When I was in the third grade a new girl transferred to our two room schoolhouse. She had strawberry blonde hair and dimples. She became instantly popular out of the 7 third graders in the class. I was eager to be her friend and would often ask her to play on the playground but she would run away when I would approach. On Valentine’s Day I discovered she didn’t want the cookies I brought simply because they were from me, despite the yummy red sprinkles on my heart shaped sugar cookies. When I finally mustered up the courage to ask her why she didn’t want to play with me she said simply, “because you’re brown.” Immediately I blinked back tears as shame sat heavy on my shoulders. It wouldn’t be the last time I encountered racism whether from a third grader or an adult.
That encounter convinced me something was wrong with me, something I couldn’t change or grow out of. Throughout my adolescence, I struggled to accept my differences while I was surrounded by peachy skin. I was no dummy witnessing how white people were treated versus people of color. I fantasized about being white and how that would change everything and solve all my problems. I would be liked, unafraid, and free of anxiety over where I came from. My dark skin was my curse, leaving me embarrassed and ashamed to simply be me. As I got older and Christ made a home in me I witnessed his redemptive hand in my life, authoring every day and drawing near in every heartache. As an adult, I delight in my creamy brown skin, proud of the heritage it represents.
My son, who is Ugandan finds himself in the same cycle of defeat feeling his skin is his cross to bear. He shares almost daily, through tears, how he wishes he could be white. He tells me how white people are happy and they never have problems. He sees the preferences in white superheroes to the characters in his storybooks. His feelings are real, not to be dismissed. We encourage him with the truth that God made his exactly who he is to be, smart as a whip, dark skinned, and brave. We have friends of all colors that he loves to be around and we pray he finds himself rooted in Jesus both now and in years to come.
Image by: Pix-Elated Photography
I know how this story ends if he believes in Jesus of the scriptures, not the small wimpy one we create that fits our needs, but the one true King, the one who saves us from injustice, prejudice, shame, guilt, and isolation.
I’m raising a black son in a world where there is inequality, racism, and prejudice. He feels it at five years old and he will certainly feel it as he gets older. As a mother, my job is to educate, encourage, and stand with him for truth, grace, and justice.
In our variance of color, we should find cause for celebration, not division. When we attack, dismiss, or distance someone for their behavior, socio-economic standing, criminal record, or how they present themselves at the Super Bowl from our perfect perch we heap shame and guilt rather than love and grace.
No matter what color we are we can stand as equals before the throne of Jesus asking him to change our ways, help us to see our own brokenness, and love another regardless of where they come from or what they’ve been through.
For more on this topic, check out how I’m building a healthy racial identity in my child.
How beautiful that God made you his momma!
I’m sorry for the harm anyone has suffered at the careless, self-centered words and actions of peach-colored people. It must break God’s heart something awful.
PS: I’m adopted, too. 🙂
Thank you for the kind words! It hasn’t been easier but so sweet.
Beautifully written! I’m celebrating our differences along with our common grace and truth in Jesus. Sure it was the other girls loss not having your cookies or friendship! 🙂
-Jena (fellow Hope Writer)
Thank you, Jena! God has been so faithful as my identity has become rooted in his unending character.
Look forward to checking out your blog!
Thanks for sharing this article in the Hope*Writers FB group Tiffany! I’ve had it open in my browser and am just now sitting down to peruse your blog. I also write about race and being a transracial adoptive family;-) Look forward to following along!
Thanks Lindsey! Can’t wait to check out your blog!
Lovely article. God has a good purpose for you. You are a beautiful mother. 🙂
Thank you, Joyce!
I am so sorry you went through that as a child and still have to endure today. I loved what you said about race needing to come together and be equals. As you raise your son you encourage, educate and raise him up. I also educate my children on the injustice of the world, people unfortunately not being forward thinking, I want my kids to be aware of their skin color, not because it is important but because sometimes people will be treated either negatively or positively because of it. I want my kids aware so when they are adults they see this behavior and correct it. Hopefully these little ones we are raising will grow up to have a wonderful way of looking at race, as simply the color of skin. It is our job to set the next generation up right.
Thank you, Emily. It’s made me tender and strong all at the same time. Believing the sweetest days of understanding his identity in Christ are to come for my son.
You are great mom and I totally understand your feelings.
Thank you! Jericho is a sweet and strong boy. I am believing for good all the days of his life!
Growing as a minority too I understand what you went through as a child. It is so important to explain this to our children so that they dont discriminate others and know that everyone is equal.
Yes, I totally agree! Thanks for reading, Agy!
I can totally relate. When I came to the U.S. from Peru my teenage years were torture. It was the time where I was trying to find myself, who I was. I would come home crying from school. I didn’t know the language, and I didn’t look like the kids at school. And nothing could change that. I hated my hair! So puffy! So wild! I hated the color of my skin. And I had no friends, no one wanted to approach me. I was different. I felt so alone. And during that time I began to reach out to God like I had never done so before and began writing songs. God made me feel so loved. No matter who I was or what I looked like. God is so good! Now I no longer hate my hair! It’s still wild and crazy but now I embrace it. And I don’t have any kids yet, but I pray the Lord uses me to teach him or her that they are special and God has created them with purpose and love, no matter what anyone may say.
You and your son are incredibly transparent. Thanks for sharing your experiences, God is glorified!
Thank you, Holly! It’s been quite the journey but God has been so faithful!
That must break your heart! I hope we can adopt one day and most likely the child will have a different ethnicity than us. It’ll be a challenge to make our voice echoing God’s truth louder than the noise of the world. Way to go!
Thank you!!!
Thanks for writing this. I found your link on Hope*Writers. I have had many conversations like this with my children as well. Even though we are raising our family in a black culture (we live in Haiti) my Haitian children still have the perception that us (their white parents) or the white visitors or the other white missionary kids or the white kids on their TV shows are happier than their black neighbors. It’s so tricky here. I can’t even imagine what it will be like when we one day move back to the States. The problem isn’t just in America. It is a universal problem.
Jillian, what incredible perspective. May our babies know the fierce love of Jesus!
I think your honesty is frank and the fact that you can relate to your sons struggles will make it somewhat easier process.
I recently watched an advert about “washing powder” in China and I was horrified at the blatant racism that people found so humorous.
Being of mixed heritage and having a little boy of mixed heritage I realise my job will be so much harder in today’s society!
But your simple message of accepting and embracing who God chose and designed you to be is powerful.
Be the best you that you can be not a second rate version of someone else.
I love it!
Thank you for the kind words and a definite YES on building our children up in who God intended! Blessings, Ash!
First, your son is beautiful! I pray that each day he doubts that, that someone will come along and remind him how beautiful he really is. 🙂
Second, I’m one of those peachy-skinned people you mention, and I want to leave some love for you and your family. I spent my early childhood in a town with many varieties of tones and cultures, and my best friends were always darker than me. I found myself daydreaming about having beautiful brown skin because I had such white skin that you could see my veins, and the hair on my arms and legs were so prominent. I hated being pale. Other kids made fun of me for the scars on my legs, the color of my hair, and my freckles.
My dad was an alcoholic, my mom worked 3 jobs to support us since she was a single mother with no help, and life was hard. Very hard. I share this to say no, we aren’t happier. We all have crosses to bear. My hope is that I can ease the burdens of my neighbors by offering the love and kindness I was refused as a child. So I totally agree. Jesus gives us value and sees us for what we really are: His precious children. He paid a steep cost for all of us, and to demean another person who was created in His image is to practice prejudice against God.
Thank you so much for posting such a beautiful post. 🙂
Thank you for your kind words, Katie!