Sunday, April 28, 2019

What their grandmother wished

I am going to admit a secret. It is deeply held because I don't want to give power to this fear, but it is there, nevertheless, and it is this: I worry for my son and his girlfriend. He is black and she is white, and I worry about the world they must walk through. They are sweet together; born a year and a week apart, they get each other in the goofiest way. The things that make me insane about my son seem to amuse her, and the things about him I cherish, she seems to appreciate also.

They began seeing each other the week my mother died, which made me think my darling mom was pulling strings from heaven. It would have been just like her: She always wanted for her children to be partnered with good people, to love and be loved, and to experience the joy of raising a family together. It was a wish right up there with her desire that we trust in God. She would have been fine if I'd walked a different path relationship-wise, she would have adjusted, and indeed, my brother's path was never so straightforward. But this loving connection was always her prayer for us, and for her grandchildren, too. And within a month of her death, all three of her grandchildren who were already grown were in serious relationships with good people. My son, my daughter, my niece.

My son got off the plane in Jamaica for his grandmother's funeral and told me, "Mom, I met someone." A month later, my niece, who had never lacked for suitors, and who could grow bored with the most apparently perfect of them, told me, "I met someone." My daughter, at that point, had been dating a young man at college for a few months, and on her next birthday, he gave her a delicate gold necklace with her grandmother's name in sweet cursive. As far as I can tell, all three people are exactly the sort my mother would have chosen for her beloved grands, which is not to say I am presumptuously writing the next chapter of their story. That will be for them to write, as indeed they have already begun to do, with my niece marrying her love a week ago.

While I pray for them all, in the age of Trump I am secretly more worried for my son and his girlfriend, because I don't want the world to come at them in a cruel way. I am talking about all sides of the equation here: I don't want people of any color to look at them in anything but a loving way; I don't want black women to assume my son hates himself or hates black women because he is with someone of another race; I don't want white men of a certain ideological bent to do much worse. I don't want any ugliness to befall them at all, because they are lovely together, and so I wish the world to be different, or at least heading in a more positive direction. May all these children be loving and loved in this life, and yes, may they also be safe.

16 comments:

  1. These are very reasonable fears. The hate and vitriol spewed by that man on every possible occasion has whipped up a level of craziness that is unbelievable. I've been thinking about white privilege a lot lately and how much the whole system has failed so many people. I go about my day and don't have to worry about being pulled over the way the hispanic people do in Tucson and at border checkpoints. I'm golden because I'm white. I'm also elderly, so I'm not every perceived as a threat; the unfairness of it all is just unspeakable.

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    1. Allison, i truly think that young people are less hung up on these divisions, on the other hand, all these white supremacist shooters are young men, so maybe I'm in a bubble. I dont know. But i pray.

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  2. It's so sad that this is still an issue in this day and age. I have much older mixed race couples sometimes as patients and I'm always so impressed by their courage. It can't have been easy in the 1940's to marry someone of another race. But this is 2019, it shouldn't be so hard but I understand your fears. There is so much ugliness in the world right now, a feeling of us and them instead of just us.

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    1. Lily, i too see elderly mixed race couples and I tip my hat to them. Lord knows it could not have been easy. There's not too much of an issue in NYC, but outside the city, I worry for my babies. This is our world, and we have to dream it better i suppose. Your consciousness helps.

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  3. This is the world we are living in. It infuriates me and it shames me because I am - like Allison said in her comment, white and elderly, and what should I have to fear.
    But there it is, my loss of safety, of respect, should be as huge as yours, my anger should be so much, so intense that it will carry yours and more. I have failed so often, but believe me, I will continue to try.

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    1. Sabine, i think sometimes I am too hung up on safety, but I feel my babies have so much to give, so yes, I pray they will be safe, so they can walk whatever path it is they have dreamed for themselves. I love that you try. It is what we call have the power to do, though not enough do. Love.

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  4. I thought after the 1960s, the Civil Rights Movement, the marches, the integration of schools, that we would be long past this racial insanity. But a new and violent hatred has emerged, where white supremacists are deemed equally fine. These are not safe times, and I so understand your worries. I can only hope that we get past this insanity in 2020 and that your beautiful son and his beautiful partner will never have to feel unsafe. I wish we were all living in the world of my dreams.

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    1. Dear robin, I believe your dreams are powerful, that our collective dreams for a better world can move the atoms, and begin to remake our reality. That and voting of course. Thank you, my friend.

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  5. Your honesty shows courage despite fear. My vision is of your mother, their grandmother, continuing to watch over them from that fearless place that I can only imagine. They are loving and loved. I can see that so clearly in your photo.

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    1. am, i love that thought, that my mother is continuing to watch over them from a fearless place. As for my honesty, i actually started this post a while back, but only found the courage to post it because my blog is now private, and (I think) only visited by loving souls. When the blog was public, I worried about attracting negativity to their lovely selves. So that's one perk of having gone private I guess. There are still many people who I miss, who don't come around much anymore, but then there is you, and the others here, and you are all my heart. Thank you.

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  6. The other day August, who was bone tired, started crying inconsolably. "What's wrong?" asked his mama. "What are your sad thoughts?"
    And he wailed, "I am afraid I might have to go to jail someday!"
    Now where did this come from? Who knows?
    Jessie and I could hardly stop ourselves from laughing because...well, he's three. And the idea of him in jail was ridiculously absurd. Jessie said, "Don't worry, honey. You're not going to go to jail. We will teach you the laws so that you don't break them and then you'll never have to go to jail."
    "What are the laws?" he asked.
    "Well, the first one is not to kill anyone," his mama said.
    He stopped crying for a moment and then he said, "But what if I toot and it kills all the people?"
    Of course then we had to laugh.
    "If I had that power, I'd use it daily," I said.
    There was more reassurance and eventually he quit crying but when Jessie and I were talking later we both admitted that our first thoughts had been, "Boy! You're white! You don't have to worry about it."
    I can't say that I understand exactly how you feel or your fears but I do know that I am aware of why you have them. And as the mother of a transgendered son, I read about the crimes committed against trans people and I have to just shut my mind down. So yes, I understand a little.
    I see more and more couples of mixed race all the time, even here in the very deep south and they do make me feel a little more optimistic. Not enough that I would ever be complacent though.
    Damn hate.
    Damn ignorant hatred.
    And on another, not very related topic- isn't it funny how that phrase, "I met someone" actually means, "I met the one"?
    Try not to worry too much. This may not be reassuring but it's generally the thing we never see coming that causes the most difficulties.
    Easy for me to say.
    I love you.

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    1. Oh, poor August. Poor little guy. I feel as if he was channeling some of the world's injustice and couldn't understand what it was. And yes, I met someone definitely means I met The One. I know you have some sense of what I feel with your own son. Your family helps make our world a vastly better place.

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    1. jenny, thank you for this vulnerable sharing of your heart. In the end, love is love, and i tend to believe love is its own protective force. may our beloveds always be protected.

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    2. Since your blog is public again, I've removed my comment above :)

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  8. Thank you for opening up your blog again. When I discovered it was private I was bummed. I like reading what you have to say.

    Your fears are valid. I hate it for you. I thought we, as a nation, were finally turning the corner of black/white hate. It's on both sides and I deal with it on a small basis every day that I work. I actually have it three fold. I am a white woman working in a man's world dealing with black and white men on a daily basis. It's not an easy one to navigate but for the most part I have done well. There are a few that still will not talk to me or give me the respect I give them, but you really can't please everyone all of the time. After 3 years and the rolling out of a system where drivers have to have a card with their name on it, it's a lot better. If you give respect, you get respect. Mostly...like I said, not everyone does. My findings are that it's about half white and half black of those who won't even acknowledge that I've said anything to them. And it's the same ones, day in day out. I greet them all the same every time I see them. And still.

    I grew up in upstate New York. Went to a school in which there were no blacks. When I moved to the south (FL) at the age of 12 I was sent to school in the black community and just didn't know what to think. I was accepting and curious but never did hate enter my mind because they were different than me. If you grow up with hate that's all you know. If you don't, like me, then it's hard to fathom why. I know why....but I don't understand why. Does that make sense?

    I wish nothing but the best for your loves. And wish that our world would try to turn that corner again and hate would go away.

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