This is America, Part 2

Recently we attended a small event at a local park. We were having a nice time with Little Man when two large pickup trucks pulled into the parking lot. One toted a large American flag; the other's flag included a profanity aimed at President Biden. Husband and I immediately looked at our son, and it didn't take much for us to decide it would be best to say our goodbyes and leave. We didn't feel like he was in danger, per se, but that kind of open hostility did not bode well. Do I think these men were racists? That would be a bit of a snap judgement, although they were inferring their loyalty to a former leader whose words and actions -- and, consequently, many of his followers -- have demonstrated just that.  They were heading towards a group in another part of the park, so our chances of crossing paths were slim.  However, our instincts told us to play it safe.  As we drove home Husband looked over at Little Man and murmured, "You are such a brave boy. You see everything with love."  How I wish we could say the same for us all.

I'm angry, I'm heartbroken, but sadly I'm not surprised. It's no secret that this is still a country very much divided.  We are suddenly navigating life as a transracial family, and while we have have been surrounded by such positivity and support we admittedly have also been fairly isolated (thanks to COVID and the needs of an infant).  Other than our time at the park, we've only faced one time of discomfort -- on our drive home after his birth, the need for gas and a restroom forced us to stop in a small town that openly advertised a radio station dedicated to "white pride".  We kept Little Man in the car and quickly took turns taking care of business; while we didn't want to judge an entire town based on one billboard, we also couldn't help but be on guard wondering what others around us were thinking.  As an educator and as a person I've tried to listen and learn as much as I can about racism, but up until a few months ago I wouldn't have considered myself as someone truly doing the work. I made an effort to bring more awareness and discussion into my classroom, but I can't say I was someone standing up and taking action. I wasn't actively calling people out or in -- I was a sympathetic but inactive bystander. There are many educators on Twitter, both Black and white, that I silently admire from afar for being change makers. I always told myself I needed to face the discomfort and truth that comes with being a true ally (or as many term it, a co-conspirator) in facing down racism, but at the end of the day I can't say I ever really used my voice for good.  I wrote about this extensively in a previous post (This is America) over a year ago, but it was mostly hypothetical.  At that time we had prepared for the possibility of adopting a Black child, but it was before that possibility became a reality.  Looking back on that post I can already see subtle differences in my thinking and framing; for instance, I used the term African-American instead of Black -- not wrong, but indicative that I still had something to learn.  I wrote of many "what ifs", and I pondered how to move from thought to action.  So I suppose in some ways my thinking hasn't really changed at all.

Little Man's arrival is forcing me to re-examine everything from a completely different lens. I have no excuse now, because by doing nothing to help others I fail to help my own son. I certainly had no intention of facing down the men in the parking lot today -- their public display signaled they weren't  likely open to another point of view. I also wonder if leaving was the right thing to do; would it have been braver or more impactful to stay and show we were above that? Would it have even mattered? I'll never know. However, I do realize this won't be the last time we are put in an unfortunate situation because of our family. 

There of course is another layer to this -- while Husband and I may face things one way, Little Man will face it another way entirely.  Our experience with ignorance or bigotry will never be the same as his. Teaching him how to walk this world as a proud Black individual will be hard enough; doing so without actually knowing how that feels will make it even harder. When he sees how we act during instances like today it could shape his world view both positively and negatively, so we have to figure out how to keep him safe while not seeking that safety by avoiding conflict or change. Right now he is blissfully unaware of so much in the world, but trying to shield him from the bad will also hold him back from reveling in the good. Today reminded me that my little one won't be little for long.

So, the work begins now.