When Ben and Frankie were growing up and we were making decisions about their education, we chose the best schools we could find, and/or afford, and most times they were in the extreme minority where they were the only black kids in their classes.
Culturally, they would be in a desert, but that was OK because I was so "black conscious," I was sure that was enough. I thought they'd get all of the cultural exposure at home and through planned events geared in large part for this.
Boy, was I wrong.
Again, the decisions were made with the best intentions, though.
What I didn't realize, is what the parents of the black woman in the previous post being raised in an all-white environment also didn't recognize, is that kids need peers who look like them and share some of the same experiences as them.
I was hurt, upset, disappointed, and angry when Ben and Frankie started dating, and there wasn't a black girl in the mix . . .
AT ALL!
I felt it was an absolute slap in the face to me as a black woman, that their standard of beauty was like so many others, leaning heavily toward blond and blue-eyed.
I was pissed.
And yet, they always came back with, "It's your fault Mom. Look at where we went to school. Look at who our peers are. This was designed in large part by you."
Well, damn.
I did not want to hear that.
But, it was the truth.
The grand plan had succeeded greatly in one area, in the education they received, but socially, it had failed.
Or had it?
Doors of opportunity were opened that would have been unheard of in my day, and those opportunities led to their meeting wonderful women that became their wives.
But, I still live with this nagging feeling of failure.
Of course, hindsight is 20/20.
If given a chance to do it all over again, I would absolutely do some things differently.
First, I would get off my high horse of "blackness," thinking I was enough to spread all the black knowledge they needed, and make sure they had many more opportunities to be with kids who looked like them and shared experiences of growing black in this very white world.