As a mixed-raced family in a white space, the reality is that anytime we leave our house as a family, we risk incurring the wrath of the ignorant. To partake in the joys of the first treats of spring can turn ugly without notice and, sadly, a visit to Maine's most populous city yesterday was the day when the ugly became personal.
Every time someone asks me whether I would like to move back home when I finish school, I say, "I don't know." But I say it in the way I say things that my heart knows but my brain is opposing. It scares me which tragedy humanity would bestow my sons if I raised them in the U.S, and which tragedy my daughters if I raised them in Kenya.
The challenge is knowing when to tell your child that the world looks at you differently, that it isn't fair, and that your very life may be in danger because of what you look like. After you figure out when to unleash that heartbreak, you have to be prepared to fortify them and help them learn that they are strong, beautiful, and worthy of better.