That's so Stereotypical

On the eve of my 39^th birthday, I chose to reflect on where God has positioned me in the context of faith, race, and American culture. I am learning more and more about how God wants me to give my life away each day for the sake of something far greater than me. After a long chat with a friend on Sunday morning in the hallway at church, she texted me Monday morning to encourage me. She recognized that I am in a potentially lonely place as I stand between different groups of people and attempt to build bridges. Often times the bridges are going to span deep chasms where it has been too dangerous to ever attempt a bridge or ravines where a bridge once existed or was started but was burned by someone who didn’t want the two sides to unite. She was right…being a bridge builder is a lonely business to be in, but I believe that is exactly what God is calling me to be. So today I share some thoughts that were sparked by a brief digital exchange I had with an acquaintance recently that will serve as tools and supplies for one of the bridges I am supposed to build.

Let’s begin with a simple definition. A stereotype is a widely held but fixed and oversimplified image or idea of a particular type of person or thing (google search for stereotype definition). A stereotype is a preconceived notion, especially about a group of people. Many stereotypes are racist, sexist, or homophobic. (www.vocabulary.com)

A few weeks ago I shared a picture of my biracial (African-American and Caucasian) children on Facebook with a post that read,

“Racism exist in each of us…even in my house. So what do we do about it? Every time you say “white people are so ____” my children are hurt because you are talking about their mother and them. Every time you think “black people are so ____” my children are hurt because you are talking about their father and them. Every time you let hateful or ignorant ideas “be ok” you are saying racism is ok.  We are created differently to display the diversity of our Creator.”

I received lots of “likes” and “loves” and comments about the post. One person decided to send a private message to ask a very interesting question. It is for dialog like she and I had that I will continue to post thought provoking things in the hopes that we can start bridge-building conversations.

The inquiring person asked what I thought about stereotypes. She wanted to know if I thought “positive” stereotypes would be considered a form of racism acknowledging that even “positive” stereotypes are not always accurate.

So what are some “positive” stereotypes? Black people are good at basketball. All Asian people are geniuses. I can think of a few others that would be considered “harmless” or “just a joke.” White people don’t have any rhythm. Black people love fried chicken. Latinas are all great cooks.

For the record I think all stereotypes are rooted in negativity or indifference toward others. We find it easier to generalize. I think stereotypes are insensitive and can lead us down a path of thinking that's all a group of people is known for. This line of thought could totally apply outside of race, but it seems to be the most obvious there. Is there some truth to stereotypes? Of course, what’s the saying? Stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason. The problem is what we chose to do with stereotypes once we begin to spend time around different people. Do we hold on to our stereotypical expectation or invest time getting to know someone as the unique individual he or she is. As a parent with my own kids, I see them as very unique individuals even though they can from the same two parents. We work hard not to push them all into one category just because of their shared surname. We can apply the same logic when talking about race. A refusal to apply stereotypes allows us to see the beauty in how God has created people from all over the planet and the infinite creativity he possesses. I think it takes a little more effort to develop relationships with people who are different than us, but then it becomes easier to understand why no one wants to be known by a stereotype.

Allow me to share a story from my husband’s childhood to illustrate my point. Tyrone was a 3rd culture kid. He was born in the US and lived a large part of his childhood in Europe because his Dad was in the Army. They settled back in the US when he was in middle school. When he arrived on the playground at school in Mt. Pleasant, SC there was an expectation from the other kids, black and white, that he would be good at basketball because he was black. Growing up in Europe, basketball was not an option for him so he had never played. He felt embarrassed at the least that he could not do something that he was "supposed" to be able to do. He went on to be a pretty good football player in high school as well as track and wrestling. His greatest accomplishments, however, were being invited to the prestigious wind ensemble (he played trombone) as a freshman and being the first in his family to earn a Ph. D.

 If we let the stereotypes stand, where do all the people end up who are not good at the thing we think they are supposed to be good at? Or worse perhaps, we hold someone to a negative stereotype never allowing them to fulfill their full potential because it doesn’t fit the mold our stereotypes have formed for their group.

This begs the question do I refer to a person who uses stereotypes as racist?

In most cases, absolutely not! Recalling our definition, stereotypes often come from racist ideas, but to begin to label people as racist without careful evaluation will not build bridges but widen the gaps between us. It will also minimize the validity of systemic racism in our country and further distract us from the issues we need to address. I think it is important to identify ideas and processes of thought that come from false notions about race so we can become more empathetic and value one another's life experiences. Let’s fight against the intellectual laziness of stereotypes and give more effort toward loving our neighbor as ourselves. Only when we chose to value one another and our differences can we truly build bridges that will unite.

I want what you want

I want what you want Lord and nothing less!

I found these words tucked inside a beautiful song (“Trust in You” by Lauren Daigle) I have been listening to lately. I have listened to the song over a dozen times, but only just caught this line tonight as I sat on my front porch and the rain began to sprinkle down on me. Oh how I want these words to be true of me. Oh how I want them to be the legacy I leave behind.

So what will it take for these words to be true? I think I will use the old "3 points and a poem" routine to answer that question today so I can attempt to share a few of the thoughts swirling around in my head.

Point 1: I must confess that what God wants for me is actually better than what I want for me. I am a planner and a fixer. I am confident in my ability to make a good decision. I like being in charge and in control. Last fall I was feeling neither of these. I had a lunch meeting set on a Monday and I had a lot to talk about with a dear friend. She is a great encourager and helps me sort through the whirlwind inside my head and heart. As God would have it, she had to cancel that day and I was not happy. I needed someone to talk to so badly, but pretty quickly the Holy Spirit said “You have me and that’s all you need.” So I walked and prayed. It was that day when graduate school came to mind for the first time in a long time. I knew it was time to make a change. I could feel the Spirit saying it is time to make the next move toward the plans I have for you, but I had to be willing to confess that what God wanted me to do was better than what I was currently doing and the plans I had been crafting (all in his name of course).

Point 2: I must acknowledge the fears that rage inside my heart and mind. Oh my goodness, the fear is real. Fear paralyzes a person, but courage liberates a person to become all she was created to be. The next couple weeks that followed that prayer walk were excruciating. The reality of the presidential election of was devastating to our household, but God used it to move me to action. It was a catalyst – a wakeup call - to remember I serve a sovereign God, my hope is in Christ alone, and I was created to change the world. I grieved as though someone had died. I cried more in the month of November than I had the previous 2 years combined. God was uprooting fear that was buried deep in my heart. He was refining me and preparing me for the next leg of my journey with him. I began to see clearly the purpose in “random” conversations and new, unlikely relationships. I learned the value of brutal honesty and having hard conversations. There was peace when I said it was time to quit my job out loud to my pastor. I loved my job as the Director of Children’s Ministry at our church, but it was time to allow someone else the opportunity to serve in that role. Then came the fear of what that actually meant. I had to give up this perceived power and influence I had. I had to give up my paycheck. I had to admit that some else could do the job better than me. I knew it was time to go despite the fear of answering people’s questions about what I was doing next with “I don’t know, but God does.”

The frequency of conversations about graduate school increased between Tyrone and I. I talked to some other professors about my ideas and options. I began to study for the GRE. I remember the night I chose a date and paid for the GRE…it was so surreal. I sat in that test with confidence and walked out with a good score. I applied to the University of Arkansas graduate school and ordered my transcripts from the University of South Carolina. The email came one afternoon with the subject line You Have Been Admitted! Now I have a graduate assistantship which will pay 100% of my tuition and pays a stipend. God is proving time and time again that I have nothing to fear when I follow the path he has marked out for me.

Point 3: I must trust that God, who spoke the universe into existence and knit me together in my mother’s womb, loves me beyond all measure. I can trust a God who loves me. A God who loves me unconditional because of the shed blood of Jesus Christ will not lead me astray even if I can’t see what is next. His fierce love for me is enough to lead me to do what is otherwise impossible. Going back to school seemed impossible, but here I am registered for classes holding my student ID a month before my 39^th birthday. Walking away from a job without a plan was crazy, but I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt it was right and God would provide everything we needed. There is certainty in the midst of uncertainty when it’s God’s hand you are holding.

He has a BIG plan for me. I have believed that for nearly 10 years and I am patiently anticipating the day when I will be able to see the plan complete. I can taste it. I can feel it. I have learned to be content knowing that God does not delay and each day is preparing me for the next. It is more true today than yesterday, and I will continue tomorrow to want what you want Lord and nothing less!

I promised 3 points and a poem so what poem do I pick?

You split the sea so I could walk right through it.

You drown my fears in perfect love.

You rescued me and I will stand and sing.

I am a child of God! Yes I am! I am a child of God!

Not exactly a poem, but profound lyrics from Bethel Music’s “No Longer Slaves (Live)”.

Debt Free Living

“Look kids there’s the ocean.” While it was not their first time to see the ocean, it was the first time to see it in Florida.

“Look kids there’s the ship!” It was magnificent and enormous. The Disney cruise ship was ready to set sail and we were going to be on it.

Three years of hard work, perseverance and obedience had brought us to this place. I don’t know who was more excited – the grown-ups or the kids. As we stood on the escalator and it carried us to the second floor of the Disney terminal, the sound of Disney songs filled the air and at the other end of the terminal was a giant set of Mickey Mouse ears a top the tunnel that would usher us onto the ship. I was overwhelmed with emotion. We were debt free and the reality of a dream come true was sinking in for the first time. It was no coincidence that we were boarding the Disney Dream ship.

So let’s rewind 3 years and remember where this voyage (pun intended) began. I prayed one morning asking God to do a work in our finances. Like most people in America, we were living outside of our means. We didn’t make big frivolous purchases or charge expensive vacations, but we did use credit cards to make “well thought out” decisions and to fill the gap at the end of some months when the bank account ran out too soon. Frugality was my friend and we deliberately made decisions to keep expenses under control. We did NOT, however, create a monthly or annual budget and attempt to actually follow it. It was more like give a little, save a little and spend the rest as it comes in.

The same day I prayed that prayer one of Tyrone’s colleagues walked into his office with a book – “The Total Money Makeover” by Dave Ramsey. It was the answer to my prayer. Tyrone read the entire book that weekend (and has read it several more times since) and we set forth a draft of a monthly budget. It took a few weeks, but on February 1, 2014 we set the plan into motion. We sat down with scissors and our credit cards and cut them all up. We included our children so they could be a part the process too. We set up our $1000 mini emergency fund and immediately an “emergency” happened. Our van broke down and the next month our washing machine needed a repair. I wrote those checks stress free for the first time ever because we had a plan – we were planning ahead so things that were once emergencies became little bumps in the road.

In January 2015 we launched a support raising campaign so that our oldest 2 kids and I could take a mission trip to Africa. Another dream come true for me! I knew without our money makeover; I never would have had the courage to say yes to the trip. After God completely overwhelmed us with the generosity of all of our donors, we decided we needed to up our giving. We went from giving our basic 10% tithe each month to giving 12% to our local church and another 3% to short term and long term missions. God continues to bless our generosity today as he surprises us all the time with little extras and the filling of gaps. And now that we are debt free (except for our mortgage) we have to continue to work the plan, follow our monthly budget, and honor God with all the resources he has given us.

As challenging as it was to become debt free, I believe the true challenge is just beginning. We have big goals – God sized goals. We need to stock a full emergency fund and start saving for college for 4 kids. We need to grow our retirement fund now that the debt is gone. I have resigned from my part time job and will be returning to college this fall to pursue a master’s degree. We are trusting that if this is God’s plan, he will provide the financial resources to make it happen with no debt. This is where faith and reality intersect. Do we believe God will continue to provide as he has done for the last 3 years? Do we believe that he will provide opportunities for fun vacations and little weekend get-ways so we can refresh and build family memories? And even harder, do we trust him with our hearts even if we never set foot on another Disney cruise ship or travels to Africa again?

The key to the whole thing has been obedience. 1 John 5:3-4 NLT says, “Loving God means keeping his commandments, and his commandments are not burdensome. For every child of God defeats this evil world, and we achieve this victory through our faith.” We have freedom through our obedience and faith. We understand more now that his commands are for our good. It isn’t always easy, but the burden is light, especially compared to the burden of debt and disorganized finances. We are overcoming the world by making the deliberate choice to surrender our money to God because it all comes from him anyway. Now as Dave Ramsey says, “we can live like no one else so that we can live and give like no one else.”

Live Fearless

A few weeks ago I took some time to reflect back over 2016. I started with a blank page in my navy blue, leather bound journal. At the top I wrote the word THANKFUL. Thankful was my theme for 2016. It certainly set a ton for my year, but I wasn’t always the best at remembering to be thankful. In my mind, when I sat down to begin my reflection, it was motivated by all the really difficult events our family had experienced in 2016. There was death, illness, car break downs, disobedient children, lack of grant funding, discontentment with my job, and saying good-bye to friends who moved away. Then there’s the social injustices in our country and the world that leave a lump in my throat, a knot in my stomach and cause a lot of restless nights pondering how to “fix it”.

Praise the Lord! He was right there with me when I put my pen to that blank page. After titling the page “The Year 2016” I wrote “started with the word THANKFUL”. What? I was not thinking about being thankful when I sat down. This was going to be a list of my grief and pain in 2016. It was hard, but God lead me to start with THANKFUL. So…the page is not only filled with the list from my first paragraph, but it also contains:

-          Our annual kid-free get away (to Boston in 2016)

-          Trip to Philadelphia for Wesley and Taylor’s wedding

-          Celebrating Taylor’s Olympic debut and gold medal

-          Cash to pay for all the extra car breakdowns and unexpected events

-          GroveU college students

-          Leading All 4 One weekend of service

-          4^th annual Greenhouse Lock-In (record 100 kids attended)

-          My 20-year high school class reunion

-          Former student-athletes coming to visit us

-          Debt free plan coming to completion

-          Mini weekend vacations

-           Awesome camp experiences for the kids

-          New friendships

-          Hard conversations to bring light into dark places

Wow! What an amazing year when you look at that list. As I put both lists under the perspective of THANKFUL I can celebrate it all. The hard stuff helped me trust God’s plan and purpose for my life. The fun stuff helped me relax and rest in His goodness. The completion of some things and newness of others helped me believe more in God’s faithfulness. I am THANKFUL for every single thing I wrote on that page (I ran out of room) because God is working in all of it for my good.

Now comes the enormous task of looking ahead to 2017. What does God have planned for this year and what will my perspective be? Will I have learned from my year of THANKFUL in all things? The answer came on Christmas morning.

I have been running for about 2 ½ years and live most days dressed to exercise. I have a small collection of funky looking running tights. My collection grew by one when I opened a package from Tyrone. It was a new pair of capris-length, Nike running tights. They are purple, grey and black in a zebra striped pattern. Tyrone picked them because he likes how they make my bootie look ;-) God picked them just for me because inside the waist band, which was surprisingly comfortable, were the words “RUN FAST. LIVE FEARLESS.” There it is! Immediately I knew my theme for 2017 was meant to be LIVE FEARLESS. I also intend to run fast (relatively speaking) too. On the foundation of thankfulness in all things I can live a fearless life. In a world that is full of grief and despair, I can live fearlessly because God is with me. In a world plagued by hatred and intolerance, I can lead with love for everyone in my path. In a world full of uncertainty and injustice, I can rest in the Sovereign Creator who never falls asleep on the job. In a world buried in the darkness of sin, I can reflect the light of my Savior Jesus Christ so other see there is hope.

There will be two lists again at the end of 2017. One list of the great things. One list of the bad things. When I get overwhelmed by the bad, I pray for the strength to trust. When I get lulled into the false security of the good, I pray I will awaken quickly to worship.  I hope, and you can pray for me, that I will have LIVED FEARLESS on the foundation of THANKFUL through it all for the glory of God so that people from every age, race, gender and sin will know and worship him.

We All Need a Hug Sometimes

Yesterday morning, I went to eat breakfast in my hotel before driving back to Atlanta, GA to catch my flight home. I had traveled to attend my college teammate’s wedding. I walked into the breakfast area to find to TV tuned to CNN and a news story featuring Donald Trump. I also saw a black woman starring at the TV. She worked there in the hotel and her role was to service the breakfast area. She had a slender frame and her hair was short and natural. I don’t know how old she was or if she had a family of her own. I don’t know if she was a Jesus follower or not. She looked concerned as she stared at our newly elected president on that screen. I believe she has every right to be concerned given his statements and behavior toward people of color.

I had no idea how she would receive me – an unfamiliar white woman. I felt the Holy Spirit nudge me in her direction. I gently put my hands on her shoulders and said, “You don’t have to watch that.” As she turned to me, we began to hug for a brief moment. Then she said, “I guess we just need a hug sometimes.” I instantly became a friend. We talked briefly about the outcome of the election and the grief we are both feeling. Then she looked at me with tears welling up in her eyes and asked as she placed her hand on her chest, “What does this say about us?” Not us as a nation, although that is a valid question. Not us as in her and me. She was asking what does this say about her (and all African-American citizens of the US) that so many people would look past the character of this man and elect him as our new leader? Her question is does my life matter and does my experience in this nation matter to anyone who looks different than me?

I hope in those moments she knew that her beautiful dark brown person and her experiences that have been very different than mine matter to me. I hope that I was a blessing to her and her life was somehow better because of my willingness to reach out to a stranger.

As I began my drive to Atlanta, I prayed for her and people who are feeling that same hurt and fear. I prayed that no matter what other people say or think she will know that she is a unique creation of an Almighty Creator. I prayed that no matter how unloved she feels in her own nation she is loved by the King of the Universe.

It is no secret that we are facing challenges in this world. There is nothing new about that, but it feels new if we don’t study history and recognize the brokenness of our world. We do hold differing opinions on the solution to those challenges. We do hold strong convictions about whose fault it is that we have to deal with our particular challenges. It seems easier to assign blame than take responsibility for our part. It seems the hate and anger of some is infiltrating the hearts and minds of many. I know I struggle to guard my heart and mind from the volumes of information that sit at my fingertips each day.

Jeremiah 29:13 says “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with your whole heart.” It is so hard to really do that when there are so many voices competing for our attention. It is even harder when some of those voices claim to speak on behalf of your religious beliefs or strongest convictions. About 3 weeks ago I was wrestling with God over decisions I am working through. I wanted so desperately to talk to people that lonely Monday morning, but there was no one to be found. My lunch plans were canceled. My friends were busy at work. It was clear God was saying, “Lynette, you just need to talk to me!” I spent that whole day walking and praying, crying and listening, singing and reading scripture. It was hard. By the end of the day, the only human beings I had spoken to were my husband and children. It was hard, but it was good. God was providing clarity as I chose to spend time with him asking questions and seeking his direction apart from the influence of the world.

I recognize the fear and anxiety I experience when God is asking me to follow his plan and make changes in the way I live so I am more in line with his purpose. I am making a decision to stand up in the face of fear of that which I don’t understand. I want to live a life recklessly abandoned to the Glory of God. I am choosing to temporarily reside in this broken world, but claim my citizenship in the Kingdom of the ONE TRUE KING.

When I make the choice to turn away from fear and my selfish ambition and turn toward God’s goodness, I can more clearly see the world as he sees it. I can begin to put the needs of another ahead of my own. I can set aside my desire for comfort, easy living, and American security so that God can shape and mold my character. I can recognize my mission here on earth as a citizen of God’s Kingdom is to make his name great so that people of every age, gender, race and sin will know and worship him.

In order to live out that mission, I need to…

1.       Recognize I have been put here for such a time as this.

In Esther 4:14-17 Mordecai spoke these words to Esther as he appealed to her to put her life on the line to stop the plot of Hamen to have all the Jews annihilated. Her response was to fast and pray and go before the King, even if she was sentenced to death, out of obedience for the good of others.

2.       Understand that being a peacemaker doesn’t mean I will have no adversity.

Proverbs 17:17 says, “A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.” In order to be a peacemaker, I have to be willing to enter into difficult situations and conversations to more toward a healthier place. Going through adversity with a fellow believer, confronting issues head on, will serve to build a stronger bond between us so we can be about God’s mission.

3.       Be willing to hurt with another person, not because I myself hurt always, but because the fact that they are hurt concerns me. Colossians 3:12-13 says, “Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.”

I want to lead with these qualities. I want non-Christians to see me living this way so they are drawn to the Gospel and I create opportunities to share the Good News with them.

I will no longer live and life of apathy – a life so full of my own stuff that I have no room for someone else’s. I will speak up when I see and hear injustice. I will hug a complete stranger if I can bring hope and joy to her day. I will speak the truth in love so that a marginalized person or non-Christian will know that while we were all enemies of God, he sent Jesus to die in our place and pay the penalty for our sins. I will meet people with forgiveness and compassion NOT fear and self-righteousness.

I have been put here for such a time as this so I will pray and go before the king and if that means I lose my life (figuratively or literally) so be it.

A Time to Learn

My first interaction with a black person was when I was about 10 years old. It was a brief encounter on a playground. She referred to me as “that white girl” when one of her friends asked who pushed the merry-go-round so fast. I never knew her name but I was puzzled by why she referred to me as white girl. You see I lived in a white world. Everyone I knew was white. Everything I knew was white. I didn’t know there was another way.  I believe that black girl knew something I didn’t know. She understood there were different ways because she had been living in a world where there were different skin tones. She had been taught that people may treat her negatively because of the dark complexion of her skin. What I heard from her as a racial comment was simply a descriptive term for her to identify me to her friend. In her world (which was only 1 hour away from where I lived) different complexions were normal. I wanted to correct her and say “I’m just a person. Why do you have to call me a white girl?” Now I believe I am the one who needed to be corrected. God created each of us to look the way we do. He loves the unique qualities that make each of us who we are including the color of our skin (because he put them there). For me to diminish that or pretend that we are not different is just wrong. Our differences have meaning and purpose to make God’s name famous so that people from all walks of life will know and worship him.

In high school AAU basketball and summer camps became a way for me to grow outside my white world and build relationships, albeit temporary ones, with black girls who also played the game I loved. My high school team played an all-black, inner-city school a couple times and one of those girls became a teammate of mine on a summer traveling team. I began see a world beyond my own. It was a little scary. It was intimidating at times. It was a lot of fun too!

By the time I made it to college, I expected to be around black people. I had black teammates and coaches. Approximately 30% of the population of South Carolina is African-American so my white bubble was burst and I was intrigued to meet people of color from all over the country. Most of our time together however, was focused on training and competing so I didn’t get to really dig in and understand what it was like to “be black” in America.

Tyrone and I will celebrate our 15^th wedding anniversary next month. We have known each other for 19 years. I am attracted to Tyrone’s dark skin. He would tell you he is attracted to my white skin. We love the way God has uniquely designed each of us and that we were designed for each other even though we don’t “match”. We love our 4 brown kids or “light black” as Jeremiah likes to say.  I have spent all these years learning what it is like to be a black man in America from him, and now what it is like to be biracial from my children. Tyrone also sees firsthand what it is like to be a white woman in America. The two are very different even though we lay our heads on pillows in the same bed every night. We each come from very different life experiences. He grew up in poverty most of his childhood. He was a military kid. He lived in multiple states and countries before settling in Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina while in middle school. As a teenager, he was raised by a single mom. I lived in the same house on our family’s 150 year old farm 3 miles outside our small Ohio town until I went to college. I baled hay and started driving my dad's truck before I had a license. I played softball in the 3-corner field after the wheat was harvested with my dad, uncles and cousins. We went to the city when we wanted to go to the mall or dine out at a fancy restaurant.

I have said things to Tyrone that no white person should ever say to a black person. Things like “shouldn’t you get over it by now” and “people today didn’t participate in slavery so why are you so angry”. These comments were said out of ignorance, frustration, and a lack of understanding. We tend to say ignorant things when we refuse to look at a situation through another person’s eyes. The wisdom of James 1:19 (NLT) seems the best advice “Understand this, my dear brothers and sisters: You must all be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry.”  Tyrone's story is unique to him, but it does give me a broader understanding of the differences African-Americans face in our country. We understand there are places and situations in this land of the free that our family should not go. We understand that some people look at us and pass a judgement based on the complexion of our family and we may be treated unfairly as a result. I get more upset about this than Tyrone does because it is what he has dealt with his entire life. I am still trying to deprogram from the white privileged life I didn’t even realize I was living.

I am the minority in my household. I am the only one who will get sunburned when we go to the beach. I am the only one with straight hair. I am the only one who doesn’t have the DNA of slave ancestors running through my veins. That is good! It is good to become the minority so I can empathize with what it is like to be a minority. You see, had I stayed in my white world it was possible for me to go days, weeks, months, and for some a lifetime without ever knowing a black person. For a black person it is not that easy. Black Americans (and other minority group too) often find themselves in places and situations where they are the only person who looks like them (hence the term minority). Imagine for a moment, having to seek out people who look like you or looking around and realizing there is no one else who looks like you. As white Americans we rarely, if ever, have to experience being the only white person. I appreciate every experience I have had as the only white girl in the room because I get a snapshot of what life as a minority is like. This is not about mistreatment necessarily because I have never been mistreated when the “minority” but it is always about a willingness to learn. Senator Tim Scott (Republican) stood on the South Carolina Senate floor on July 13, 2016 stating “I have felt the anger, the frustration, the sadness, and the humiliation that comes with feeling like you’re being targeted for nothing more than being yourself.” He also encouraged his colleagues to “recognize that just because you do not feel the pain, the anguish of another…does not mean it doesn’t exist.” http://www.sfgate.com/news/politics/article/Capitol-Hill-Buzz-GOP-Sen-Scott-gives-floor-8376702.php

So please take a moment or two or ten and think before you speak. Take some time and get to know someone who looks different than you. Right here in America we have so many cultures all around us. Americans look so many different ways – just check out the 2016 USA Olympic team if you don’t believe me. http://www.teamusa.org/2016olympicteam To my fellow white people, let’s take time to learn about others and become comfortable with our differences rather than judging minorities because they do things differently.

Mother's Day made memorable

Last Sunday was Mother’s Day. I have a sense of entitlement on that holiday and it grows each year. I feel like that is the day my husband and kids should give me a pass on all mom related responsibilities. They should be extra nice to me and also leave me alone for a good portion of the day. Gifts are great, but words of affirmation and an uninterrupted nap may be the best gifts. This year I received tons of words of affirmation through hand written notes from my 9 year old budding author and the husband of few words. I received toddler hands printed on an oven mit and sweet notes and a potted flower from my preschooler. I received grief from my darling son all day. Saturday night I asked him if he could just be nice and respectful on Mother’s Day and it was as if that simple request sent him into a tailspin of grumpy, preteen moping all day.

I decided to take Maiesha and Lydia shopping at the mall that afternoon. I enjoy shopping and with our budget it is even more fun because I can grab some cash and spend without a care in the world. The girls get it and know we can always get a few things every time we go. At the last minute, Tyrone decided we should all go to the mall. I agreed as long as he committed to take care of Chloe and Jeremiah. They also had to agree to NOT rush us or have a bad attitude if we were “taking too long”. He agreed so all 6 of us loaded up and went to the mall.

Things were going well. We went our separate ways for a while then we would meet up for a bit and then split up again. It all started to go south when I asked Tyrone to meet us in a department store so Jeremiah could pick out some non-athletic shorts and a couple shirts. He found the shorts quickly and we took him downstairs to look at the graphic t-shirts in the men’s department. He said “NO” to everything I picked up just because I picked it. Of course it was only a matter of time until someone would announce the need to go potty. Sure enough, Chloe had to go. I was back on “mom duty” since Tyrone has a mild fear of public restrooms especially when it involves his young daughters who touch everything. We set off toward the bathroom leaving Jeremiah staring at all the t-shirts he might have liked had I not suggested them. And you know the chain reaction that occurs every time one female says she has to go to the bathroom…all 4 of the Washington girls headed to the bathroom.

Hoping for a quick trip, I attempted to help Chloe but she insisted that “I do it myself.” I said that was fine and proceeded into the stall next to hers. I heard her toilet flush and then the crazy began. Chloe yells to me, “Mommy I need your help.” I assume she wanted help with her clothes and proceeded out of my stall to go to hers. Instead she met me in front of the stall with her leggings around her ankles. The auto flush toilet had frightened her so she hadn’t even gotten started. I took her back in the stall and insisted that it was not going to suck her down with all the water and sat her on the toilet.  She immediately went into toddler plank position and refused to sit while screaming “No mommy!” The auto flush went off 2 more times causing her to cry hysterically while I try to restrain her to the toilet seat and encourage her that it is safe to use the monster toilet. She was not having it! We pulled up the leggings and went to wash our hands. Lydia beat us there and was having a soap fest – wash and repeat - just because she could reach the soap dispenser. I quickly thought with all that soap in the sink and no one on lookers in the bathroom, Chloe could pee in the sink. I asked and she said “yes”. I held her on the edge of the sink with one hand while waving the other in front of the sensor to keep plenty of water flowing. Lydia was washing her hands for the third or fourth time which provided the cleaning agent. I wiped that little bootie with some paper towel and washed our hands. Team Washington left the bathroom – mission accomplished albeit not exactly as planned.

My Mother’s Day shopping trip was falling apart, but I could only laugh. We made our last purchase with not a single graphic tee and headed back through the mall to return to our van. What happened next can only be described as a miracle. A man stepped out of a small massage shop to offer a free 1-minute massage. I said “no thank you” in my impatient polite voice while in my head thinking how great a massage and a retreat away from motherhood would be. As I kept walking the man caught Tyrone’s attention and he stopped. I turned around to see the man rubbing Tyrone’s shoulders. Tyrone told him I was the client and pointed at the massage menu and said “She’ll have that one.” He paid the bill and took the kids to the candy store while I received the best 20 minute massage ever. It was the perfect end to a crazy afternoon. Just when I was ready to go into full on no one appreciates me mode, my dear husband rescued me.

When we got home Jeremiah apologized for messing up my Mother’s Day. I accepted his apology and told him that I chose to have a good day even though he tried hard to make it bad. My sweet, thoughtful young man was back (at least for a little bit). God has blessed me with a wonderful family that challenges me in every way, but also loves me well. I am thankful and humbled to have the privilege to be called mom by these 4 crazy and amazing kids. I am also glad their dad recognizes when I need someone to massage the pain in my neck.