
I have taught middle school for ten years, and the truth is, every spring I look less and less forward to the last few weeks of the school year. All the ways I wish that I could have done the year differently float to the surface. Just how well did I meet the needs of all of my students? Did everyone make measurable gains? I teach reading almost exclusively by using authors from a diverse background (taking into consideration ethnicity, gender and class) and I am more and more able to show up for the difficult conversations. But, did I teach what I set out to? How did I continue to have the important and difficult conversations with my colleagues, and the larger community? These questions take on even more weight, as I imagine my sons’ future teachers wondering the same things.

This fall my teaching lens will broaden it’s focus to include looking out for how my soon to be kindergartner is experiencing his formal introduction to his educational career! As a mother of a blended family (my youngest Marcel is biologically related to me, so he has a white mother, and a Black donor. My oldest, Sam is Black. He was adopted transracially at two days old, in the United States), I have a lot of work to do to make sure everyone here is seeing themselves in their educational (in and out of school) experience. Where my academic background helps, I still feel woefully unprepared in a lot of ways.
For starters, I will have new territory to tackle around talking about adoption in the school setting. Then there is the issue of the lack of representation of children of color in children’s literature. Add the single parent household and whatever expectations that carries (or doesn’t!!) with it, and you see why I am not taking my picnic blanket down to the park for a summer nap just yet. With all of the attention I have placed on leveling the playing field for Sam, I have begun to feel like I have dropped a big ball with Marcel.
What will be different and unique about his learning style, and educational needs? How will his own heritage be addressed and celebrated in his public school experience in a few years? How do I celebrate it now? I take Sam to a Black church, while Marcel stays home with a sitter (because I can’t deal with his crawling over the pews and shocking the elderly woman in front of us with the VROOOOM sound he makes for his truck). As I prepared to write this piece I started realizing all the ways that I don’t consider Marcel’s background as needing the same amount of deliberate intention as Sam’s. When did I place more value on Sam’s then Marcel’s? What is really at play there? Am I trying to make up for my own white guilt by overlooking Marcel’s half white heritage as equally important?
Do I expect him to synthesize on his own that all of those Black characters in the book represent his donor’s heritage, and therefore must be seen as important to him too? The other day he looked at a brown rug, and said; “Sammy that rug is the same color as you.” Sam said nothing. I piped up “And the same color as you Marcel. You have brown in your skin too. So does Mommy, but mine is in these little freckles.” Marcel looked at me, and then looked at the rug and said; “No Mommy. That rug does not look like me, because I look like you.” I wasn’t ready for that. Parenting. What are we ever ready for?
How do other Mixed and Happies tend to the mutually important needs of their blended families? How do you celebrate the combined heritage of two parents with equal intent? What are some of your successes and resources that you’d like to share?
Guest blogger Mama C describes her blog as a single mother’s journal of a trans-racial life made all the better through adoption, birth and chaos with consistency. For more from Mama C, visit her at www.mamacandtheboys.com.









