Writer's Workshop Wednesday ~ Ginger from Spicey Mom

As any first time mom, I would proudly jaunt around town with my adorable baby girl, trolling for compliments.   I'd contemplate outfits to dress her in while nursing at 2:00 a.m.  The outfits that would best compliment Cookie's dark copper complexion.  Lavenders and purples mostly.  I couldn't wait to brag discuss her birth story.  Yes, I was the first person in the world to give birth drug free!

First time parents, well those that are honest, will tell you, the first year is the hardest.  With your first child, the first few months are wrought with nervous fear that you are doing it all wrong.  You are literally fumbling around in the dark trying not to feel like you are fucking it and your child up.  Not to mention the hormones.  For me, I was in a horrible haze of postpartum that I didn't realize I was in...until..well I was no longer in it.  So, when stranger after stranger approaches you to gush over your sweet baby, you lap it up. However, for me, the comments towards my child were more like a double edged sword.

Cookie was born with the darkest of brown hair, almost black.  And she had a lot of it.  She came out and the nurses just about swooned over her double dimpled chubby cheeks.  I was very excited over the dimples, I had always wanted them for myself.  Her skin was a beautiful copper color.  She was like a Korean version of me.  Her eyes were almond shaped but had the "double eyelid" that is so important to have in the Korean culture.  In Korea, women march in droves to get plastic surgery for double eyelids.  For those that don't know, It means, having the extra fold that white people have.  

The first indication that my interaction with strangers with my child would be different was the constant stroking.  A stranger would come up to me, and begin stroking my daughter's arm.  "What beautiful skin color she has. You are so fair..." They would leave the last word hanging, like I needed to fill in a blank that was missing.  When pregnant, I kinda got creeped out at stranger's wanting to touch me. This was my child, creepy went to a whole new level.  It is one thing to want to hold a baby's hand and have those little fingers wrap around yours, or touch the sweet toes.  Who can resist baby toes?  But the stroking was weird.  In all my life I've never been compelled to stroke a strange child. Okay, maybe squeeze some baby thigh.  But continually stroke a baby's arm...weird. And who actually follows through with those impulses?

By the time Jelly came around two years later, I learned to grow thicker skin.  I also learned that no matter what, people would be interested, that people are rude and feel their curiosity should be answered.  More importantly people didn't know the difference between race, ethnicity, and nationality.  My job, as my children's mother, is to give them a foundation in their family histories.  To teach them Korean, to discuss why their Harmonee and Harabogee look different and speak different than Nana and Papa.  Most importantly, my job is to help them gain pride and love of themselves not based on race or their ethnicity, but on their actions. 

The hardest part of raising a bi-racial child, as a white parent, is confronting racism for the first time.  Real racism.  The kind where old white people look at you and your child like you have leprosy. The kind where skin heads glare at you in a menacing way.  To come to terms with one's own white privilege. ( A great 'guide' to read is this http://thoughtcatalog.com/2013/a-definitive-guide-to-white-privilege/) To finally know that you don't know racism.

It is one thing to experience prejudice and racism against oneself, it is another to experience it for your child.  To have caused them harm from just being.  To realize that no matter what, someone may call your child ugly or worthless because of their ethnicity or the way they look. My job is to teach my children tools on how to deal with that racism.  At first, in my rage,  I decided that I would not sit back and take people's ignorance, I would shove it in their face.  Make them see how they were insensitive or just plain ignorant.  Today, I like to sit back and wait for someone to stumble through asking me.  How I perceive that person, what kind of human being they are is from that interaction.  I try and take the high road.  Sometimes I just give them the answer they are seeking.  Sometimes I make them work for it.  Mostly I try to be a positive role model for my children.  To teach my children to not let what others say define them.

Now we see so many mixed couples, mixed children, that I think people are just more accepting.  It is the norm.  The bi-racial child is no longer a circus attraction.  This means that I can take my children to the park on the day the families who did adopt from China have a support group meet-up and not be asked to join them.  (true story this happened) Does this mean the road for my children will be easy?  I am sure they will experience all kinds of ignorant, mean, cruel, asinine behavior from children to grown adults.  My job is to help arm them in the best way possible.  To be kind, to be intelligent, and to be world savvy. 

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