Thoughts On America As The Future Mother Of A Non-White Baby
So I neither have children, nor am I pregnant. Despite these minor details, I do hope one day to make babies and race through my own familial bliss. But as I fantasize about what this life will, I realize that, given that most babies in the U.S. are not white, the life my children lead in this country will be drastically different from the life I lead — or the life any other generation here, for that matter.
What will it be like for my children to grow up among peers who look more like them? What will it be like to be a Latino living in a societal majority, even if it’s just in school? What will it feel like to not feel like you’re part of a minority? Just asking these questions gives me goose bumps.
Because, as I learned in my graduate program, being white (or part of the majority) has its advantages. I think the number one being that you’re considered “normal,” or “average,” or “typical,” which means that everyone else is “not normal” or “not average” or “atypical.” Of course, in the real world the words used are different: weird, stupid, not qualified. So, to think that my own children and their peers will be formed in a world more free of these types of stereotypes is quite exciting.
I start to wonder, will growing up being part of the majority — growing up as part of the “normal” — empower my children, make them feel stronger, give them a feeling of belonging? By the time they are my age, will they be tuning me out as I tell them how lucky they are to have experienced a reality in which they were not otherized, because they’ve been so absorbed by their own lives that they cannot imagine anything else?
Even as I ask myself these questions, I have to laugh at my own naïveté. I do not have children, so I’m sure that somewhere between changing diapers, finding daycare, figuring out discipline, education, feeding them and extracurricular activities I won’t have too much energy to invest in these more theoretical questions. But the real reason I’m laughing is that I realize, even as I ponder the coming fundamental shifts in race relations in this country and how that will affect my children, I sound just like every other generation ever has when talking to youth.
“When I was your age…”
Follow Sara Inés Calderón on Twitter @SaraChicaD
