Thursday, October 12, 2017

Tattoos and Racism

Wondering what the above have in common?  Well, nothing.  Except they are two things I encountered in the last 5 days that I consider life changing.

Let me explain.  I do not like tattoos.  I never have.  95% of my family have them and I have just never been interested.  My dad and I have been the hold outs.....stay classy dad.  But, a few weeks ago God really laid a word on my heart.  And the word was multiply.  I have been so convicted that we can do great things, work hard, be kind, but if we die and there is no one who carries on what we began....what is the point?  The multiplication principle is pretty simple.  J. O. and I can foster for years, but what is the point if that ministry dies with us?

So, I mentioned this word to my friend Kellie and told her I had a picture of it tattooed on my wrist.  Then, she shared with me her vision of a tattoo but she hadn't wanted to tell me because she knew I thought they were dumb.  Now, there is one thing you should know about me.  When I get something in my head I do it.  Like right then.  So once I agreed on doing this, I just needed the free afternoon and a tattoo parlor.  And I found both on Wednesday afternoon......right before Wednesday night church.....  I wouldn't recommend that, but hey.  I am still employed so I consider it a win.

I went to this tattoo parlor alone and got this word on my wrist.  And I find it no coincidence that the "t" in the word looks like a cross.  Even though that wasn't the design.  But, I love it and I may want more in the future.  So sorry J.O.

That brings me to the racism portion.  I went to Branson last weekend for a retreat with other foster and adoptive moms.  Now, I like a lot of things but this ranks pretty close to the top.  To get to stay at a super nice resort, with people who think a small family is 4 kids, is the best.  And one of the best things they do is build in down time.  We get 3 hours of nothing on Saturday afternoon.  Now for our friends that know Kellie and I, they know we typically watch slightly inappropriate movies during this time.  You know.....movies that aren't PG.  But this year, the place had removed this option from our room so we were forced to do something else.  So we shopped.  And the place we went was awesome.  It was a stand alone shop with amazing shoes.  Rows and rows of shoes.  We quickly found several pairs and headed to the check out.  We paid for those amazing shoes and were about to leave when the topic turned a bit awkward.

The owner began to tell us how big Branson had gotten.  We were surprised and he continued.  He told us that his daughters 5th grade class had 13 classes.  We were surprised again.  So then he started in on what a safe town it was.  We were glad.  Then he told us it was because the class as a whole had only "2 black people".  This feels dirty to even type.  Then he said they were also lucky because the Hispanics had moved in to open restaurants and work.

Man....they were a lucky group these 'whites'.

And I would love to tell you I had a great comeback.  Something like "well, between our Hispanic and African American kids maybe we can help diversify this town" or even something simple like "wow, just because we are white doesn't mean we think this way."  Now, Kellie did say, "man that's sad."  And I shook my head and looked appalled but ultimately I had no words.  We left and both couldn't believe it.  We were shocked, saddened, and disgusted.

So I guess the point of this rambling blog is this.  How dare you.  How dare you think because I am white I share your racist views.  How dare you think because I am shopping in your stores I want to hear your opinion.  How dare you think your view is okay.

Until we decide to break the stereotypes on races, ethnicities, genders, and dare I say tattoos......God help us all.

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