It was a regular night for our family, Terrance was watching sports and I was bathing Miles. I pulled his wet body out of the tub with our new collection of fluffy white towels; patting him dry but leaving dampness on his skin. I began to lather his body with a combination of raw cocoa butter and oils made special for our family. We began to talk as we normally do, he said: “Mommy I wish my skin looked like yours”.
Shocked yet confused I asked, “what does Mommy’s skin look like to you?” he said, “it’s white, you are white” tears began to whale up in my eyes, I took a moment and asked God to give me a response…..I told him “mommy is black just like you and daddy” and he said, “daddy is really black and I don’t want to look like that.” Anger & sadness began to overtake me. While holding back the tears I shared with him how beautiful his skin is, how his color is special and there is absolutely no one that looks like him and that how God made him just for Daddy and me.
This wasn’t a new conversation for us. We’d engage in this type of dialogue before but on this night, I was called to be intentional and share the gospel with my five-year-old. Even in the truths of the Bible I still was overcome with doubt about my motherhood; should he be around more children that look like him? Had I failed him as a black mom? What did I do wrong?
The truth is I had in fact done nothing wrong. My son was experiencing something that a lot of people of color experience; that feeling of somehow having a disadvantage because of their skin color or that feeling of being less than. Had my son's skin already began to speak for him before he entered the room? Was he already being faced with the reality of racism and injustice?
As I began to process this old but new reality for us it brought me to a place of uneasy peace. I could begin to have real conversations with him about race and injustices but also the beauty of being black in America. The dialogue continues….
Hey Kiara,
I am a Black African American & American Indian woman. I recall while growing up as a child in a very small town. My first realization of being different than the majority of black children in my elementary school. I remember how cruel other kids treated me when they saw my skin color was different than most of them. Those kids would tease me about my light brown skin color, my straight black hair and my long point shape noise. As I grew older, the impact of how those kids treated me influenced my self-esteem and made me feel I was not good enough. Fortunately, As I grew into adulthood and I became enlighten that I am beautiful…
Kiera, Thank you so much for your comment. I appreciate you reading my post! You are right! We are magic!
Such a powerful story and it saddens me a bit. I remember being younger and having the same thoughts about my skin tone and how others looked down on people that looked like me or darker more chocolate skin. What Miles may not know is that people like us have glitter running through our veins