Six

Although Nghia and I were in immediate agreement that we would like to adopt an African American baby, it is not a decision we have taken lightly.When I think about having a black child, I feel such a wide mix of emotions. As I have previously stated, it feels right. But it also feels scary and exciting and overwhelming.

Like just about every other mother on the planet, I want my children to be treated well. I am filled with fury when I think of the adults that teased Khai for wearing nail polish or the neighbor that once hurt Avi's feelings. I want to protect them from physical harm, and I want to protect them from any and all emotional hurts. I realize this is unrealistic and that part of cultivating confidence in children is teaching them how to mentally and emotionally respond to assholes. It's an important skill to learn.  But let's be honest, this is going to be a lot more challenging when the child I am trying to shield is going to have moments in his or her life where they are treated unfairly simply because of their race. This already pains me to think of, but I would be naive to think it's not going to happen. And like all issues surrounding race, privilege, and power I think it's important to talk about.

Recently the Oscar-winning actor, Forest Whitaker was accused of shoplifting at a market on the upper west side in Manhattan. This market is across the street from where I went to graduate school. It has delicious sandwiches and salads, and during the 3 years I was in school I probably ate there at least once a week. A couple of weeks ago Forest Whitaker stopped by the shop to buy a yogurt while he was in New York filming a movie. While he shopped, he was approached by a worker who accused him of shoplifting and then proceeded to frisk him, looking for the lifted item. Bystanders saw and began speaking up, defending Forest Whitaker and explaining to the worker who he is.  Long story short, the store manager apologized, the worker was fired, and Forest Whitaker was vindicated, as well as humiliated. When this story hit the press, many locals spoke up and said they often see black people being wrongly accused and frisked at this market. So while what happened to Forest Whitaker is appalling and inexcusable, it is far more devastating to think of all the other people this has happened to there. People who don't have the prestige of Forest Whitaker, who can't take their experience to the press and get wide support from the community. People who have no power when they are falsely accused and treated like a criminal.  Those individuals can only leave the store, mortified and filled with a rage I can't begin to fathom. (For the record, the shop is Milano Market on Broadway and 112th and I will never set foot inside their store again.)

Sometimes I think about a video I recently saw of LeVar Burton explaining how he taught his sons to respond if they ever get pulled over. He told his boys to immediately put their hands on the windowsill of the car, so the cop doesn't pull out his gun, thinking the kid is a threat.  This is a conversation that white people don't have to have with their children. We tell our kids to be polite to cops, not to keep their hands visible so they don't mistakenly get shot.

I think of  a close friend of mine who once told me that when she gets pulled over she tries to talk "extra white." She says that helps, unless the cop is black, and then it backfires. It's so much to think about, so much to keep track of, and none of it is fair or makes sense.

Knowing how difficult it can be to be a black person in our society, I wonder if I, as a white person, can adequately raise a child who will have such a different experience in the world. Not just will I do a good job, but can I prepare him or her well enough?

I wonder if it will help that we're already a mixed-race family. Nghia obviously doesn't know what it's like to be black, but he does know what it's like to be the only one. He knows what it feels like to be teased and bullied solely because he is of a different race. If, god forbid, our child ever experiences racism personally, Nghia will be able to identify. He will be able to recall what it felt like to be the only minority in a completely white neighborhood, and how alone and isolating that could sometimes be. And he will be able to tell our kid, in a way that I will not, that yes, it feels terrible, but it does not have to define you. We cannot let it define you.

I wonder if it will also help that we live in such a diverse area. Our neighborhood is not only racially and ethnically integrated, but we all go one step further and actually hang out with each other. We do more than simply live side-by-side. Our child will never be the only black kid in the class, on the street, in the neighborhood, at the birthday party.

Perhaps growing up in such a racially-mixed town, where there are so many different kinds of families, will give our child a foundation of self-worth and confidence that will be an asset when it comes time to handle the rest of the world.

We joined our neighbors and marched in solidarity.