Family

Last night we had an interesting evening discussing Peter Taylor’s “A Friend and Protector” and Cary Holladay’s “Merry-Go-Sorry.” Our discussion touched on the topic of racial tension. Maybe I still do not totally understand it, being from a town that we all-black and white-hung out together, stayed at each other’s homes overnight, and many of us dated each other’s sisters or brothers. The only uproar was coming from our grandparents and we all just figured it was their old-fashioned style.

Although many grandparents shunned the thought of interracial relationships, my grandmother recently held her great-great grandson who is of part black and part white. Because of a situation that occurred about fifteen years ago, I did not know what to expect from my grandmother when my cousin’s son introduced his son to her. My sister dated a young man during her junior year in high school that caused some family controversy. The young man is African American, but that was not the issue. The issue was that his older half-brother had issues with the law. And when my sister had to testify against him in court because he tried to make her an accomplice in his stealing of money orders, that is when my family and his began to feud.

When things from the case all settled down, I had seen the ugly side of people. Race had become the issue instead of the criminal mistakes of one man. My mother had asked me once, what I thought about the whole situation. I replied, “If two people love each other, it should not matter who they are. She [my sister] is not dating the brother. Her boyfriend is a gentleman from what I know of him.” I still do not understand why I was asked about it because a 19-year-old’s opinion doesn’t amount to much in the eyes of a parent.

Ten years later my family flew in from all over America for a reunion. I think that it was the first time since that incident that the whole family had gotten together. So like I said before, I did not know what to expect when my grandmother was introduced to her great-great grandson. When my grandmother held the precious child to her face and kissed him, I found peace in my grandmother’s acceptance. She held the baby for a long time and posed proudly for pictures with the newest addition to her family.