An older white woman saw me walk away with him and called the police on me.Being a parent to a curly kid is hard work. She turned around to talk to her friend and I walked off with my son. After we managed to get his shoe back on I thanked her. He started kicking his feet so I couldn’t get it back on.Īnother girl my age saw and came to help. I tried putting it back on, but as little boys do, he thought it was a game. I was taking Matthew out of the front of the cart at Walmart when his shoe fell off. There was one time, though, where I was discriminated against. One woman came up to me and said, "I wouldn’t have handled it like that. She got mad, took her pizza, and stormed out.Īfter she left, I got applause from the people sitting in the lobby. I took a deep breath and said, "I don’t have to explain myself to you, ma’am," and ordered my pizza. I told her, "No, they’re my boys." She looked at Adam with his olive skin and dark brown hair and said, "Maybe him, but not the little white boy." It made me so angry. It didn’t really register with me what she said at first, so I replied, "I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it before." She said, "Well aren’t you their nanny?' My two boys and I were waiting in line to get a pizza one day when a lady asked if I liked being the nanny. Source: Love What Matters But there will always be people who are negative and rude And, truthfully, Matthew loves the attention. Most of them "just can’t help themselves". It used to bother me, because who just walks up and randomly touches someone’s child? But I’ve gotten to where I politely ask them not to. I don’t usually mind, except when I’m in a hurry or I get stopped going down every aisle of the grocery store.Įveryone likes to touch his hair. Their friends, sisters, uncles, cousins, brother had red hair. Usually I hear all about the redheaded family tree from every stranger I meet. People are always shocked by his hair, especially when we are together. Or if they do, the next assumption is ‘Oh, he must get his red hair from his father.’ Actually, both parents have to carry the MC1R gene for the child to have it. That I was his mum and not the aunt, Godmother or the nanny. I can’t count how many times I've had to explain that he wasn’t adopted, wasn’t my stepson and wasn’t albino. Nurses and doctors from all over the OB floor came to see him. Once they put him in my arms, I’d forgotten all about the hair colour until someone brought it up. Partly because he was absolutely stunning, but mostly because a white red-headed baby just came out of an African American woman. The nurse washed him three times before she came back over and said, "No Mama, you’ve got a little ginger." I know that Naval Medical Center Portsmouth is a teaching hospital, but before I could go into a full-blown panic the nurse continued, "he has RED HAIR!" I paused for a solid 10 seconds before I responded, ‘no, just wash him a few times.’ ‘Oh my God’ is literally the last thing any woman, especially one who just spent 11 hours delivering a baby, wants to hear. The moment he was born the first thing I heard was, "Oh my God". As an African American woman, that was the last thing I was expecting! I couldn’t believe it and neither could the nurses. What we didn’t know was that hair was RED! My sister-in-law took the ultrasound pictures that showed a perfectly healthy, beautiful baby boy. Everything was perfect throughout the entire pregnancy. When I became a mother, I didn’t think it could get any better. "Oh My God, he has RED HAIR! That was the last thing I was expecting!"
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