Oh, Charleston

Today has been an emotionally charged day for me. Upon adopting Baylie, I was thrust into a racially charged world that I was completely unprepared to handle. I just wanted to be a mom. I didn't want to become a voice for equality or have to take sides in racial battles. I just wanted to keep living in my little bubble. I still do. Unfortunately, I can't. I am the white mother of two black children and that isn't a fact that can be swept under the rug. There is no such thing as color blindness. There is such a thing as white privilege, although it doesn't mean what many think it does. There are good people of all races. There are also racists of all races. After having spent seven years as the mother of black children, I still don't understand what it is like to grow up black in America. I still feel like I am navigating a tightrope when it comes to issues like race. I don't always see things from the "white" point of view. I don't always see things from the "black" point of view. I wish there were no such thing as either.

I love Charleston. It is such a cultural treasure. It is a wonderful city with so much personality. I first went there on a girls' trip with my mom and sister prior to getting married just over 13 years ago. I fell in love with it then and was so excited to move back to this part of the country with my family when David came to Columbia for his dissertation. It is one of the few southern cities that wasn't destroyed by Sherman during the Civil War.

The fact that Charleston has now been linked to two obviously racist killings is so sad to me. First there was the police officer that not only shot a black man, but was filmed trying to plant evidence on him to justify the killing. Now today's massacre of nine people in a church has completely ripped my heart out of my chest and I have been on the verge of tears all day.

On Monday, David and I went to a shooting range for our anniversary. The range was in Lexington, home to the shooter. In the lane next to us was a young man that was about the same age and actually looked somewhat like the killer. I don't think it was the same young man, but the fact that it could have been is too close for comfort.

This morning I read my son a children's book called Birmingham, 1963, about the four little girls that died in the church bombing there. When I heard about Charleston, I was hit by the similarity and by the fact that we are still dealing with these issues over 50 years later. I debated over whether or not to tell my children about what happened in Charleston, but decided that it is part of their history and they need to know about it. How do I explain to them that there are people in this world that would kill them because of the color of their skin? One of the survivors was a 5-year-old girl that pretended to be dead. My son is 5! I can't even wrap my mind around that.

There is so much hate in this world. There is so much evil. But I am convinced that despite today's events, there are many, many more good people than there are bad. I know the parents I associate with love their children and are doing their best to teach them to love others. I still have hope that my children and their friends can make a change in the world around them. Kindness begins at home. Today I feel overwhelmed. All I can do is hold my children close and pray for a better tomorrow.