When I came back from California I moved into a party house. I was an alcoholic who gravitated toward the same. There I reconnected with a guy whom I had once shared an on again, off again, dysfunctional relationship. We’d known each other for years and drank together often, but didn’t get along when sober. It took quite a while for me to realize that the relationship was a mess and we finally just stopped communicating. About a month later he re-entered my thoughts.

It was February when I confirmed that I was pregnant. I hadn’t seen or talked to the father in over a month. Although I was thrown into quite a bit of turmoil, I made the decision to have and raise my baby. It took me a few weeks to work up to calling my ex-“whatever” with the news. He seemed glad to hear from me and we arranged to meet later that week. He picked me up to go out and I had him pull over a few doors down. I didn’t want to push off the inevitable, or walk home if he dumped me somewhere. I told him my big news. He sat silent for a few minutes, then pulled away.

He was quietly contemplative all night, but assured me he was supportive. That lasted about a day. He repeatedly confirmed his lack of IQ over the next year and a half. It was a tumultuous time of him coming and going from our lives. During one of his feeble attempts to father his child, he accompanied us to a doctor’s appointment. At almost a year old my little mover was already walking. In the doctor’s waiting room, she found someone her height and they immediately began to wobble around together joyously. I remember watching and laughing with them, they were having so much fun.

As we watched the two play, “dad” leaned over to me and whispered, “Teach her to play with the white kids.” It was like a bomb went off for me. For first time it hit me, the race thing wasn’t inbred, it was learned. My very white, little girl was running around the room laughing with her new friend, who happened to be black and male. I realized in that very moment that neither of them knew. It wasn’t a factor in their forming a relationship. It didn’t even enter their minds. All they saw was somebody similar, instead of different. I decided in that second to let her form her own opinions on the matter.

I’m sure that dear old dad never would have said anything if he had known what my reaction would be. It was another turning point in my experience with the race thing. It was a life lesson that renewed my mind. I never did thank the butthead for bringing it to my attention. Ha!

To be continued . . .