My daughter has black skin and I have white skin. I thought a lot about skin color before, during, and after our adoption. I knew that some people with white skin would be bothered by the fact that I have a daughter with black skin, and some people with black skin would be bothered that my black-skinned daughter has a white-skinned mama. I also knew that most people wouldn't really care.
I knew that at some point I would talk to my daughter about where babies come from and that she didn't grow in my tummy. I knew that someday she would notice that our skin colors are different. I knew that someday her friends who don't have black skin would notice that their skin colors are different from hers.
Well, I can say that I have not yet been confronted by any upset white-skinned or black-skinned people because my daughter's skin and mine don't match. I have not had to talk about babies, and she doesn't yet notice that our skin colors are different.
BUT, today a friend of hers noticed his skin was different than hers and he commented. And you know what? It was totally awesome. Totally, completely, heart-melting awesome.
This friend of hers is 3 years older and treats her very well. He enjoys helping her talk ("Feven, say...stroller! Now say....Hello!"). He draws pictures for her and looks out for her in general. Today while he and his mom and sisters were hanging out with Feven and I, he rubbed her arm and he said in a little voice, "I really love dark skin."
That was it. Our first comment about skin color. "I really love dark skin." His mom and I looked at each other, not sure what to say if anything at all. She was stunned because it was the first time she ever heard him notice skin color (even though he has relatives with all different shades), and I was stunned because of how it came totally out of the blue and was just so incredibly sweet.
"I really love dark skin." No judgement. No baggage. No stereotypes or insinuations. Just an observation and an opinion.
"I really love dark skin." Well, sweet boy, I do too. And I especially love the little person wearing the dark skin.
I knew that at some point I would talk to my daughter about where babies come from and that she didn't grow in my tummy. I knew that someday she would notice that our skin colors are different. I knew that someday her friends who don't have black skin would notice that their skin colors are different from hers.
Well, I can say that I have not yet been confronted by any upset white-skinned or black-skinned people because my daughter's skin and mine don't match. I have not had to talk about babies, and she doesn't yet notice that our skin colors are different.
BUT, today a friend of hers noticed his skin was different than hers and he commented. And you know what? It was totally awesome. Totally, completely, heart-melting awesome.
This friend of hers is 3 years older and treats her very well. He enjoys helping her talk ("Feven, say...stroller! Now say....Hello!"). He draws pictures for her and looks out for her in general. Today while he and his mom and sisters were hanging out with Feven and I, he rubbed her arm and he said in a little voice, "I really love dark skin."
That was it. Our first comment about skin color. "I really love dark skin." His mom and I looked at each other, not sure what to say if anything at all. She was stunned because it was the first time she ever heard him notice skin color (even though he has relatives with all different shades), and I was stunned because of how it came totally out of the blue and was just so incredibly sweet.
"I really love dark skin." No judgement. No baggage. No stereotypes or insinuations. Just an observation and an opinion.
"I really love dark skin." Well, sweet boy, I do too. And I especially love the little person wearing the dark skin.
kids show us how we actually should be behaving as adults.
ReplyDeleteTears of joy!
ReplyDeleteWhat a gift from God that sweet boy is to your family. He must really have a tender spot for Feven. Hugs. Ebony
ReplyDelete