Could George Zimmerman Be My Son?

"Trayvon could be my son."  I've been reading a lot of that the past few days.

I can identify with that.  Although I am white, I have a bi-racial son.  I can feel the tightening of my heart that comes from danger too near. 

But that is not what I'm reflecting on today.  I'm wondering. Could George Zimmerman be my son?

What parenting, community, neighborhood, extended family, church and school made him who he is?
What society, what culture, creates and claims the George Zimmermans of the world?

More to the point, maybe, is what mother can say that George Zimmerman could not be her son?

This mother would be one who knows that she has instilled a love for all humanity in her son.  She would be confident that she has modeled more than just tolerance for other races, but truly an appreciation and admiration for other cultures. 

She would take her son to a church, mosque or temple, brightly colored by the faces of varying ethnic groups in the pews.  She would live in a neighborhood with Blacks and Whites, Asians, Hispanics, Muslims, Buddhists, Christians and Jews.  This mother would send her son to a school in which diversity was real, and also studied.  Her son would be culturally literate. 

This mother would have friends of varying races and cultures into her home.  She would talk openly with  her son about the value and beauty of culture, and the underlying oneness of us all.  She would have a son who was comfortable asking questions about race.  It would not be a topic to politely avoid.

She would provide models for her son of empathy, compassion and peace.  Violence and aggression would be no part of his psyche.  Neither would fear and mistrust.  He would glorify neither weapons nor power. 

This is the mother, the only one I know, who could say with a clear conscience that George Zimmerman could not be her son. 

I'm a guest blogger today on the subject of trans-racial adoption

I am a guest blogger over at Forever, For Always, No Matter What... today.  Hop on over there and check it out.  Jen is covering adoption related issues during the month of November.  She asked me to share my experience with trans-racial adoption

He's not very dark, is he?

"He's not very dark, is he," an elderly relative asks me, each time we visit.  No, he's really not any darker than my husband, who is Italian.  "He could almost pass for white," an acquaintance says when she meets him for the first time.  "No one would know that he's half black," I've heard from numerous people.  My son Teddy is bi-racial, caucasian and black.  Everyone seems to feel the need to comment about this to me,  from store clerks to teachers to neighbors.

I wonder if it would be the same if I had adopted an Asian child.   I think it would not be.  I wonder if this is just an issue that Americans have with bi-racial children.  I can't say that the people who make these comments are racist, in every case.  But I wonder why Teddy's skin color seems an acceptable topic of conversation, for them to introduce.  I wonder why they seem so pleased that he is "not very dark," and how they can feel that it is an appropriate thing to express to me, and to Teddy.

Between our house and the local elementary school there are two flags hanging in yards as visible reminders of bigotry, hate and discrimination.  If Teddy rode the school bus he would see them out the window twice each day.  I was at a party in our small town, and the spouse of a very high-ranking person in the school system told the absolute most sickening racial joke I have ever heard.   I should add that I live in the northern midwest. 

I wonder if I would feel this way if I myself were black.  Because I am white and I have never felt this type of bigotry against myself, I might be more sensitive and protective of my child.  It seems impossible that I could allow my child to suffer from prejudice, ignorance and meanness at five years old.  Perhaps if I were black I would have learned that it's impossible to protect my child from this hurt.  I think that is the most tragic thing of all.