you for sharing your story. I've tweeted it!
Melissa Jennings
It started at age 3 with name calling. He doesn't remember the earlier times. Age 3. As a new born the questions and comments we received would literally break your heart. Are you his real Mom? I can't even. When I hear someone say "real Mom" it literally kills me. I have educated thousands of people in my lifetime and will continue to until my last breath.
Linda
I follow you as a “stockpiling mom”. I have used many of your recipes and check regularly for new material All I can say is AMEN! I plan to share your words with as many people as I can! As a mom of an adopted child, no words sting more than “are you his real mom?”