(Shortened Version) I Never Knew How White I Was Until I Had A Black Child

I Never Knew How White I Was Until I Had a Black Child.

I can't sleep.  Hartly, our 4 year old,  came into our room sobbing.  He'd had a nightmare. There was lots of tossing and turning but, about an hour later, he is finally asleep.

I, however, am not.

These days when I wake up in the middle of the night I am reduced to a ball of fear and worry.  The majority of this fear and worry reside around my youngest, Tayo. 

I am white.  Frank, my husband, is white (he is actually first generation Cuban but when people look at him, they see white). Hartly, my oldest, is white. Tayo, my baby, is black. And he is not just a little black. Nope. Tayo is a rich and beautiful and unmistakable dark black. And in 2015 his color is still not a safe color to be.

I never knew how white I was until I had a black child. I grew up with 

I Never Knew How White I Was Until I Had a Black Child

I Never Knew How White I Was Until I Had a Black Child.

I can't sleep.  Hartly, our 4 year old,  came into our room sobbing.  He'd had a nightmare. He is usually able to go right back to bed and tonight he couldn't. There was lots of tossing and turning but, about an hour later, he is finally asleep.

I, however, am not.

These days when I wake up in the middle of the night I am reduced to a ball of fear and worry.  The majority of this fear and worry reside around my youngest, Tayo. I am white.  Frank is white (he is actually first generation Cuban but when people look at him, they see white). Hartly, my oldest, is white. Tayo, my baby, is black. And he is not just a little black. Nope. Tayo is a rich and beautiful and unmistakable dark black. And in 2015 his color is still not a safe color to be.

I read a lot.  We took seminars at our adoption agency. I am on many blogs and webpages for transracial adoption and for raising a child of color. It is a bleak world.

I never knew how white I was until I had a black child. I grew up with