A friend told me a funny story yesterday.


She was with her 4 year old son, and someone mentioned that they saw his dad the other day.  Her son says, “He’s really black.”


Out of the mouths of babes!  He would like to be a little more black like his dad.  His mom is white and he’s a beautiful mocha.


Reminded me of another funny story.


Earlier in the year I ran into a fellow dance mom.  Her daughter is in Summer’s dance class.  Summer is my daughter from Ethiopia.  She told me something cute her daughter had said.  It went something like this:


“Mom, you know Summer.  She’s the one with dark hair [there are lots of blondies in their class].  She has the BEST tan!”


Oh my word, so hilarious!  I love kids.  Out of the mouths of babes.


Most of the time, if little kids say something racist, it’s because they hear it at home.  Otherwise, race/color doesn’t matter, and what comes out is just innocence.


But that’s not the point of my post.


My point is…my kids are black.


Well, three of them anyway.  One is Asian.  Three others are white.


But yes, it’s okay that I say my kids are black.  Really, it is.  And you may, too.


We are so AFRAID of saying something politically incorrect that sometimes we stumble all over ourselves.


Five years ago we went to China to pick up our son.  We traveled to different parts of the country.  When we went to the city of Guangzhou we saw quite a few black people.  Before we had seen almost entirely Chinese people so this was a change.  I said to my husband, “There’s quite a few African Americans here.”


REALLY?  African Americans in China?  Well, I supposed they could have been American, but I sure couldn’t tell that by looking at them!  Maybe they were Chinese.  Or Ethiopian.  Or Australian.  Or European.  I was trying to be politically correct and it came out…well just plain dumb.


Or, when my son Gabe, who happens to be black, was playing baseball last year.  I’m making conversation with parents from other teams and often they ask me which one is my son.


“He’s the one with black hair.  With blue shorts on.  See him?  He’s in left field.”


REALLY? He’s the only black boy out there.  Why would I be afraid to say, “he’s the cute black boy in left field?”


Why?  Cuz I was afraid of not being politically correct.


I guess I could say, “he’s the African American boy in left field”.  But since we’re not done with his citizenship papers, that’s not quite true either.


So now when asked I just laugh and say, “He’s the only black boy out there!  See him?  He’s in left field.”


Cuz really, why not?


If my bio son was the only white boy out there, I would say that with no fear of repercussion. 


But we are afraid that “black” isn’t politically correct.


I’m here to say that it is. 


Now you might want to be careful.  Cuz some white people might stare at you in shock if you use the term “black.”  Mouths open.  Drooling.  But if you’re asking me, politely, about my black children and you say, “black,” I will not be offended.


Although, if you say it in front of my two youngest black kids they might roll their eyes at you.  Because really, they’re BROWN.


Out of the mouths of babes!