As some of you know, four of my seven grandchildren recently became "official" members of our family when they were legally adopted by my daughter and son-in-law on April 28. In all the ways that matter most, the kids became members of our family the day Meghann and Barrett got the phone call almost two years ago from social services asking if they would be willing to foster the kids with the intent to adopt them. I'll never forget Barrett's words the Saturday before they picked up the kids when we were out shopping for minivans so they would have a car big enough to transport everyone. He showed me the only photo he had at the time of the kids (for like the 100th time that day), and with tears in his eyes, he said, "Look at them, Terrie. Aren't they beautiful? I love them so much already." So, yes, those four beautiful and wonderful kiddos were members of our family from the day the phone rang all those months ago. It was awesome when the judge finally made it official, but they were my grandchildren long before the gavel came down.
Last night, I went to bed to the sound of countless sirens wailing through the darkness as police and protesters clashed here in Kansas City. Even though my city is far removed in miles from the city of Minneapolis, the outcry for justice in the death of George Floyd is strong in KC just as it is in cities not only across our country but in cities around the world. I have only watched the video once ... the video of a white policeman forcibly pinning Mr. Floyd to the ground by holding his knee against the 46-year-old black man's neck for almost nine minutes. I haven't been able to watch it again ... Mr. Floyd saying, "Please, I can't breathe ... please, officer, I can't breathe," remains steady in my mind after only one viewing. Nine minutes, friends ... that policeman held his knee against George Floyd's neck for nine minutes as he drew his final breaths. And just as criminal, in my opinion, is that three other policemen stood silent and did nothing to stop the brutality. No, that's not right ... the other policemen stood silent and did nothing to stop George Floyd from being murdered in the street right in front of them.
It's not right that my daughter and son-in-law have had to have conversations with their children, especially their 15-year-old son, about the dangers they may encounter simply because their skin is black. But they have to ... they have to talk to them about how they must behave should they ever find themselves in a situation involving law enforcement or racists. They have to tell them they must be careful of their body language and the clothes they wear and the way they speak. They have to tell them that the rules for them, especially the three boys, are very different than they are for young white males. Not because our family believes any of these things are right or just or deserved ... absolutely, most definitely not ... but because there are people in this world who will hate them or harm them or harass them only because they are black. It is wrong that four of my seven grandchildren are held to a different standard by the world than the other three. It is wrong that they have to deal with racism. It is wrong that they are judged unfairly. It is wrong that they have to be ever vigilant lest they find themselves in a situation that puts their very lives in danger. It's wrong that all of these things are true only because of the color of their skin.
When I was Skyping with my Canadians this morning, we talked about the protests happening across the U.S. I've long said that Coraline is wise far beyond her eight years, and this morning her wisdom came shining through as she asked question after question about what a protest was and why the people were doing it. As my daughter-in-law explained to her that a policeman had killed a black man and that people were upset about it, Coraline sat intently listening and I could see the wheels turning in her little brain. When Becca explained to her that the lesson for her in all of this was that we all need to be respectful of everyone, no matter the color of their skin or the country they come from or what philosophy they adhere to or how they dress or who they love or what kind of body they have, Coraline quickly said, "It's ridiculous to be mean to someone just because they are different. Mom, that's just ridiculous." And she's right ... my wise little granddaughter is absolutely, totally and completely right. It is ridiculous to hate or judge anyone because they are different from me.
Four of my seven grandchildren are black, and three are white. One of my grandchildren has blonde hair, one has brown and one is a borderline redhead. Four have brown eyes, and three have blue. One is a very tall 15-year-old young man, and one is still a baby just learning to crawl. Four of my seven grandchildren are boys, and three are girls. All seven are beautiful and healthy and smart, and as they grow up, all seven will have special qualities and gifts that make them uniquely wonderful and special humans in their own way. And all seven deserve to live their lives free of fear and full of love. Not three of my seven grandchildren, friends ... all seven of my seven grandchildren deserve the same opportunities, the same respect and the same equality. And it's up to each and every one of us to make sure we change the world so that they can.
It truly is up to each one of us, my friends ... it truly is indeed.
