We Didn't Know It Mattered

Here we go again.

I'm sitting under the dining room table that my dad put in the basement for just this type of thing. I'm hiding from the war going on in my neighborhood. It's a literal war. I'm trying to just write and block out the noise. It's constant, the screaming and gunshots and more screaming. I don't understand why. I don't understand why it has to be like this. It wasn't like this last month. Last month, we had a big street party in our neighborhood. Last month, we all ate together. Last month our parents talked to each other. Last month I had friends. Last month I didn't know I was different. Last month, I was just a kid like any other kid. This month, I'm a kid with a black mom and a white dad.

Can we just go back?

Can we go back to when I knocked on Mr. and Mrs. Martinez's door and asked for Maria to come and play? Can we go back to when Galina brought us those really cool matryoshka dolls from her visit with her grandparents? Can we go back to when our mothers were trading recipes so we could experience a little piece of one another's culture? Mrs. Taeyang makes THE best kimchi pancakes and Yumi loved my mom's southern pecan pie.

Today?

Today I'm hiding under the table while my father is loading his gun and my mother is peeking out the blinds in the living room. Every now and then, I hear mom's feet as they shuffle across the living room floor to the dining room window and then back to the living room. Mom said Mr. Martinez is angry with dad because dad agrees with President Trump's efforts to build a wall on the border of Mexico to cut down on the number of people illegally entering the country. I don't know why dad wants the wall or why Mr. Martinez doesn't want it. I don't know why Mr. Williams is always yelling "black lives matter". Don't all lives matter? More importantly, does that mean that only half of me matters?

I suppose it never occurred to me that my parents were any different than any other parents. We would all meet at the beach to picnic and play in the surf. We all liked the same songs and we watched the same television shows. We hosted a game night at our house and each of our neighbors hosted as well. We loaded up the neighborhood in our Winnebago and took up the entire back row of the drive-in. We went to the funeral of Maria's grandmother and when my mom delivered a stillborn little boy two years ago, Mrs. Williams and Mrs. Taeyang made enough food to feed the family for a whole month. Mrs. Martinez would come and just sit on the couch with my mom while she cried. She would wipe my mom's tears and hug her and tell her that my baby brother was safe with the angels. She was there, on that couch with mom, every day until the sit-ins on the couch became laugh fests and my mom started to do her hair and makeup again, wash dishes and the best part was her smile. They helped her smile again and now they are fighting one another. Can we just all smile again?

How can we smile again?

PLEASE, bring back the smiles. Tell me why I can't play with Maria. Tell me why Galina and Yumi are allowed to come over anymore. Tell me why can't we choose? You adults don't have to like each other, but I don't hate Yumi! I love Yumi! Let us choose!

Watch us play. Watch us love each other. Watch us learn together. Watch us grow together. Watch us soak up one another's cultures. Look closely at how we do it.

Until you taught me through your actions, I didn't know that the color of someone's skin was supposed to matter. All that matters to me is if the person was nice to me or not.

I didn't know where someone's parents came from was supposed to matter. Was I ALWAYS supposed to be asking if someone was born in America to American parents?

I didn't know that love had a hue or a gender or a religion. I thought love was from the heart and something I had very little control over.

I didn't know we were supposed to hate the things we don't understand. I thought we were supposed to learn about things we didn't understand.

I didn't know I wasn't supposed to love my neighbor. At least that is what the Sunday school teacher told me that the bible says. I am to love them as I love myself, and I love myself a lot! I'm an awesome kid!

I didn't know I was supposed to have judged Yumi by the shoes she wears. I didn't know I was supposed to dislike Maria because her dad came to this country illegally more than thirty years ago. I didn't know I was not supposed to like Galina because she spoke with an accent and her mother didn't speak any English.

I didn't know any of that until you taught me. You've taught me so much in my life, but this is something you could have left out. I don't want to hate my neighbor. I want all lives to matter. I want to matter, but you've left me to question if I matter, which half of me matters more? You've diminished my existence by making me aware that these things are supposed to matter, You've thrown a wrench in the works of my life because all I can think about now is what Christmas will be like this year. Will my mom still be welcome at my dad's family Christmas dinner? Will my dad be permitted to share a table with my mom's side of the family? What will both sides think of me?

The adults in our lives are supposed to protect us, not confuse us with unanswered questions and unexplained change-ups. If you think this is tough on you, imagine how we feel. We just want to play and be friends.

You broke it, adults! Now fix it!