When I was little, my mom used to read me a book by Holly Keller. The book was called Horace and it was about a little cheetah cub who was adopted by two tigers. Every night, Horace’s mom would tell Horace the story of his adoption. She told him he needed a new home, so they took him in. Even though Horace has spots and not stripes like them, he is not different in a bad way. She loves him just the same. This book meant a lot to me growing up because I too, was adopted.
My mom told me I was adopted from the very beginning… not that it was much of a secret because I was the only black one in the family. I grew up in a pretty “white” community for lack of a better term, but I would not have even realized that until later on. I can count the number of racial-related experiences I have had on one hand, but I do recall when I first learned in-depth about my Black history.
I was about 9, and some kids at school had started to make comments to me about “where I came from.” I came home and asked my mom why they said rude things about people with brown skin. My mom said we would talk later that night. She kept her word, and that night before bed she brought me a series of American Girl Doll books.
They were the books following the doll Addy Walker, which was the doll I had. She told me a little bit about the history that African American people had faced, and she told me about amazing people like Martin Luther King Jr., Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks, Sojourner Truth, and Madame C.J. Walker.
I had a lot of questions, but mostly I could not wrap my brain around why people would hate other people simply based off their skin color. I learned a lot those following months as we read the series of Addy. A little bit after my mom and I had started this, it was February which is national Black history month.
In class we had to pick a famous African American from US history and do a report on them. This assignment, along with what my mom was teaching me really opened my eyes to the importance of this half of my heritage.
Here I am 12 years later, and I feel as though I am still learning what Martin Luther King day means to me. I think back to my mom reading those books with me, and later on others, and how much I learned. I remember being angry, sad, and then feeling victorious when I heard how things began to change. From that point in my childhood forward, I knew what Martin Luther King Jr. had started a movement for equality and change. He influenced the lives of many to be brave and make a difference. Without him and many other incredible African American influencers, my life would look totally different.
I bi-racial. My birth mother was caucasion, and actually looked very similar to my mom which was a big reason why she chose her. My birth father was black. Not only would their relationship have not been accepted in society, but my being adopted by a white family would not have either. I think about how much has changed since Martin Luther King Jr. gave his “I have a Dream” speech, and how people today continue to make changes and follow in MLK’s steps.
While I have learned so much more beyond the American Girl Doll books, I still cherish those as I started to learn about that part of my history. As MLK day comes around, I reflect on how a man I never personally knew shaped my life and the lives of many others. He truly changed our world and paved the path of equality and for that I am truly grateful.
