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Monday, April 4, 2022

feelings

Last night we watched Atlanta. The first episode of season 3 is about white moms with black kids.

I know the situation they showed isn't even close to us, but it really fucked me up.

Ever since Isaiah was born, the greatest guilt and biggest question that plays over and over in my head is: "Why ONLY Isaiah?" Why didn't we help them all? Why didn't we take them all in? Why didn't we save the world?

And I know that is unrealistic. I can't be a good mom to ten thousand children, but I can be to one. And that's what matters, but I realize all of the harm that well-intentioned white people bring. 

It has been eating at me. At my heart. 

When Isaiah was a baby, he was absolutely beautiful. You know, he still is, but the big teeth and all...

But I cannot tell you how many people said "you've got to get him into modeling" or "enter this cutest baby contest!" And the thing is, he could have won. We have the family situation that white people LOVE. White people love to see other white people being "not-racist". Like we're putting in a good word for white people everywhere. We're doing the work so they don't have to.

Can I count how many people have told me I'm a saint? No.

Am I a saint? No.

I'm a mom. And I won't lie to you, I had to unlearn so much of white culture in being a mom. Because white culture, is racist.

And I won't exploit that. Not for you, not for anyone. No, I will not enter my child in the cute baby contest. I don't need you to tell me that he's cuter than all the other kids. I already know.

Don't tell me how lucky/blessed my son is that we adopted him. On his first day of life, we took him from the only mother he knew for nine months. We took him home, and made our family. Because we are privileged to do so. 


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