Black Like Me.

“I am black,” announced Peanut at the table. Our friends Bill and Liz are over having dinner with us.
“Black looks like this.” Liz says as she points to the lid on the salad dressing. “Do you look like this?”
Peanut pauses and looks around. “No, I am black like this”. She points to another lid that is a dark brown.

I love that little cracker.

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When I walked into Baby P’s room yesterday, I saw Miss Donna waiting in the rocking chair like I always do. She had the gospel music on and was sipping her coffee. Miss Donna is an older African-American lady. She strikes me as a traditional sort of person. She is married with grandchildren. She always looks nice with nice clothes and makeup. I asked about the election and her face beamed. She was very proud. She stayed up late to see Obama’s speech. She kept using the word historic.

I also spoke with Peanut’s teacher about it. She was telling me how she tried to stay up but fell asleep and missed Obama’s speech. She is about 4 months pregnant so staying awake is hard. She said her sister called and said “what you missed the most important day for…” and she cut herself off.

I will never understand what it is like to be African-American and see an African-American in the White House. I felt a little sad that Peanut’s teacher couldn’t spill the beans and tell me all about it.

I don’t think about Obama being African-American. I don’t really think much about him being half white. I do see him being like me in that he was a community organizer, an idealist. Although that may not be historic, it does make me proud.