I can look back through the early years and recognize interactions that helped shape the reality we have today. I remember early in her life our oldest daughter would refer to young black men as "What's up dudes". These were not all men but those with saggy jeans, caps turned backwards or longer braided hair. When we asked her about her comments her answer was "They always nod at Daddy and say 'What's up'. We didn't think much of it, life went on, and we giggled about her comments. I mean her comments were not mean or hurtful and we compared it to her comments about cowboys and how she would mimic them with her twang. Today she considers "What's up dudes" as gang members. Media helped to shape that opinion not me but I never countered it.
As John became involved in community sports the girls were exposed to more diversity than our home and church could provide. We met wonderful people and always enjoyed being involved in the community. But as with most youth sports there were those whose maturity did not match their age. So the girls observed fights, belligerent outbursts, and angry words yelled at their dad. Now before I move on I want to share why I think the negative opinions of black men held true for my girls but not negative opinion of white men because I assure you the ignorance and immature behavior was by all colors, shapes, and sizes. You see they had a frame a reference for white men....their own dad, their grandfather, uncles, church members. But as a parent I failed to offer any experiences (or at least limited experiences) to contradict those opinions of black men. With very few in our social circle and none in our church tipped the scales for their opinions.
Time rocked along and we didn't give much thought to any of it as we were busy living life. Then the world seemed to shatter and the angst of the black community and the perceived (and actual) injustices of the black community were front and center. Our girls older now watched things unfold. We knew with dating, college, marriage, and all things of that nature just around the corner we had to begin having open honest conversations. Those conversations yielded nothing that raised a red flag. The girls (as well as our other children) did not have fear or concerns. Rooted strongly in faith they knew God was in control.
With our move to the DFW area we were excited to find our place in a much more diverse world. But we realized the church we had began visiting clearly was not diverse. Even in the midst of a large populated area our girls were yet again the only black attendees. My heart was heavy and we decided to look at other churches.
We visited a church recommended by one of John's co-workers. We arrived the first week and the roles were reversed. In a service of 200+ there were only about 10 other white attendees. Our girls who I thought would feel more comfortable sat at odds through the entire service. Afterwards one commented I am not sure that service was appropriate. I felt like I was hit with a brick. The two in the family who I thought would leap with joy that they were no longer the odd man out were more uncomfortable than any of the others. I mean the sermon was theologically sound and the music was some that we had worshipped to in the past (just in a more boisterous manner than our norm). We opened up conversations again with them and that is when the truth finally emerged. Our girls were scared. They were afraid. And my heart wept. How did I miss it? How did I raise two daughters who are black to fear others who look just like them?
The answer simple...because I never showed them an alternative. Men of the faith that loved the Lord and their families. Men who were gentle, loving just like their father. Men who put God before others. We interacted only on a limited social level but never got to know them well. Never had dinner in their homes. Never attended church or gatherings. Never truly got to know them.
So my mistake was walking through the years thinking that just because my girls were black and that we never had any prejudice in our home they would automatically connect with others that looked like them ...and boy was I wrong! Now we realize we must be more intentional. intentional in the same way that we were with all other areas of our parenting. So what does that look like?
Our first step is our family attending a black church. John and I sitting in a congregation of 200+ black members. John and I being out of our comfort zone with worship music (but I must tell you I love to see the joy and excitement of praise). We will listen to a pastor that preachers a much different style than we are used to and a congregation that yells "Amen", stands to clap during the sermon, and is active during the preaching. It calls us to be uncomfortable to give my kids an experience they deserved many years before.
I know this will not fix all the issues of the world and my girls will still struggle being caught between 2 cultures but what it does is open the door for experiences and conversations. In the process I will have grow as a person and my life will be enriched.
