love, the whitest white girl

The above picture was taken not too long after the
girls came home. Miss little M wanted to take a walk
with Daddy and it brought tears to my eyes.

Interracial parenting is different than I expected. Before
the girls came home, we were required to take an overview
class of interracial parenting. It was a brief glance at
what it might be like. However, since the girls have arrived,
I have lots of experience navigating through the maze of
American racism. I have learned that racism comes in all
kinds of packages and angles.

The hot spot around these parts is Target. I know. I should stay
away with 2 girls. Exactly. I have 2 girls and Target is fun! Two
weeks ago the girls and I were walking through the store. They both
had been playing hard all morning and their hair was pushed back
into a headband. I will gladly admit that it was not one of our stellar hair
days but they are children. I had THREE women stop me and ask if
I needed suggestions for hair products. I assured them that I had all
the mentioned items. The last woman shook her head and kept moving.

Awesome.

So, my good friend, said she would braid the girls' hair. My friend is
African American and she did an amazing beaded style. I was trying so
hard to learn and it was just over my skill level. However, I was SO excited
to head (no pun intended) out in public. The boys even got a kick out of the
girls running ahead with clinking hair.
So, we go to Target for a few grocery items. We happily
make our way around the store and then go to the checkout.

checkout gal: hello.
me: hi there.
checkout gal: did you do their hair?
me: no! a good friend of mine did it. i love it!
checkout gal: i thought so. not a one of you can do it.
*silence*
me: oh, well it was great to watch and i hope to learn.
it seemed hard. (wish i could erase honesty here)
checkout gal: it actually is easy. we know how to do it.

True story. I did not know what to say to her. I am not
very quick on my feet. I thought about it later. I don't know
what I should have done. It bothers me that miss M heard the
exchange. I knew I had to leave quick and keep it simple. I felt
very aware in the moment that I was not their biological
mother. I felt like I somehow needed to prove my worth to
the girls.

Navigating through racial issues is hard. It takes time and
research to know how to respond. We have had some wonderful
interactions. However, I cringe when people tell me "I have always
wanted a brown baby. Where did you get her?". Really?

We did not adopt because it was trendy. I like clothes. I could have
bought a really nice closet of clothes to be trendy. We adopted because
we felt it was a calling in our lives. I thought long and hard about the fact
that I am the whitest white girl around (as one African American friend tells
me). I get it. However, we both knew without a doubt God had called us to
adopt the girls. They were our daughters.

The girls and I have begun talking about our hearts matching.
We talk about our skin and how our skin does not match.
Here is how I explain it to the girls:

We have a secret!
God matched our hearts.
God knew you needed a family and we had been
praying about God bringing children to us.
And then it happened...
God showed us that our hearts matched!

I suspect we will have to have some open and honest discussions about race
in our family. It is healthy to talk about the good and hard elements of
being in an interracial family. I feel privileged to be a part of a family so
uniquely knitted together by the God of the universe. I hope our differences
are also the source of our amazing strength.