I have always celebrated Martin Luther King Day.
I celebrate it like I celebrate Father's Day.
Every Father's day, I give reverence and memory to those it is meant to celebrate, but keep it at arms length. I make cards, make calls, but never make it MINE.
After all, I'm never going to be a Father, right?!
I sort of always felt the same way about Martin Luther King Jr Day.
Studied the history, watched the speech, thanked God that we've come as far as we have...but really...always felt it was for, well, for someone else.
Because I'm never going to be black, right?
Until last Thursday when we attended our first adoption training class. It was on transracial adoption. A class that most of us prospective parents probably rolled our eyes at when we heard the State of Iowa mandated training for ALL prospective parents. I've spent a good deal of time studying race relations and diversity in college. I think I reached a place where I recognize differences, celebrate that beautiful variety and find such sweet comfort in our overwhelming similarities. I know I still don't have it all figured out yet...but mandated training?
And then at one point in the class, our Social Worker mentioned that if and when we welcome someone of a different race into our family....we all become that culture. Her son had recently married an African American woman and she said, "we are now an African American family."
I might have an African American family some day.
Our family and extended family will be better and darker.
The sweet child I hold to my chest might one day be judged by the color of his/her skin.
As I heard the "I Have a Dream" speech yesterday I felt hot tears spring to my eyes as the powerful truth hit home. The fight for truth is mine and it is yours and it is ours.
And I no longer have to hold MLK day as a distance, because it is mine too.
I celebrate it like I celebrate Father's Day.
Every Father's day, I give reverence and memory to those it is meant to celebrate, but keep it at arms length. I make cards, make calls, but never make it MINE.
After all, I'm never going to be a Father, right?!
I sort of always felt the same way about Martin Luther King Jr Day.
Studied the history, watched the speech, thanked God that we've come as far as we have...but really...always felt it was for, well, for someone else.
Because I'm never going to be black, right?
Until last Thursday when we attended our first adoption training class. It was on transracial adoption. A class that most of us prospective parents probably rolled our eyes at when we heard the State of Iowa mandated training for ALL prospective parents. I've spent a good deal of time studying race relations and diversity in college. I think I reached a place where I recognize differences, celebrate that beautiful variety and find such sweet comfort in our overwhelming similarities. I know I still don't have it all figured out yet...but mandated training?
And then at one point in the class, our Social Worker mentioned that if and when we welcome someone of a different race into our family....we all become that culture. Her son had recently married an African American woman and she said, "we are now an African American family."
I might have an African American family some day.
Our family and extended family will be better and darker.
The sweet child I hold to my chest might one day be judged by the color of his/her skin.
As I heard the "I Have a Dream" speech yesterday I felt hot tears spring to my eyes as the powerful truth hit home. The fight for truth is mine and it is yours and it is ours.
And I no longer have to hold MLK day as a distance, because it is mine too.
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