Me: Are Mrs. C. and Mr. C. were related?

Her: I don’t think so.

Me: Why not? They have the same last name.

Her: Well, Mrs. C. is brown and Mr. C. is pink.

Me: Oh, okay.

Now, I have gone out of my way to keep her from using the societal labels of black or white, so everyone is either pink or some shade of brown. I was glad to see that her impressionable mind still hadn’t been tainted, but I also wanted her to know that people within the same family can be different shades; heck, even different colors.

So, the conversation ended like this:

Me: It doesn’t matter if they are different colors. They can still be family.

Her: WHAT!

Me: Yup. They can be brother and sister, cousins, or husband and wife.

Her: I don’t think they’re married.

Me: thinking *I’m not going to go there right now* Okay, well maybe they’re related in some other way.

Her: Maybe you’re right. I’m going to ask them today.

*sigh* I guess at some point I’m going to have a more in depth conversation with her about race. But until then, brown Mrs. C and pink Mr. C will have to do

At what age do you think it is appropriate to explain American race relations to children?

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For years after that, I thought that my international bug had fizzled and I had become more realistic about my priorities. Well, lately I’ve started getting that itch again – and for some reason this seems like the right time.

Only now, my concern is how my children will grow up. Already, it is difficult trying keep a healthy amount of Haitian culture in their lives (hence, this blog ), and now I would have to juggle three or more cultures. I would like them to remain assimilated to the American culture while away, but I wouldn’t want them to stay completely shielded from the culture of the “host” country. You would think I go around looking for trouble!

Well, I am hopeful that I can achieve this balance. If you have any ideas/success stories on how to do it – please share. If not, I will know that I will be the Neil Armstrong of cultural harmony .

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We often hear that we are supposed to want our children to “do better” than we did. For my mother, who had to drop out of school at 17 to support her family, I can completely understand where that desire comes from for us. However, I feel that I have been successful in both what my mother wanted for us, as well as in terms of goals that I set for myself.

So, is it fair to expect my children to do better than me? What would that entail? Getting farther in their education, making more money, etc? Can I just hope that they be happier than me?

I admit that I have worked hard for everything that I have and continue to do so. But, I also think that is why I appreciate my life so much. Without my struggles, how would I know that life could be a lot worse?

Am I making sense? What are your thoughts about the expectations of success for [your] children?

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I have to admit that a school’s diversity has always been in afterthought in where I choose to put my children. I first want to make sure that they are in an environment where they can thrive socially, emotionally and cognitively because I think at that age culture is very abstract and therefore not a priority. After reading how much thought this parent was putting into this, as well as some of the answers, I started to think maybe I was overlooking something.

In the book Inheriting the City, the author mentions that immigrants have the tendency to want cultural awareness for their children, but will place them in culturally non-diverse school because they are often seen as “the best”. While this can sound elitist, I can’t blame parents for trying to offer their children the best chances to succeed academically.

For me, by virtue of looking for the qualities above, I found that schools became less and less diverse – this may only happen in urban areas. Now, was I supposed to forego quality programs and look for others that had more of a mix? That sounds wrong to me, but let me know your thoughts.

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For all those times people assumed that I was a refugee (because all immigrants are), grew up in slums (again, because all immigrants did), was a single parent (since all black women are) or that I was an anomaly because I spoke English clearly - I was only pushed me to keep striving to be the person my parents worked for me to be; one who was not limited by ethnicity or gender.

In recognition that my struggles are much fewer than those of my parents, I also hope that those of my children will be greatly diminished; if not nonexistent.

What are some difficult situations that you made you stronger as a person?

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