Rollin’ Coal

Ever been “coal rolled?”  I have, and so has my family.  Flashback to last Saturday in Richfield, Wisconsin when we were eating outside.  I wasn’t holding a BLM sign, protesting, rioting, looting etc.  I was eating lunch.  Now before you get all defensive and tell me “maybe it wasn’t directed at you or your family,” or you say “maybe it’s just an asshole who does that to people outside,” or “maybe he was just accelerating”,  we were the only people outside, and I’ve eaten thousands of meals outside and it’s never happened to me, and it’s a 25 MPH zone in the middle of town.  A thick black cloud of smoke was meant to cover me and my family while we ate. (nothing at all against the restaurant, they were so kind and great food!)  You want to know why it happened?  It’s because I was sitting with 2 Black kids.  Two Black kids who will be far too soon in their lives seen as adults and then threats.  This is the world we live in.  If you don’t believe it happened because my children are Black, GTFO of my life.  Facebook and otherwise.  That’s not the lack of support I need for me or my family.  When a family can’t sit outside and enjoy a meal without being harassed it’s a sad world.  And I didn’t even mention the guy on the dirt bike who drove by 3 (yes 3 times) and stared us down.  Gee, I wonder why?

Growing up in Central Wisconsin I know all too well what bigotry and racism looks like.  Yeah, I know it exists all over…there are some areas worse than others.  Central Wisconsin is one of them.  What does that matter you may ask?  Well…I know a racist.  I know a bigot.  I know bias when I see it.  Coal rolling me and my family because we have Black children is all three of those things.  It is.   

Here is a message straight to you who did it or would do something like this.  Grow a pair.  Stop and have a conversation.  Look me in the eyes.  Look my Black children in the eyes.  Scared?  Because I’m not.  Do it.  Be better.  Come and have a conversation.  DON’T be a coward.  Yeah, I called you a coward.  Your conceal carry doesn’t make you a man (or woman), or tough.  Because that’s what you are, a coward. You are a coward.  I’m not shying away or backing down from you.  And I never will.     

You know what I’ve realized?  I’ve got cowards in my family who try to justify this.  I have cowards in my friend groups who try to justify this.  I see cowards online who justify this.  Enough is enough.  Bye.  You have no right to be in my life.  I’ll say it in a different way even.  YOU WILL NEVER HAVE A PART IN MY CHILDREN’S LIVES.  Do you get that?  That means don’t call, don’t write, don’t speak to me.  Like I said, if you want to have a conversation instead of justifying why “coal rolling” happened to me and my family I will do that.  If not GTFO.  (Google it if you don’t know what it means.) 

My children deserve a fair shot in this messed up world.  See their color, see their worth, see their good.  Don’t treat them like you “don’t see color.” Treat them like you do and you see a king and a queen who are capable of any and everything, like I do.  And like they should. 

 ~Eli

Two Kids, Two Pandemics

I have not blogged in so long.  I started blogging to reflect…as an outlet, but then life happened.  Kids happened.  A pandemic happened. I’m sure some of you have a “special way” to feel about me right now.  I’ve been “ranty” lately in social media…I call it passionate, protective.  I’ve been distant.  I haven’t been as quick to text back.  Because like many of us during 2020 I’ve been just keeping it together. Ready to buckle up?  This is going to be a long one.

My children came to me via adoption right before the New Year–2020.  They came to me as a beautiful 13 and 10 year old (now 13 and 11 year old). Beautiful, intelligent, kind, amazing…but they were essentially strangers.  We, all of us, worked hard to bond as a family.  We really nestled into the winter of 2020 to bond together and we did.  I’m so thankful that I have two amazing children who let me into their hearts and minds.  

Parenting through adoption is hard enough, but we knew it would be.  And we chose this.  We are navigating transracial adoption, adoption of older children, among just the sheer fact of being new parents. And then COVID-19 hit.  We had just transitioned our two children into school, and I’m a teacher, so this rocked our world in multiple ways.  We found ourselves navigating what many families were, but after only being together as a family approximately 4 months, this was different…but we did it.

Then George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, among others were murdered–shining a light on the second pandemic that has been ravaging our country since it’s foundation. Prior to adopting my children I was informed, what I considered an “ally”, but nothing could have prepared me for what it would feel to be a mother to two Black children in a moment like that. Sadly, prior to becoming their mom my privilege insulated me from fully feeling that. 

So here I am sitting…using this space to reflect and share.  Holy vulnerable.  But I think I have to share how we’ve changed, what we’ve been through, and why we are so adamant about the things we “preach”. Currently I’m scared…we are on the precipice of starting another school year.  I’m a middle school teacher with two middle school children and I feel scared.  There isn’t another way to put it.  I’m tired of things that are impacting my family being politicized.  My children’s life…my life should not be politicized. My kids need consistency and safety more than ever, but unfortunately that’s not the world we live in.  Safety is not prioritized over “freedom” right now.  That “safety” is deemed controversial.  I wake up everyday praying I’m making the right decisions.

My children are Black.  Some may think it is odd to note that… but I don’t think so.  That’s a huge part of who they are and may I tell you there is nothing worse than a white adoptive parent trying to deny their kids’ race, culture, ethnicity.  I try to speak up, educate, and influence as much as I can while not taking away from the voices that matter–Black voices.  In doing so for the advocacy of my children and my friends who are Black I have been blocked, told that they would request that their children not have me as a teacher, and just generally “iced” out. I’ve made tough decisions on my end as well–to limit contact, to unfollow, to not introduce my kids to certain circles, and to completely cut off ties if necessary.  I’m okay with this.  See my kids’ “blackness” never goes away.  You can’t support us and not “see” them.  Do you get what I mean by “see”? No, I mean do you really get it? Because if you did you would feel what I feel in the very pit of my stomach, which means you have some hard decisions to make.

So where are we right now? Getting by.  We are distant because we have to put our family first.  What can I tell you…I will fiercely protect my kids.  I am building a phenomenal village for my children and those of you who are in it know who you are.  This is not the time for nice sentiments.  It’s simplexly put, a time for radical change.

~Chelsea