“The Cloak I Was Offering Them Was Identification With My Whiteness”
As a white mother of two black children, three white children, who all have a white father, I have something to say.
Racism exists. It is real and tangible. And it is everywhere, all the time.
When I brought my boys home they were the cutest, sweetest babies ever. Wherever we went, people greeted us with charm and enthusiasm. Well, not all people and not everywhere. But, to me, they were the “wacko” exceptions. I thought to myself, “Get over it.”
Source: “The Cloak I Was Offering Them Was Identification …
My Comments: First person accounts are usually pretty deep. I found this quite moving.