Race

When we were preparing to adopt, we immediately felt drawn to Africa.  I know it was God who put that calling on our hearts.  We both felt it.  We knew we would be a transracial family.  So, like I do with anything, I read up on how to handle being a transracial family.  I went to a couple of classes taught by adults who grew up in transracial families.  What I have learned is that even though I prepared as much as I could, I still didn't fully grasp it until we started living it.

We live in a fairly small community.  We stand out.  I will give you an example.  One day my dad had Judah for awhile while I was working.  He took Judah in with him to get an oil change on his car.  While sitting in the lobby a guy approached my dad asking him questions about Judah.  The guy then commented, "Oh, he must be the 'Smiths' son.  I work with someone who goes to the church they go to and I heard about them adopting a boy from Ethiopia."  So, even if we don't know people directly, they may know us.

And, for the most part, I feel like people have embraced us and supported us with his adoption.  We have a 16 year old whose friends adore Judah and spoil him.  Don't get me wrong, I think he's adorable.  He's got a great smile, beautiful eyes that just shine (in fact, our social worker made that comment in one of his updates and I completely agree).  But, what happens as he gets older?  How do I prepare him for the fact that to some people, he may no longer be a cute little boy, but see him as a black man?  People who will judge him based solely on his skin color (and, if you ever ask Judah, he is brown, not black). :)

Last night I watched the movie 42.  It was pretty tough to watch.  I cried throughout the movie, not a big ugly cry, but tears just streaming because I can't understand how people could be so cruel.  There was a moment where Jackie walked off the field and sat in the dugout by himself after being called so many things by the opposing team's coach.  Not one of his teammates came over to him to acknowledge that what had just happened was so wrong in so many ways.  No one defended him.  I just pictured Judah sitting there, all by himself with no one to comfort him and I just cried.

The hardest part for me is I'm going to have to teach him how to behave a certain way in certain situations just because he is a different color.  I wish that wasn't the world we live in, but it is reality.  People have made comments to me or in front of me about other races (stereotypes) without even thinking about me raising a child of a different race.  It's hard and it hurts.

This is an area where I may not be equipped to teach him all that I need to.  I pray daily that God gives me the wisdom when the time comes to have these conversations.  I know we have come a long way as far as racism goes, but I'd be lying if I said it doesn't exist.

Sometimes I feel like Judah is sheltered living in this small town where people know us.  When he grows up and moves on to college he won't be known as the "Smith" boy.  He will have a new identity.  When I took these classes that subject was addressed.  A lot of kids who grow up in transracial families struggle when they go to college.  They are trying to figure out who they really are.  This is hard stuff.  Stuff I thought I was prepared for, but now I know I have a lot of learning left to do.

One thing is for certain, I love this sweet, precious boy with all my heart and I will keep learning as much as I can because he is worth it!