Earlier this week, I participated in the Anti-Racist Parent meme. I was tagged by Cloudscome over at Sandy Cove Trail. And can I tell you something? It felt pretty darn good to be tagged for such a thing. Why? Multiple reasons. Hopefully they come out in a coherent fashion.

First and foremost, I was being recognized as a parent. True, I’m an everyday parent to BigBrother with another one on the way. But my family includes more than just these two boys; it includes the presence of my daughter and her family. Within that stretch, there are more than three different races being represented, bringing the issue into the core existence of what our family is, stands for and hopes to be in the future.

More over, however, was the fact that I’ve still been silently stinging over an issue that happened late last year (that I didn’t find out about until early this year). After the article and picture ran last November, featuring my face next to the Munchkin’s in newspapers and on computer screens across the nation, a very opinionated blogger took the story and basically decided to rip me a new one. For being a racist.

I cannot adequately describe the shock that I felt upon reading the hate-filled words that he and some commenters had for me, my daughter, her family, our situation and the adoption in general… without knowing any of us past two quotes, a smidgen of information and our pictures. Never, in my then-twenty-five-years on the planet, had I been called a racist. I was caught off-guard. It really took me off my center. I was upset for days. My Husband reassured me that it was the most ludicrous thing he had ever heard. A fellow birth mother tried to get me to realize that he was just looking for hits on his own blog. Munchkin’s birth father actually laughed, reminding me that our relationship hadn’t been based on my hatred of the African-American people.

But I was still left stinging. For months to come.

So, in case anyone was left wondering, I did not place my daughter because she is of a different race. The only time race came into play regarding my adoption plan was when I learned that J’s boys were also transracial; I thought that might give them an edge that other families didn’t possess. I figured if I couldn’t parent her (which is what I believed at the time), someone with experience on certain subjects would be a great advantage to themselves and the Munchkin as she will surely face issues in the future.

The stinging has mostly alleviated. I know who I am at the core: I am a mother to the most beautiful girl on the planet and two boys. And while I’m lots of other things as well, that mothering part of me wants my children, all of them, to be raised with the understanding that we’re all amazing. Not just because all humans share certain qualities, making us believe that we should love each other as ourselves, but because we all bring something totally unique to the table. Those differences fascinate me and implore me to continue learning about all kinds of different people and cultures. I hope to pass that love of people, in their blessed uniqueness, onto my children… daily parented or not.

And so, as Cloudscome asked: how did it feel to be tagged? Darn good. While some not-so-nice (and now not-living?!) blogger may have misjudged my character, others who have been privvy to my most-inner thoughts and outward deeds have seen me for who I hope to be: a mother who loves her children equally and who only wants the best for them in this life. I only hope my children will see the same exact thing and be forever blessed and changed by that vision.

(As a note, I will not link to the blogger’s post because, even though he’s now deceased, I do not want the blog to be receiving hits from any of my blogs. Contact me via e-mail for a link if you so desire.)