For the first time in my life I find myself unsure of adoption. In the wake of the death of Mike Brown and the resulting chaos that has followed I’m no longer completely secure in the notion that adoption is for me. I don’t know if I can deal with having to worry that as my kids become teenagers that someone could so easily alter their lives and mine on the basis of skin color. How do you go through life wondering daily if someone is going to change yours because they don’t like the look of your kid? It isn’t even just about death. Knowing the possibility of a situation evolving into a match of he said-she said is gut wrenching. Rarely do such cases end well and for teenagers the ramifications can be much worse. It isn’t just having people angry with you; it becomes something that could follow you for the rest of your life.
This is the first time I’ve actually tackled this subject. More often than not my thoughts center on the day that my kids realize they don’t look like me. The thought of being asked personal questions about my kids in front of my kids has never bothered me beyond the rudeness of strangers. Worrying about what could befall them because of another’s actions however, does. How do you prepare your kids to deal with the possibility that people are going to say or do things to them that are unfair or dangerous because of the way they look? Is that even completely possible? Growing up I was taught to ignore strangers and hateful comments but things get twisted when those comments are racial slurs and strangers could mean being put in jail or being shot. Because that is the world we live in. Maybe by the time I have kids that will have changed but I don’t really think that will happen. Wishful thinking is not always productive.
Being completely and totally honest that scares me. I’m not alright with the odds. It isn’t ok now and it certainly won’t be fine if it is happening to my kids. That isn’t one of those things you can just sit by and watch happen. That’s not watching your toddler learn to walk or ride a bike. It is much deeper and the results last longer. There is a reason the old adage ‘Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me’ is a bold-faced lie. Words cut like knives. They leave deep wounds that leave scars. Doing what I do as a writer I understand the power of words, in fact I use that power to my advantage. Unfortunately they can be used as easily to the detriment of people as they are to build another up.
I understand knowing where your kids are and who they are hanging out with. That is completely justifiable. However, that doesn’t justify harmful actions. There isn’t an argument that is convincing enough to make such a thing alright. I don’t care if my child is wearing a hoodie and walking around by himself. Why is the automatic response ‘thug’? Will my children be roaming around by themselves? No they probably won‘t. The point being that just because they are African or Asian or Cambodian or whatever ethnicity they wind up being the thought of anyone causing harm to come to them, even if it isn’t bodily galls me.
It wasn’t how I was raised and I’m not sure how people can think it is an acceptable way to live. How do you treat another human like they are an animal? I do not hold a medical degree but last time I checked everyone bleeds the same no matter their skin color. They still feel pain. What makes their suffering any different than yours? Deriving joy from another’s pain is horrible but I’m of the opinion that to even live like this is horrible in and of itself.
The one thing I do know is that never before have I been conflicted like I am tonight. Years of knowing that God was calling me to adopt have been overshadowed with doubts of whether or not I’m the right person for such a role. I’ll be honest it feels like being dumped from a wonderful dream into a nightmare. Parenting is hard; I know that without even having to be a parent. I’m just not sure I’m strong enough to handle the many hurts that come along with it.
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