The learning curve

Becoming a multi-racial family has given us the opportunity to learn and grow. We are on a continual learning curve, and still have much to understand. We grow by learning from others and "on our feet" in the midst of daily happenings. I have never, to my knowledge, been judged by the color of my skin. Nor have I ever been denied entrance to a facility or access to opportunity simply because I look a certain way. The only time I am ever a minority, both by my skin color and spoken language, is when I travel to Guatemala.

When I am in Guatemala I look different. I sound different - especially when I attempt to speak my horrible Spanish! Particularly when I am out in the rural areas I stick out like a sore thumb. I have had children peak at me from behind trees and shirk away from me because I am a strange-looking white woman. Each time I fly home from Guatemala it feels strange upon landing in the US and hearing English all around me. However, I realize these experiences really do not offer a true picture of being a minority. I have the ability to step back into being part of the majority.

Our family continues to learn about being multi-racial. Some of us are white with some German and British heritage. Some of us are brown with some Maya and Spanish heritage. While we do not discount any of our ethnicity, we look at skin color simply as that - skin color. As the three youngest get older conversations about skin color become more frequent. Phrases such as "he is brown like me", "I am brown but you are white Mom", and "he has brown skin so did he come home on an airplane?" are part of our daily life. Sometimes the conversations are funny, and sometimes they are a bit more serious.

Gustavo is our kid who is king of random thoughts. One never knows what is going to come out of his mouth. Seriously. Last night, as we were eating dinner, Gustavo began a conversation that went something like this:

Gustavo: Mom, is Santa white?

(Mom and Katie give each other the "oh my goodness" look across the dinner table)

Mom: (Gulp, pause to collect my politically correct thoughts) Well, Gustavo, I'm not sure since I have never seen the real Santa Claus.

Gustavo: Yes, we have! We've seen the real Santa!

Marco: Remember, we saw him at the mall!

Gustavo: Yeah!

Mom: Well, usually the Santas at the mall are really Santa-helpers and not the real Santa Claus.

Gustavo: I think he is white.

Conversation ends, everyone is satisfied, no one is crushed or disappointed. No big deal as we move on to discussing whether it is appropriate or not to eat from someone else's plate. Disclaimer: no, it is not appropriate to reach over to your sibling's plate and help yourself.

Katie and I steal another comical glance. Just another day in the Davis home.

Of course you know what the next question is likely to be don't you?

"Mom, is Jesus white?"