Hello, out there!, I'm finally getting around to posting (thanks to Nikki for inviting me) and am sorry it took me so long. I used to blog quite often before I had my son, but now that he's a toddler and asserting his independence, I'm allowed the odd moment to myself.
I am the half Korean/half black mother of a 2 year old boy. My son's father is Scottish and Assyrian. My son is a delectable mix of us both and his heritages show on his beautiful face.
After weeks of complaining, I finally sucked it up and bought a "She's My Mommy, Not My Nanny" t-shirt from Swirl Syndicate for William. I live in a predominantly melanin-deficient area of NYC where most of the non-white/namely black-and-brown faces you see belong to either home caretakers or nannies. Nevermind that grew up here- that I have lived in the same place for 30+ years of my life. This is all irrelevant because people just can't imagine that I could possibly live here, or that my son, who incidentally looks just like me, is my son.
I've had more than a few incidences that got my blood boiling. One of my favorites (and the most recent) happened about a month ago. I was in the playground with my son and was supervising him as he climbed on a structure. There were many kids climbing too. This woman comes over with her son and starts saying to me, "Oh, I know his parents" as she gestures to a child who, of course is not my son. I just say, "Oh...okay...." and go about my business. Then she says, "Are you with him?" - meaning the little boy. I tell her that no, I am with him, gesturing toward William. I assume that she'll "get" that William is my son, being that he looks like me and all. She asks me if he has a brother and I tell her he doesn't, thinking that's the end of the conversation.
A few days later, we're in the same playground. This time my husband, who is white, is with me. I sit down on the benches (William had broken my toe...!) and William and my husband play together about 2 yards away from me. The same women ambles by with her son and starts talking to my husband. It went something like this (some paraphrasing, but this is the jist):
Woman: Oh, I saw him the other day (meaning William). Does he have a brother?
Husband: No, he doesn't.
Woman: Oh- there's a little boy who looks just like him. I was talking to his babysitter the other day...
Husband: Maybe you mean his grandmother...? (He'd heard the story from me already and knew where this was going but was trying to give her the benefit of the doubt)
Woman: (insistent) No, no...his babysitter...
...and me, sitting about 2 yards away on the bench. So not only am I the babysitter, but I'm the faceless babysitter.
Some people don't get my outrage about this. They don't understand how annoying it is when people think that your child, the one that you birthed with your own body, is not your own. It's hurtful, angering and frustrating.
If you're not the mother of a biracial/multiracial child/non-white child, then try to open your mind and your eyes a bit before you comment.