It’s happened more times than I can count since T-man came home, usually with someone I’ve just met – at the grocery store or the library, lying by the pool or standing in line at the post office.
For all intents and purposes we are total strangers, but you feel perfectly at ease commenting first and foremost on my son’s size and skin color. I can’t help but wonder: does it matter whether he’s from Africa or the inner city? Would either origin make you more comfortable with this big, black boy?
You might think you’re making polite conversation, but your words carry so much more weight than you realize. It doesn’t take dropping the N word for me to worry about the assumptions people in the world make about my son.