Liana Guru

Joined: 30 Nov 2004 {Posts: 352 }
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Posted: Tue 12 Jul 2005 03:59 Post subject: Two Gay White Daddies, A Black Adopted Baby and Racism |
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Maybe this doesn't belong on the Women's forum but it talks a lot about parenting and the authors face many of the questions people on here have faced so I thought I'd put it here.
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Two Gay White Daddies, A Black Adopted Baby and Racism
Discovering racism through the eyes of a child.
by Steven Boullianne
Some things change quickly, while others change slowly. Ten years ago, it was unthinkable for gay men to adopt children. Today, gay men adopt children. Forty years ago, the black race stood up to the white race and said, “You must treat us as equals.” Today, racism thrives insidiously.
White people raise children without the threat of racism. Black people need to raise their children with an extra set of tools- tools that help their children resist being hurt in a racist society. When gay white people raise black children, a fascinating match is made. Not only do the children learn to live in a white society, but the children also inherit the tools that gay people use to resist being hurt in a homophobic society. These tools build high levels self-esteem, individuality, and maturity- and these are, coincidentally, the same tools black parents bestow upon their children.
My spouse and I are two gay men. We have been living the married life now for eight years, though we cannot marry. We are in our late thirties and we live in San Francisco, near the Castro area. We are bi-national (Belgian/American), we are multi-lingual (English, French, and Dutch), and our families are multi-ethnic (one half-sister and her family are black, one step-sister has three Eurasian children). I worked with children and was a volunteer mentor to boys in foster care for many, many years. I watched the boys grow and mature, and then disappear to other schools or move away, which often left me feeling dejected. One day, I said to my spouse, “lets adopt a baby, there are thousands of adoptable babies out there. We can raise a child. I’m good at it. This child will be our forever child!”
Through our local Department of Social Services (DSS), and with all-embracing support from our extended families, we started the process to adopt a foster child. In 13 months, from phone call to placement, a seven-week-old, beautiful, healthy, black baby boy was placed in our custody. We became parents overnight.
In the first week our son lived with us, I paid constant attention to him. On the seventh day, my son BLOOMED, like a magnificent flower. He cooed and smiled constantly, and made beautiful little boy noises. He had an air of joyous serenity in our home. He was finally content. People said, “what a beautiful baby, so smiley!” I took 500 pictures of him that very month. What a BEAUTIFUL boy. Our son! The three of us bonded profoundly. Our house became a home.
Examining the Race Aspect
Throughout our adoption process, we spent many hours discussing racism: between my spouse and me, with our adoption agent, in the parenting classes, and with friends. I remember discussing racism as one discusses the possibility of rain on the 4th of July…. It might happen, just be prepared. My half-sister is black, her daughters are black, my godson is black, and some of my friends are black. I have come to realize that only a handful of small-minded deadbeats are outspoken racists, while the great majority of seemingly nice people are insidiously racist.
As a gay white man with a really cute black baby, I am a target for questions. Through these questions, I notice the insidious nature of racism in seemingly nice people. The questions that people ask me regarding my son are disgusting, offensive, cruel, and totally unproductive. With smiles on their faces, focused gleefully on my black son, people say, “Oh, he’s beautiful, is he a crack baby?” “Oh, he’s beautiful, his mother a crack addict?” “Oh, he’s beautiful, is he your (black) son?” “Oh, he’s beautiful, did you adopt this (black) baby?” Oh, he’s beautiful, is your wife black?” and so on. I have a friend. He’s very black, with great big dreadlocks. His wife is blond and blue eyed, of Swedish descent. Their 4-month-old daughter is very blond, with blue eyes. He takes her everywhere with him. I always imagine people asking him these questions, and how he would feel. “Is she your daughter? Is she a crack baby? Where’s her mother? Is your wife white? Did you adopt this (white) baby?” How disgusting, cruel, and unkind those questions are when applied to this black father of a white baby. Fortunately, people don’t ask him these questions.
Some People Hate
As a child, I was raised in an upper class neighborhood. My father’s company invented the microwave oven. In our entire neighborhood of successful, white families, there was one black family. The Duponts. Mr. Dupont was a famous brain surgeon. He had performed brain surgery on kings, sheiks, princesses, and billionaires. He stood 6 feet 5 inches and had a lovely, warm face. He was the smartest man I knew and I always felt happy around him. The Duponts lived in a big house, with a wonderful garden. The oldest daughter was valedictorian of UCLA. His second oldest daughter went to U. C. Berkeley and was an awesome athlete. My best friend growing up was Martin Dupont. I was often jealous of Martin. He was very handsome, more mature and better at sports than me, and his school grades were practically perfect. He radiated self-esteem.
Martin and I saw each other every day. We walked to school together for years and bought pastries on the way. Through Martin’s family, I grew to idolize Sidney Poitier. Poitier didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. If any human could achieve something than so could he. He went from being a Caribbean tomato farmer to Oscar winning actor and director- all as a result of his determination. He courageously doubted and challenged his naysayers. I remember when I was eight-years-old, I chose to write a report about Sidney Poitier for school. It had to be one page, single-spaced. I read several biographies, saw all the films about him that I could, and wrote a twenty-page report. I was very proud of myself, proud and inspired by Sidney Poitier.
My parents were 60’s reactionaries to straight white 50’s, catholic, conservative, small minded people. My dad, a successful white man, had two best friends, an African man and a Korean man. My mom did charity work in immigrant churches. While we were considered a ‘rich’ family, we were taught that good stuff needed to be shared, or it would go away. I realize today that my family was what’s known as “liberal white”.
My grandmother, on the other hand, was what polite people called “a mean old lady”. My parents would say, “We’re going to grandmother’s house!” There usually followed a dry silence. When I was twelve-years-old, my grandmother had intestinal surgery and would recover at our house. She would stay in bed most of the time. My parents set up a room for her with the bed right next to a window that she looked out of all day long. After school, Martin and I played in front of my house, under the scrutiny of my grandmother. That night, at dinner, she asked, “Who was that boy I saw you playing with?” I said, “my friend, Martin”, expecting a truckload of something nasty. She then said, “Why are you playing with a boy like that.” A boy like what, I wondered. She then said, “Don’t you know he’s different from you? You shouldn’t play with boys like that!” I thought, “Martin is smarter, faster, better looking, more courageous, and his dad is a brain surgeon.” She can’t mean that I shouldn’t be playing with such a better boy than me. At that moment, my mother, looking bitterly at my grandmother said, “He has not been taught to hate black people”, and a very heavy argument followed. It was at that moment that I learned that some people hate people like Martin and his family, only because they are black.
Seeing Hate All Around
As a human on earth, in the year 2001, I notice hate all around me. Republicans hate Arabs and drop bombs on them, Turks hate Kurds and shoot them with machine guns, Hutus hate Tutsis and kill them with machetes, and white people hate black people. In America, the whites are no longer outwardly racist toward black people. Their racism has become what’s called “passive aggressive”. I call it insidious. Having a black son has elucidated this insidious racism. For instance, there are no black heroes in Saturday morning children’s cartoons. At the end of black history month, the black faces come down and the usual white faces are put back up. In Forbes fortune 100, there is only one black CEO. Black girls aren’t chosen to play the fairy princess in the school play. Teachers think black children misbehave because they are black, and not because there is a problem to solve. And sadly, the epiphany of careers for a black man is to play professional basketball. People wish me this career for my son- what an insulting remark. My spouse has doctorates in math and science, and I have postgraduate degrees. And we expect the same level of achievement for our son…I see MBA, not NBA.
I now have a heightened awareness of the problems that all black people face in this country. Because of my son, racism is my problem too. I’ll be damned if my son goes to a job interview and a less qualified white person is chosen. I’ll be damned if my son is allowed to rise all the way to ‘just under’ a white person. And I’ll be damned if some boob shuts out my son only because he is black. The greatest injustice that I have so far done to black people is to not notice the insidiousness of racism. But racism propagates because of both white people and black people. Black people who do not defy racism are equally to blame as white people who act as racists. Black men who live up to their stereotypes are equally to blame as the white people who apply these stereotypes. Black and White parents who sanction dishonest, closed-minded, and lazy attitudes towards other races are to blame. Both races will need to work together to fix this problem.
"Need Facilitates Change"
Need facilitates change. The sudden change that allowed gay men adopt children was because of need. In America, there are thousands of outstanding gay homes that yearn to raise children while there are thousands of children who need outstanding homes. When finally the research proved that gay people make good, if not better adoptive parents than straight people; the adoption floodgates for gay people came crashing open. Love makes a family. Need inspired quick change. And gay people were granted the right to adopt children.
In the case of racism, white people think they don’t need blacks. NOT so. Our two cultures have been enmeshed in American culture for 200 years, much longer in Africa. Still, white people have the money and the power, and think they don’t need black people. On the other hand, black people need white people’s money and power to advance in a world that whites control. Blacks depend on whites, but whites don’t think they depend on blacks. In Darwinian theory of evolution, the human exchange fosters the advancement of the species. White people who isolate themselves are at a detriment. They do not mix, share feelings, ideas, or knowledge. They do not learn about the principals of basic humanity, nor do they understand the principals of the evolution of a species. White isolation fosters the extinction and impoverishment of the white race. When white people finally acknowledge their evolutionary need to blend with black people, then racism will die out
Some things change quickly, while others change slowly. Ten years ago, it was unthinkable for two gay white men to adopt children. Today, it is commonplace. Forty years ago, the black race stood up to the white race and said, “You will treat us equally.” But forty years later, racism thrives insidiously. I have made a pledge to my son. At any time that I feel racism, I will fight it. At any time that I see the racist rat out of the corner of my eye, I will hunt it down and lay poison. At any time that I see a way to make a change, I will. I promise this as a dedicated father. I have great expectations for my son and I am prepared to go to any lengths to help him achieve his highest level of potential. |
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