Pitter-patter sounds in my heart

Pitter-patter sounds in my heart. There has been a lot of time to reflect these past few weeks. It’s been extraordinarily stressful times to say the least. For me, one of the ways I best cope is my alone time, where I can sit back and process my experiences. Today, I wonder how have I contributed to the state of affairs in our society as a whole.

Growing up, I cared so much about what others thought. Like many, I was brought up that interracial relationships were frowned upon. In finally entering one after many years of friendship with my now-husband, I recall remarking how the color of his darker skin didn’t matter to me. We were together because of our love for each other and that was all that mattered. But I was wrong. His skin color does matter because it is part of what makes him who he is. Rather than ignoring it, I need to recognize him for all of who he is. Only by doing this can I truly know what love is.

This is the same for our children. If I deny their background, I do an injustice to who they are. Before the murder of George Floyd, it was very difficult for me to envision the trials my children might encounter because of their skin’s colorful glow or thick unforgiving curls. In actuality, I was protecting myself rather than them. Such thoughts had the potential to become too emotional or “heavy” to entertain.  

I keep reflecting on how I feel complicit. At least, I have reaped the benefits of being able to pass through life quietly, without having to take a stance if I was uncomfortable. These last few weeks, however, I have had no choice but to examine myself. How can I take next steps to rectify my ways? Reading and writing, listening, and speaking out, there are so many ways I can spark the discussion about race relations every day now going forward. 

Pitter-patter sounds my almost-three-year-old son’s feet. He stammers along, looking for me. He cries out “mommy” and desires to climb onto my lap. Thirty pounds of heaviness, plopping on top of me as if still a newborn, remaining there, still, in time. Time I never want to end.