Hashtag Heartbroken; Hashtag Stomachache

This morning, I encouraged my homeschoolers to skip class by piling them in the car and taking them outlet shopping and out for fast food fried chicken.

When I got home, there was a kitchen clean, dinner to cook, and someplace to be by a time I won’t make unless I am two people, so I took a nap.

And now, I’m blogging.

Sounds like I am a worthless bag of poo.  But it’s Spring and it’s freezing, and I have possibly one of the worst haircuts in the history of the cosmetology license. So.

Imma just do what I wanna do for a minute and get back to the kitchen.

I have something to get off my chest.

The young ladies of our acquaintance, which number in the dozens, seem to think it is darling to hashtag their statuses on social media with this:

#whitegirl  #whitegirlstatus

Doing something different, they may similarly express a:


These are, in fact, white girls; therefore any status they post is automatically that of a white girl.  Also significant, is that these young women may or may not be aware that black people go to Starbuck’s.

A one of these young women, has told others that she won’t attend classes at the branch of the local community college located a mile from here.  Because it isn’t a safe neighborhood.  It is the one closest to a government subsidized housing project. And yet, She loves to post her #ghettostatus.  Her instagram profile has previously read: “Black girl stuck in a white girl’s body”.

Last week at the Christian Homeschool Co-op, a young lady said, she was trying to ‘sound black in her solo (in choir) because she is’.

She isn’t.

I have spent the last (nearly) 8 years, trying to open a discussion of racism.  Then I would get tired and someone would come to me and ask to help them understand and my neck would be stiff and my heart hard and I would fail to speak well on that day.

Now what do I do?  Give up on homeschooling?  Give up on the church?

I’m tired of being the one to speak out on this topic. People are just going to tell me racism is only using the word black to describe a black person and that if they don’t do that they aren’t. And they think of Emma and Mercy as white.

They aren’t.  They are bi-racial.  (While we’re here, Barack Obama?  Also, bi-racial.  It matters.)  And bi-racial doesn’t mean an acceptable type of black person.

This issue is hardening my heart toward young people who need to have their eyes opened.  It is turning my stomach.  Not my heart to God.

I am broken.  I am not up to it.  I am angry and ashamed of my anger.  I am stifled.

We knew when we adopted them this day would come.  The push back of reality.

We knew when we moved back; we stood in front of a wall we couldn’t bring down.

Now I’m climbing it.

Lord, have mercy.  Christ, have mercy.

Red and yellow, black and white- they are precious in his sight.  Jesus loves the little children of the world.

I love it when you sass me. Please leave a comment.

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