The Question

"Oh, he is adorable. Where is he from?"

The woman at the restaurant meant well. She had smiled at Little Man as she had passed by our table earlier, and she continued to smile as she asked what she surely thought was an innocent question. We were on the last leg of a long drive home after visiting family for Thanksgiving; the fatigue was real and coupled with the fact we would likely never see this woman again, it would have been easy to use that as an excuse to give a snappy retort. I also knew I had heard her quite clearly-- she didn't ask where we were from, just him. As I quickly decided how to respond, I realized this wouldn't be the last time I'd be in this position. I chose to answer in kind by simply saying the city we were all from.

I know it should be standard practice to assume positive intent, but if anything the current climate in our country prompts me to be on the defensive. When I see people wearing shirts or driving cars with bumper stickers featuring certain ideas or support for certain public figures, I find myself standing a little closer to Little Man. I listen more closely as a protective measure, ready to defend him as needed. Unfair? Maybe, but I don't care. For all the innocent but misguided questions, there are pointed and discriminatory assertions. 

The woman's immediate belief that Little Man had to be from somewhere else just because he is Black is one thing; the fact she believed she was entitled to that information just because she asked nicely is another. The amount of attention we get out in public can be uncomfortable, and when it comes with a feeling of entitlement to know more an odd boundary is drawn. We have always been open with sharing our story since we feel it can be useful to others (and instances like this are a perfect example as to why). However, it's also our job to control the narrative. There are parts of Little Man's story that belong to no one but him. He is also too young to educate others or to advocate for himself. We don't want to make him our "cause", but letting moments like this pass without addressing them does him a disservice. I can't fight his battles for him, but for now I can start laying a foundation for him.