Chocolate and Gravy

Apparently, it turns out Brendan really is describing white people as "gravy". Last week after Mass, he referred to the two priests (one black and one white) at our church as the "chocolate" one and the "gravy" one. For the life of me, I can't figure out why his three-year-old brain decided to go with gravy. In the almost year that Bren has been with us, I imagine we have had gravy less than five times. Perhaps it is because we are in Florida and most white people pretty much have year-round tans here...? You got me. Either way I am fascinated by how our society views skin color, particularly through a child's eyes.

I've told this story a million times, so I apologize if you have heard it, but I remember when Aidan was around Bren's age, and she was so curious about people being different colors. We were in a Starbucks drive-thru one day, and as I was ordering, Aidan piped up from her car seat, "Mama, ask him what color he is!" (I did not, but I sure laughed, a bit uncomfortably!)

I would venture to say that most children are just curious. In preschool, children are intrigued by differences--in fact, I would say, it takes an adult or some media influence to lead them to negatively view differences. When Aidan was three, we lived at Fort Bragg and I enrolled her in the part-day Child Development Center (CDC) preschool. She had not been there long when she told me that she was not going to play with the "brown girl" at preschool. I remember being floored. We went straight into the CDC and explained to one of her teachers, who was black, that we were certain Aidan had heard this from another child at preschool, and this needed to be addressed. We were completely dismissed. She insisted that Aidan must have heard that somewhere else. Apparently, she did not realize that I keep my children in a bubble. I am certain she heard it there. We pulled Aidan from that preschool that very same day (which was by the grace of God because we then spent three wonderful years as Aidan and Cole Patrick went through preschool at FirstSchool in Fayetteville).

When we were waiting to be matched, one of the books I was reading was titled, You're Chocolate, I'm Vanilla. One day someone at my childrens' elementary school said, "I don't like the name of that book." Okay...not really sure what to do with that. What I have learned is that adults have much bigger race issues than children. For the life of me, however, I cannot figure out WHY it is so complicated, when I think it can be as simple as it is seen through child's eyes. Am I oversimplifying things when I say, "REALLY?! It is skin color! At some point, we may all just be a blend anyway, and what is wrong with that?"

It has been almost a year, and I still feel the eyes watching us because we look different. What I can't figure out is why we don't fit in and why is race still such an issue? Sometimes I feel like the place where I belong is no longer clear. I feel like I know the secret handshake, but I'm not part of the club. One point that has always kept me going through the challenges of adoption is the fact that not one of us will be worse off for choosing to be a trans-racial family. Aidan, Cole Patrick and Brendan are going to be that much more socially aware--that much more comfortable with another race. Undeniably, a step forward.

Alas, I am not completely naive. I am fully aware that we have a life time of race issues ahead of us. My hope is that our family will be a positive example--others will see that it is perfectly okay to mix black and white, or chocolate and gravy, as the case may be.