Speaking in Tongues: Raising Bilingual Children

Hi Meltingpot Readers,

I hope everyone who had a holiday to celebrate this past weekend had a wonderful one. We did, but there was so much celebrating going on, I almost forgot it was Easter. We were celebrating my parents' retirement, my younger son's first Little League baseball game and my sister's birthday. And somewhere within all of that revelry, el esposo and I were hosting old friends whom we haven't seen for over five years. And that's what I want to talk about.

Imagine this scene, dear readers. Our friends who came to visit are both ethnically Chinese. The wife was born in Hong Kong and came to the United States with her family as a young girl. We met in New York City when we worked at the same magazine. Her husband, also Chinese, was born in France, but his mother is Spanish and his father is French. So the husband's first language is French, but he also speaks Spanish and Mandarin Chinese. They have two kids.

Because I love an excuse to entertain, we also invited another family over to eat with us. In this family, the father is German and Spanish, but raised in Madrid. Mom is Malaysian. They have two kids.

So, here you have a gathering of six kids, six adults and babygirl. One parent speaks to his children in French. One parent speaks to her kids in Cantonese. Two parents speak to the kids in Spanish. And two parents speak to their kids in English. And the kids, bless their multilingual hearts, respond in the proper language to the proper person. It was truly amazing to witness. And it was loud!

Us parents, we were having a great time discussing our own trials and tribulations trying to raise our children bilingually, or in some cases, tri-lingually. Every family had their own system but it all seemed to work. Our Chinese friends only allow their kids to watch TV in either Chinese or French. And both kids attend a French immersion school. El esposo has never spoken a word of English to our kids. Ever. Our German/Spanish friend initially spoke Spanish to his son on one day and then the next he would switch to German. That got old fast, so he quickly decided on Spanish and has been consistent every since. At the end of the day, everyone decided that consistency in whatever method one chooses, is the most important element of successfully raising bilingual kids.

What do you think? What's your secret to teaching your kids a second/third language?

I'm so listening. And in the meantime, here are some links to websites that might have some more answers.

Spanglish Baby
Growing Up Global
InCulture Parent


Peace!

Repeat Wednesday: The One about the One-Drop Rule and Lice

Hi Meltingpot Readers,

It's Spring Break at my college, but I'm not on vacation. I have so much work to complete in this one week and wouldn't you know, babygirl decides to come down with her very first cold yesterday. Murphy's Law wins again. So, rather than leave you without some food for thought from the Meltingpot, I thought I'd resurrect some of my most popular posts. The ones that people are still commenting on.

So, remember when I asked if head lice respected the one-drop rule? I wanted to know if my mixie kids would be immune to lice, since everybody knows, Black people don't get lice. After writing this post, more than three years ago, many people - both Black and White -- have written in to tell me that, not only did their mixie kids get the cooties, but they did too. Yikes! So, I am afraid, very afraid, because I swear, every other day, we get a note home that yet another child in the second grade has lice.

Feel free to comment here, if you have your own meltingpot lice stories to share. Or go back and add to the original post.

Peace and Extra Hair Grease!

"The Tooth Fairy Left Me a Euro!:" The Benefits of Bicultural Family Life

Hello Meltingpot Readers,

I have a confession to make. The Tooth Fairy in our Kinky Gazpacho household is a bit absentminded. Sometimes she forgets to come. There have been occasions when it has taken the Tooth Fairy four nights before she showed up to pick up a precious tooth.

Lucky for el esposo and I, our children are extremely forgiving. In fact, they usually resort to the naughty or nice Santa play book and assume the reason the Tooth Fairy has been lax in her duties is because of something they've done wrong. I don't exactly deny their assumptions because it usually gets them to correct any deviant behavior they've been displaying without any reminders from me. It's a win-win situation.

Well, the other day, my seven-year old lost his first top tooth. It had been wobbly and dangling for ages and it finally popped out in the midst of a pillow fight with his brother. Needless to say, the excitement for the Tooth Fairy to come was high, as evidenced by his delicate placing of the tooth under his pillow and placing himself flush against the wall as far away from said tooth as possible. "So the Tooth Fairy doesn't have to move my heavy head when she comes," my son explained in all seriousness. (Please note: my kids are 'dentally immature' and at seven and a half, this is only his second lost tooth.)

So, el esposo and I both smiled at this cute child and promised ourselves with a shared look over his head that the Tooth Fairy would absolutely come that night.

But we forgot! I'd like to say it was because something came up, but really, we're just bad.

So the next night, el esposo and I knew we couldn't mess up again. We couldn't disappoint this hopeful child of ours. Once all of the children were fast asleep, I turned to el esposo and implored him not to forget to place the dollar under the child's pillow.
"I don't have a dollar," el esposo said.
"I don't either," I said, panicking. I checked my phone for the time. It was after 10pm. It was freezing outside. And I already had my jammies on. I searched through all of my pockets, the bottom of my purse, but all I came up with was lint and an old piece of gum.
"Can we give him a dollar in pennies?" I asked, eyeing our jar of coins we'd been saving for over a year.
El esposo nixed that idea.
I opened my music box where I sometimes hide money for emergencies. It was filled with money. But it was all foreign from my travels.
"Can we give him a Euro?" I asked, half joking.
El esposo grabbed a coin from my stash. "He's getting a Euro and we'll tell him el Ratoncito Perez brought it from Spain."
(Yes, in Spain the Tooth Fairy is a mouse.)
I didn't know if my son would buy this, but I didn't have any other options.

The next morning, this is what I heard.: "The Tooth Fairy left me a Euro!"
He didn't care that the money was from another country. In fact, when he found out the Euro is worth more than a dollar, he was even more excited. He thought the Tooth Fairy loved him more since she gave him the equivalent of say, $1.25 USD. He promptly added the coin to his piggy bank and announced. "Now I have money for when we go to Spain." And then he started wiggling his other front tooth.

Ahh, the benefits of living in a bicultural household. What does the Tooth Fairy leave your children? I read this great article in the New York Times recently about alternative Tooth Fairy ideas and got a chuckle. You might too.

Peace!

Would You Name Your Son Rhett?: Colorful Baby Names from the World of Fiction

Hi Meltingpot Readers,

Recently I saw an article on Parents.com that said the latest trend in baby naming was to name your kid after a fictional literary and/or cinematic character. Apparently it's all the rage these days. Considering I named my own babygirl after a fictional nubian princess, I could only agree, although I felt a little "sheepish" knowing I was part of a so-called trend. Still, I was curious to see if babygirl's name made it on to Parent's list of top-ten names culled from our favorite books and movies. Not even close. In fact, there's not one female name on the list of any characters of color. Not a one. Instead, we have names like Gatsby, Eloise (from the children's book), Darcy and Rhett. Yes, Rhett. Would you name your Black child after Rhett Butler? I'm just sayin.

Still, I love the idea of naming one's child after a favorite hero or heroine in literature. In case you do too and have a baby to name in the near future, I thought I'd create my own Meltingpot list of best baby names from some of my favorite books and movies. So, here goes:

1. Sula (Toni Morrison's main character in the novel of the same name)
2. Beloved ( Same as above. I just think it would be cool to name my child Beloved.)
3. & 4. Birdie & Cole ( The two mixed sisters in Danzy Senna's Caucasia. Obvious Jazz influence there)
5. Coco (From Fame, the movie, not the TV series)
6. Storm (From the X-men, can be for a boy or girl or both.)
7. Isis (From superhero/Egyptian lore)
8. Shelby (From Dorothy West's The Wedding)
9. Lilo (From one of the better Disney flicks, Lilo & Stitch)
10. Fire ( He was the sexy, Jamaican poet from Colin Channer's sumptuous debut novel, Waiting in Vain. If I were to have another boy, I might name him Fire.)

Okay, dear readers. What names would you add to this list? I'm listening. And perhaps a whole bunch of expectant mothers are too, so speak up.


Peace!

Food for Thought -- An Ode to Okra

Hi Meltingpot Readers,

As you can imagine, with a new baby in the house, and two growing boys to feed, dinner time has become a serious issue in the Kinky Gazpacho household. There never seems to be enough time or energy to make a nice meal these days. Not to mention, who has time to grocery shop? Well, I was tickled pink -- or I should say purple -- the other day, because a good friend of mine dropped a big bag of homegrown veggies on my doorstep. Included in the mix? A huge bag of purple okra.

Dear readers, I've never been a huge fan of okra. And el esposo claims he's never seen okra in Spain. Honestly, I really only thought of okra as a necessary ingredient in gumbo. Generally I shied away from it because of its distinctive slimy texture. Recently, I sampled a Malaysian dish, a stir-fry with shrimp and okra, and found it tasty but the slime factor still kind of grossed me out.

So what to do with the big bag of purple okra? I have to admit, they were gorgeous to look at, but that didn't mean I wanted to eat purple slime either. And it was way too hot to make gumbo. So I let my meltingpot mind wander and came up with a delicious recipe instead. I made a shrimp and chicken curry with all that okra.

Basically I sauteed all the okra with onions and green pepper. Added curry powder and some extra spices, threw in chicken breast, cooked that, then added chicken broth and coconut milk, and then tossed in shrimp. Served it all over brown rice and it was delicious!!! Oh, and for a salad I made a cucumber and pineapple salad. So yummy and refreshing.

Now, I'm all about okra. If you cook it long enough the slime goes away and adds a nice thick texture to a curry, for example. My mom also gave me a recipe for okra fritters. I'm going to try those as soon as the heat index comes down, because who wants to smell fried anything in this weather?

I found this website all about okra and am happy to report that okra is also super chock full of nutrients too. And it's so multicultural! So, suffice it to say, okra will definitely be on the menu in this house from now on.

Do you have any okra recipes? Do you even eat okra? Why or why not? I'm listening.

Peace and Sweet Baby Feet.

Help, My Friends are Moving to China!

Hi Meltingpot Readers,

This weekend we're playing host to our dear friends who will be moving to China from the United States, next week!! Mom is Kenyan, Dad is Jewish American, and they have two adorable Mixie kids. But they're moving next week. I can't stand it. Dad got a great job and mom said, 'why not?' I am so excited for them, but a little sad too because our relationship is now going to depend on Skype. But on the other hand, the Kinky Gazpacho family now has a reason to plan a trip to China. Oh, and to learn a little Chinese.

But in the meantime, my friend is kind of freaking out. This move has happened really fast! So, I'm asking you dear readers, does anyone know of any good blogs, and/or online resources for Americans moving to/living in China? I think she'd really like to follow other people's stories who have done this before. Especially Mixie and/or Meltingpot families.

So, all of you expats, especially those who really made a radical move, please share your blog addresses or let us know where you go online for inspiration, a virtual shoulder to cry on etc. In the meantime, I'm trying to get my friend to start her own blog so we can follow the family's progress.

Happy Friday,

Peace!

The Meltingpot in Mourning

Hi Meltingpot Readers,

There has been a death in my family. My uncle died on Saturday. Yes, the day before Father's Day, leaving behind four children, one grandchild and a wife. I have been overwhelmed with sadness these last few days because I was not able to return home to say goodbye, to attend the funeral, nor to be there for my family members who I know are hurting even more than I. I couldn't go home because my doctor forbade such a long trip given my big ol' pregnant belly.

I cursed the fact that we live 14 hours from my family by car. I wondered why we choose to live away from our roots. I mourned alone. But instead of focusing on the negative, I decided I'd like to use this post to tell you about my uncle and his impact on my Meltingpot life.

First off, my uncle wasn't related to me by blood. In fact, he was one of those adults who adopted himself into our family. I think I was eight when we first met. My uncle was a friend of a friend, an architect who was going to help my parents restore the house they'd recently bought. He was White as was his wife and son, but he also had a Black daughter and he desperately wanted her to have Black friends. So this man quickly became more than an architect, and became our family friend. His daughter and I, being the same age, also quickly bonded. Turns out, his daughter wasn't just Black, she was an Alaskan Native and Black. So, thanks to my uncle, in my tiny Midwestern, monochromatic world, I now had an adopted friend, a mixed friend, a friend with a complicated past, and I began to see first hand the challenges of transracial adoption.

Then came divorce. My uncle divorced his wife. It was ugly and sad. As most divorces are. My uncle was hurting and he turned to my mother for help and counseling. (My mom is a therapist). My uncle and his daughter often ate dinner with us as he unburdened his soul. His daughter and I grew closer. At the end of his grieving period, my uncle officially declared himself my mother's 'other' brother. He adopted himself in and nobody challenged the notion. It was as if with his divorce, he shed his former life and became determined to start anew. He took his role as brother and uncle into this family very seriously as well. Almost like the destruction of his nuclear family made him more dedicated to preserving his position in his new family.

After awhile, my uncle married again. This time to a Colombian woman. She barely spoke English and they were passionately in love. (I don't know if I mentioned that my uncle was born in Holland and spoke several languages, including Spanish.) As a teenager at their wedding, a very Latin dominated wedding, I remember being thrilled at the idea of this cross-cultural pairing. When their children were born a few years later, a boy and then a girl, I was even more excited to watch them grow up bilingual and bicultural. Those children were taught to call my mother and all her sisters Auntie and we were their cousins. No questions asked. It cracks me up because they were so convinced we were all related by blood, they told people that they were half Black!

My uncle showed me how to live life to its fullest. He was a college professor who announced one day that he was taking a one-year position in Paris and taking his whole family with him! Oh the jealousy. His kids came home fluent in French. He married a second time, to a woman almost 20 years his junior, but for love. He traveled around the world several times, usually with his family in tow and taught his children to embrace diversity and new experiences. They are the greatest teenagers you'll ever meet. But I think, most importantly, he always, always, always had a smile and a funny story to share. Or a practical joke to play. Like the time when el esposo had only been in the country for only a few months and he called our house pretending to be Immigration and threatening my poor husband (who wasn't my husband at the time) with deportation. At the time, el esposo was freaked out, but now it's our funniest memory.

So, dear readers, thank you for listening. Now you know a little bit more about my Dutch uncle with the Black/Native Alaskan daughter and the Colombian wife and the mixie kids who inspired my own Meltingpot life. May he rest in peace.

Do you have a family member who inspires you? If you feel like sharing, I'm listening.

Peace!

The Color of My Children -- A Mother's Musing

Hello Meltingpot Readers,

How many of you have heard about the most recent story of the Ohio born twins, where one was Black and one was White? Didn't hear about it? Well, here's a story about it so you can get all caught up. The truth is, the multi-hued kid story always makes the news because it just seems soooo unusual, but for those of us in mixie marriages, not so much.

In fact, as we await the impending birth of baby number three in the kinky gazpacho household, we are already speculating what she will look like. But unlike those in "monoracial marriages," we're not just wondering if she'll have mommy's eyes or daddy's nose. We're wondering if she will be toasty brown like her eldest brother or as pale as her younger brother who has often been mistaken for White, Asian and/or the kid I'm babysitting for. And the hair. Oy vey, the hair. We're trying to guess just how curly it will be. Will they be tight, brown curls like the older kid or big, black, loose curls like the younger. Or will she surprise us with a whole new texture and color pattern all her own?

It's funny, when I was younger and imagined what my daughter might someday look like, I always envisioned a mini-me with chocolate brown skin, black kinky hair and a brilliant smile that would light up a room. Now, I have no idea how she will turn out. But that's kind of cool too. I mean, I already know she's a girl. I pray to God she's healthy. So the anticipation comes from imagining just how different she may look. Different from me, her father, and her brothers. But at the same time seeing what she does capture from my family genes and those from her Spanish family. Since my family carries the DNA of Black, White, and Native American ancestors and el esposo's people come from as far away as Morocco, Malta island and Europe, baby girl has a lot of looks to choose from.

So, Meltingpot readers. What does your family look like and how do you reconcile the differences between you all? Personally, I don't see my family as multi-hued, I just see my family. It's only when others point it out that I take note. And of course now as we wait for the wee one I can't help but wonder. But still, as soon as she gets here, she'll just be one more in the Kinky Gazpacho mix.

Let's hear your stories.

I'm listening.

Peace!

Links and Love to the People of Egypt

Hi Meltingpot Readers,

Sometimes I am just inspired and energized by the words, actions and passions of others. And sometimes, I think letting others speak is the best way to share.

Check out these bloggers who taste a lot like the Meltingpot:

Daily Dose of Diversity and Is That Your Child?. You've read their commentary here on the Meltingpot, but check out their daily musings and you won't be disappointed.

And for the people of Egypt -- even though I see a long road of struggle ahead of you -- what you have achieved deserves a celebration. So here's to you!



Peace!

Malaysia On My Mind

Meltingpot Readers,

I have a new friend. Turns out we both live in Philly. We went to the same college (although not at the same time). We both have two kids. We met actually when our kids were taking tennis lessons at the same school. Then we bumped into each other again at the music school where both of our older sons take lessons...on the same day! We knew we were obviously destined to be friends. But there's more. My new friend came to Philly to teach at Temple University. That's where I teach. But here's the part where we really bonded. My new friend is also married to a Spaniard! We have so much in common. So much to talk about. But did I mention my new friend is Malaysian?

Here's the thing. Prior to meeting my new best friend, I don't think I ever really thought about Malaysia. I didn't have any negative feeling or thoughts about the country, it just never passed my radar screen. I've never read books about Malaysia, seen any movies set in Malaysia, nor known any people of Malaysian descent. But it's funny how all of that can change just by meeting a single person.

I am now officially intrigued by this country that is truly a meltingpot of cultures, Chinese, Indian and Malay. Coincidentally, soon after meeting my new friend, I was taken to a Malaysian restaurant for a dinner party. The food was delicious and sparked my interest in learning even more about Malaysian culture and cuisine because throughout the evening I sampled dishes with seemingly distinctive African influences. I sampled a dish with okra and shrimp, sweet potatoes were also on the menu and dessert included a sweet red bean soup that also featured black-eyed peas. Hello!

In two weeks, my new friend and our very mixie families will be celebrating Chinese New Year together. She's taking us all to Chinatown and to her favorite Malaysian restaurant. I can't wait. In the meantime I'm trying to learn all I can about Malaysian culture. Not because I want to impress my friend but simply because I am now officially intrigued. Anybody have any good books and or movies to suggest?

I just love it that besides having a new friend (and el esposo loves my friend's esposo too which makes things even better) I get a chance to learn something new about the rest of the world. I get access to learning about an entirely new culture. This is why I love living in America's meltingpot. What about you? Have you ever found a friend from a completely different part of the world but you bonded instantly? What brought you together and what did you learn from the experience?

I'm listening.

Peace!

(Blog)Roll Call!

Hey Meltingpot Readers,

It's a new year, which makes me feel like it's time for change and updating. In two days I'll be changing my hairstyle...anyone care to guess what my new look is going to be? I'm also thinking --for the first time ever as I get closer to 40 -- about updating my style. I seriously need a wardrobe update that reflects my personal style and mission. Right now my look says, 'mommy throws on the same clothes she's been wearing since 1995' but now I'm ready to step it up and go for ethnic chic (see images above, discovered after googling 'ethnic chic' go figure!) crossed with comfy and not too expensive. If anyone has any suggestions that will help me achieve this look without having to throw out everything in my closest and start over again, I'm listening.

But it's not just my look that needs updating, my blog does too. And here's where you can help. I've been updating my blogroll over there on the right, but I'd love to get your suggestions of blogs that I should be reading for my daily dose of meltingpot news, views and reviews. If you know a blog or website that should be on my radar, please send me a link in the comments section. I do appreciate it.

Peace.

Would You Worship Holy Thugs?

Meltingpot Readers,

The other day I was in my car listening to the BBC world service when I heard a story about a new religion gaining popularity in Venezuela. The religion sounds like a version of Santeria, where adherents worship various saints and spirits, many of these spirits being dead Venezuelans of some popular appeal. Most notably, people are praying to and asking for protection from a group of dead gang members, known as the 'holy thugs.' Mothers are praying to the 'holy thugs' to keep an eye out for their young sons so they don't stray into gang life, and gang members are praying to the holy thugs for protection while they rob and assault people. Makes you go hmmm, right?

Here's a link to the BBC story, so you can hear it for yourself.

In some ways I get it, but in other ways, I'm left scratching my head. What do you think? Would you worship 'holy thugs' if violence was taking over your land?

I'm listening.

Peace.

A Black Man finds Judaism in Prison

Meltingpot readers,

On this last day of Hanukkah, I find myself craving potato pancakes and jelly donuts and wishing I were Jewish. Well, not really, but I do love the miracle story behind the holiday. And I love most any food fried in oil, but I digress.

Recently, I saw this New York Times articleabout the rapper, formerly known as Shyne, who has embraced orthodox Judaism. For those of you not up on the rap game, back in the late 1990s, Shyne was supposed to be the next big thing produced by Diddy, who of course, back then was still known as Puffy. Unfortunately, Shyne's career was stalled when he fired a gun in a crowded nightclub and subsequently served almost nine years in prison.

Because Shyne is a native of Belize, after serving his time here, he was deported and now cannot reenter the country without special permission. Interestingly, he's still making rap music, he has a new album coming out in the United States and his new name is Moses Levi and he lives in Jerusalem. What part of that story sounds odd to you? Do you have a hard time reconciling how a young Black man famous for rapping about the streets and the game, finds his salvation in the strictest form of Judaism? In prison no less? Yes, he converted under the tutelage of prison rabbis (but note, he felt the call to the faith before prison.) Aren't young Black men in prison supposed to become Muslim if they are going to go religious?

From the article in The Times:

"The science of Judaism” as Mr. Levi refers to it, has become his system for living, a lifeline that connects him to God and becoming a better human being. He sees no conflict fusing the hip-hop world with the life of a Torah-observant Jew.

Mr. Levi speaks in the style of the urban streets but combines his slang with Yiddish-accented Hebrew words and references to the “Chumash” (the bound version of the Torah, pronounced khoo-MASH) and “Halacha” (Jewish law, pronounced ha-la-KHAH).

As in: “There’s nothing in the Chumash that says I can’t drive a Lamborghini,” and “nothing in the Halacha about driving the cars I like, about the lifestyle I live.”

It seems that Shyne/Jamal/Moses finds great comfort in the rules of an Orthodox life. It centers him. He says, " ... you know what you have if you don’t have rules? You end up with a bunch of pills in your stomach. When you don’t know when to say when and no one tells you no, you go off the deep.”

I love this story in that shows how people, despite their racial/cultural/ethnic background can find salvation in faith traditions. That is a very powerful message. In the story, there doesn't seem to be any mention of the Orthodox community in Jerusalem shunning the new Mr. Moses Levi because of his race or his past history. I wonder if that is true? I also wonder what the rest of the prison population thought of Shyne's conversion? I wish him the best of luck and hope Judaism brings him peace.

(Note: I feel a tiny bit of connection to Shyne, because I sat in the courtroom every single day of his trial back when I was a reporter for Entertainment Weekly. I watched his mother and his legal team and his friends and family respond when he was sentenced and he seemed so young and I was pregnant and emotional and just remember thinking his life would now be over. So I'm happy to see he's found his way.)

Besides Sammy Davis Junior and Rebecca Walker, do you know any other Black Jewish folk? What has their walk been like? I'm listening.

Peace/ Shalom!

Burning Questions from The Meltingpot

Hi Meltingpot Readers,

Today is hump day. It's the first day of a new month. And it seems like the perfect time to get some of my most burning questions answered. Hopefully you can help.

1. Why does Jesse Jackson think he holds the authority to decide who is and isn't Black enough in this country? First it was President Barack Obama, and now he's decided CNN anchor, Soledad O'Brien doesn't count as an official member of the tribe.


2. December is National Buy a Book by a Black Author and Give it to Someone Not Black Month, now affectionately known as
NBABBABAAGITSNBM. So my question is, what books are you going to buy and who are you going to give them to? If you need suggestions, you can always check out NBABBABAAGITSNBM's founder, Carleen Brice's awesome website, where she's making suggestions for good books all month long. And there are plenty of giveaways too!

3. Is it just me, or has there been a surge of racist humor aimed at Indians on television these days? Between
the new NBC show Outsourced and those awful Metro PCS commercials, Indians seem to be the new punch line of pop culture humor. Why is that? Here's an article about Outsourced that discusses the issue and another article about the commercials. Apparently I'm not the only one concerned, but why do you suppose this is happening now?

4. I've always known that China isn't teaming with Black people and therefore the country may not be exactly enforcing the need for cultural sensitivity training when it comes to racism and offensive stereotypes. But did you know one of the best-selling brands of toothpaste in China is called "Darkie" and features a grinning caricature of a man in blackface on the box? What's worse, the company that makes the toothpaste is owned by Colgate. This story couldn't be made up. Do you think China has an obligation to retire the Darkie brand?

My Kind of People

Meltingpot Readers,

When I was a senior in college, one of my closest friends shocked the snot out of me when she informed our little rainbow coalition of friends that despite the fact that she'd only dated non-Korean boys in college, when it came time for marriage she was going to stick to her own kind. Back then I was still wearing my rainbow colored glasses and truly believed that if we all just inter-married and inter-mingled, we'd put an end to racism and bigotry. Oh, I was so naive. But still, I thought my friend was crazy for insisting that despite the fact she often found herself more attracted to men outside of the Asian tribe, she was going for the comfort of her familiar. I remember she said something like, "I don't want to have to explain my culture to anyone and I want my husband to be able to speak to my parents in their own language. It will just be easier."

And sure enough, several years later, after seriously dating an African-American man, my friend married a nice Korean boy and for the most part they are living happily ever after. But somehow I felt betrayed and confused by her choice. If she was happy with someone else, why was she choosing a boy to please her parents. It's taken me a while, but I'm now beginning to get it. It's not racism. It's not bigotry. It's not wrong. It's called comfort. And I don't think there is anything wrong with that. I'm starting to see now in my own life where comfort can definitely trump romance.

Did you know that my parents and el esposo's parents have never met? Well, that's not entirely true. El esposo's mother came to New York City right before we moved to Philadelphia. My parents flew in to meet her. They saw each other for about 45 minutes and their conversation went something like this.
"Hola."
"Hello."
"It's nice to meet you"
"Yes, Yes. Let's eat."
"Yes."

********************************************

Last night I spent the evening with a Book club that was mostly women "of a certain age," all of them Black. I was only supposed to stay for an hour, but that hour stretched into two hours easy. We talked about my book, Substitute Me, but we also talked about life. And hair. And love. And things that every woman talks about but there was a shared cultural understanding and language and nuance in the conversation that only happens in a room full of Black women. I drove home smiling and content even though there was a pile of work waiting for me at home. Those two hours were so uplifting. I laughed and relaxed and felt comfortable sharing my entire life story to a group of virtual strangers, who somehow didn't feel like strangers. And that's when it hit me that I enjoyed spending time with these women, because they were 'my kind of people.'

Now, here's the tricky part. By saying I enjoyed myself in a special kind of way because all of the women in the room were Black, am I excluding or insulting my non-Black friends? I know I could have an equally uplifting experience in a room full of non-Black women who were in the thirties and had all gone to Smith College, or had all married Spanish men, or who had two sons. Yes, it could be equally uplifting but it wouldn't be the same. How do we reconcile our desire to be clannish with the knowledge that being clannish inherently leaves others out of the game? I honestly don't think there's anything wrong with gathering with others like yourself. It doesn't need to be regulated or anything, but how do you ensure that you're not excluding or hurting other people?

You know I'm listening.

Peace.

Comic Books for a Diverse Audience

Meltingpot readers,

My boys love comic books. Thankfully, they are both avid readers. The older kid tore through the entire Harry Potter series in one summer. The little one reads everything from picture books to Captain Underpants (which I had to ban temporarily because he can't seem to stop talking about the evil villan Mr. Poopy Pants in the middle of class.) to the Children's Bible my mother gave him for Christmas a few years back. But hands down, their favorite thing to read is comics.

I've written here before about the dearth of comics featuring characters of color. I don't want to prevent the kids from reading about Superman unless he has a handsome Black sidekick, but I do want them to have the kind of hero worship experience of a hero that kind of looks like them. As far as my kids know, the only Black superheroes are The Green Lantern and Storm from The X-Men. However, according to Wikipedia there are far more.

Currently their favorite animated cartoons/superheroes to watch are Avatar, which are Asian-esque characters. I've watched a few of them and even bought a couple Avatar graphic novels for the older kid because I think the story lines are pretty cool. But since my boys literally devour books, I need to have more books at the ready. So, I was thrilled when somebody tipped me off to a comic/graphic novel publisher I've never heard of. It's called Bluewater Productions. Now, their newest title is a unauthorized comic biography of (wait for it) Beyonce but they also have a comic bio on Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor and Barack Obama among many others.

And the multicultural characters are not only relegated to non-fiction titles. They have a series called Violet Rose about a super-sleuth sixth grader, who happens to be a foster child. The titles are endless. Some might not be your cup of tea, but they truly seem to have something for everyone. I will definitely be checking them out and looking for some of their offerings at our local comic book store.

So do you have any favorite multi-culti comic book heroes or stories? Please share.

Peace!

Karate Mama!

Hi Meltingpot Readers,

Big news in the Kinky Gazpacho house. The older son just received his yellow belt in Karate this week. And now the little one has started. He balked at first, but as soon as he got his official Karate uniform, he was hooked. Now, it's my turn. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, yours truly is ready to enter the dojo. My first class is tomorrow.

I know, I'm the girl who gets all excited about stuff and then two minutes later, I'm starting something else. I admit it. When it comes to exercise, I am a major flake. But I have a secret to share. I LOVE martial arts. For real. Bet you didn't know that I have a green belt in Tae Kwon Do? It's true, I do. After college, I stumbled on to a Tae Kwon Do studio, run by a young, female, Afro-Canadian, Olympic champion. I fell in love with the forms, the workout got me in the best shape ever, and the atmosphere in that Brooklyn dojo was fantastic and really empowering.

I want that again. As it turns out, my kids' sensei is also a Black female, and she's fierce but friendly. As my boys say, "Sensei Pat is no joke." Well, I'm hoping Sensei Pat can kick my butt into shape and I can keep up with my karate kids. I'm so excited that we'll all be able to share this activity. And no, El Esposo does not do karate. He tried it once, but it wasn't for him. But that's okay. I'm kind of stoked that mom's the one doing this physical activity with the kids. El esposo does all the other physical stuff with them.

And there is actually another reason I'm entering the dojo. I'm working on my YA novel and my 15-year old female main character is going to fall in love with karate. She was a ballerina but karate saves her. So I need to strike up the love affair again within myself, so I can translate it vividly on to the page. So in some ways, even if I want to quit, I have to keep going because technically this is research.

So, just wondering. Any of you dear readers have a good martial arts story for me? I'd love to hear why you love it or any positive experiences you gleaned from the practice.

Have a great weekend! Ki-Ya!

Peace!

It's All Saints Day. Did You Build Your Altar?

Hi Meltingpot Readers,

Did you know that today is All Saint's Day? I went to a Dia De Los Muertos ceremony at our Unitarian church yesterday and part of the service included calling out the names of our deceased loved ones and adding their pictures to a table in the front of the sanctuary that was decorated with sweets, candles and flowers. It was a lovely celebration.

Of course this is not the first time I've taken part in a 'Day of the Dead' celebration, but the idea of paying homage to our ancestors has been tickling my mind for awhile now. And I admit, I'm a sucker for ritual and myth. While I was investigating the cultural traditions of Ghana I discovered that the ancestors who have passed are still highly regarded and remembered in everyday life there. I have a dear friend who keeps an altar in her bedroom for her father who died when she was a teen. Perhaps because many of my family members are dying now, I am feeling called to examine how I can keep their memory alive AND honor their contribution to my life. I also want my children to know the wonderful people who paved the way for their existence. I think having an altar in my home that serves as an active reminder of my relatives who have crossed over is a wonderful and comforting symbol of continuity and respect. What's more, I found out some more about my maternal grandmother whom I know very little about. I told my mother about the altar and asked what she thought I should add to honor her mother. "What kind of things did she like," I asked? I thought my mother might scoff at the idea, but instead she fell back into a memory and told me that my grandmother liked Coca-Cola in a bottle, circus peanuts, peppermints and candy orange slices. I never knew that. But now I do. And my children will too.

As soon as I'm done here at work today, I'm going on the hunt for circus peanuts. For my grandmother.

What about your Meltingpot readers. Do you have an altar in your home? Do you honor your ancestors in other ways? I found this article on Wikipedia about the practice of honoring the dead. It's a universal practice, expressed in different ways of course, but I love how almost every culture has special rituals and myths around their dead.

Okay I'm listening.

Peace!

Halloween Costumes for Brown Boys and Girls

Happy Almost Halloween,

So what are your kids going to be? My boys are dressing up as Robin Hood (the six-year old) and a Roman/Grecian gladiator/half-blood/demi-god (the nine-year old). They look so cute in their costumes, but I have to admit, we had to have a few conversations about race as it related to their choices. (sigh)

So, the older kid wanted to be Percy Jackson, as in Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief book series. We saw the movie and now he's read all the books. To top it off, he's studying Greek Myths at school. But his first thought was, I can't be Percy Jackson because I'm too dark. (double sigh).

I told him that yes, Percy Jackson himself was White but many gladiators were brown and black as they came from all over the world. He was fine with that. And honestly, this wasn't a big drawn out conversation fraught with tears and angst. But it did happen. And then the older child suggested I rip the patch with little White Peter Pan off little brother's costume, because well, little brother could be Peter Pan if people weren't reminded of that cartoon-ish White face.

So, I'm just curious. Do your kids of color feel the need to dress up as characters of color on Halloween? Do you parents try to suggest costumes that would be race neutral, like a princess or a race-car driver or a ninja? I honestly only started thinking about this this year, as my boys have gotten older and want to dress up as characters that they like/watch/read about. It sure was easier when my older son was a fireman, and the younger son was his pet dalmatian. Those were the days.

Enjoy Halloween Meltingpot readers. Don't eat too much candy!

Peace.

From Afro-Spanish to Afro-Mexican

Because I love a good Kinky Gazpacho story in any format, a friend sent me a link to this article about the plight of the Afro-Mexican population in Mexico. It's an interesting piece with some great photos.

Overall, the story points to the lack of awareness the whole world has of Mexicans of African descent and their subsequent impoverished existence in Mexico. Be honest, did you know there were Black Mexicans? If you are a regular reader of this blog, you do because I wrote about a photography exhibit that documented their lives a few years back. But even I admit, one doesn't hear a whole lot or see Black Mexicans in the media --at least in the US media. Anybody know different in Latin America. Is there any part of the world where Black Mexicans are getting love?

I'm listening.

Peace.