Some people can say some pretty insensitive and unnecessary things to me when they want to discuss the fact that I have an African American daughter and my husband and I are Caucasian. I have dealt with this for the past two years and am learning how to respond to these statements and keep the conversation going. However, something happened to me a few weeks ago that I was not only unprepared for but walked away feeling sad at the way a mother treated her inquisitive boy at the grocery store checkout.

Gracie and I had gone in to get a few groceries and were standing in line to pay. A little African American boy and his mother were standing behind us. I am used to getting stared at when I go out with Gracie and I tend to ignore it while also keeping an open attitude in case they want to engage me in converastion. In doing this, I hope to enlighten people that families truly are made in all different ways and spark interest in interracial adoption. So as I was waiting my turn in line, I noticed the little boy, about 10 years old or so continuing to look at Gracie then me and then back to Gracie again. I figured he was gearing up to ask me about her and so I put on my open smile and waited patiently for the inevitable “is that your daughter” question. Finally, after shuffling his feet a bit, he finally did ask. I replied my standard, “yes this is my daughter.” So he in turn said, “I didn’t know that White people could adopt Black people” and I began to reply that all families are made in different ways and that Gracie came to be our daughter because her birth parents chose us to be. That is something that I always like to educate people on because it’s not widely known. In domestic adoptions, the birth parents are given all of the information on the families who are interested in adoption and they, alone, make the decision as to where their precious child should end up. I like to tell that story because it reminds me of how important and wonderful her birth parents are and also lets others know that they had a hand in our “Forever Family.” So as we are talking, his mother is physically getting more and more agitated with our conversation. The boy is enthralled as we are talking and starting to ask more and more intelligent questions. I am thinking how wonderful it is and how open to this idea this little boy is because for some people, it’s extremely hard for them to wrap their minds around it. Suddenly, his mother looks over at him and goes, “Well since you’re so interested, maybe you want her to adopt you and you can go live with THAT family.”

I couldn’t believe it. Not only was she verbally saying to her child that he can so readily be given up to someone else, but she completely shut down our progressive communication. That response from her may close a door that was opening wide at the thought of interracial adoption in that boy’s mind. What I could never really figure out is why she was so angry and what made her take it out on her son. I had no response to that statement although at night I replay it in my mind in hopes that if it ever happens again, I’ll have a way to somehow reach out.