Dating a white girl with a black child
They can blend into both sides of the conversation.
As we sat chatting and watching our daughters play, I noticed something about her daughter, next to Annika, and no doubt, she noticed that same thing. Something I’d never noticed about Annika before that day. People tell me all the time she looks like her dad. She has my smile and the shape of my eyes and my cheekbones. The only people who will see that will also have to know me. * Performing illegal activities as a teen/college student, like drinking underage, using a fake I. and even doing drugs without much thought to what might happen if the neighbors knew what they were doing.
And I realize just how unbelievably lucky I have been to escape so many bad things that could have happened to me. I’m not saying that all the bad things happen to all the black people and that white people never have bad things happen to them. I wonder what would have happened if I had been black and snuck out of my bedroom window when I was 15; if I had gone walking around my mostly white neighborhood, a block away from a Christian university campus, with white men patrolling and lots of street lights. Perhaps, if I’d been born a child of color and perhaps not lived in such a neighborhood, things would have been different.
Or perhaps, someone might have seen me as an opportunity, someone without the protection of white society.
She need not be defined by her blackness—unless she choses to be.
And while I still believe she can and hopefully will choose to define herself by what is on the inside, I can not escape the knowledge that in our society you don’t always have that privilege when you have brown skin.Martha Wood is a single, white, female; a work-at-home mom; mother to a biracial daughter.