Dearest Daughters,
Ugh. I don't know why I'm being so serious and intense lately. It'll pass soon and I'll have something ridiculous and humorous to offer soon, I promise. Maybe some more college exploits? Like the time I tried to clean up a spilled drink with my flip flop, because I declared, "It's absorbent!"
Or not.
For better or worse, being a person of color in this country means toeing the line between shoving yourself in people's faces (educating the ignorant) for the good of all humans and knowing when to lay low. It's kind of like parenting in that you have to learn to choose your battles. When will speaking up do more good than bad? Or when will it worsen the situation.
Lola has some particular "things" that irk her because of the world she was raised in where judgements were frequently and easily made. I wasn't conscious of these "things" until I had you girls. Like babies should wear socks. Shoes should be worn EVERY time you leave the house. Faces should be wiped and clothes should be clean.
Seems simple enough. But, then you become a parent and go out into the world of other parents. And you see a precious little white baby with mismatched clothes (however hipster) and a messy face. Maybe not wearing shoes. And you think nothing of it. You look at your own browner child with crazy, tangled curls, a dirty face and wearing red and purple together (in a decidedly non-hipster way). And you think, HOLY COW, my child looks like she just left a refugee camp and is "Fresh Off the Boat." And if you're thinking that, what are ALL THESE OTHER PEOPLE at the Target food court thinking?!?
It's unfortunate, but appearance does matter.
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