I was out to lunch with a friend of mine a couple months ago and she handed me a copy of Hip Mama magazine open to a page with a poem on it. She said “You’ve got to read this.” The poem was Black Enough by Catherine Anderson and when I read it I got chills. I immediately knew that I wanted to include it in Adoption Mosaic’s (then) upcoming newsletter -page 8.

Then I took a good look at her blog and, well…

You’ve got to read it.


“Mama C” is the head of a family of three who came together through an open domestic transracial infant adoption, and through donor assisted conception. Her son Sam, is African-American, her son Marcel, is biracial, and Mama C is white.

Mama C writes with a voice that is wholly and uniquely her own. Much of her blog is written in verse and is compelling, heartwarming, and very very real. There are so many amazing posts (read through her archives, you’ll be glad you did) but this one I particularly loved.

Color Recognition 101

It is the one color Sam can not identify.
Last October, spring and now.
This is the only color that escapes his otherwise
perfect
color recognition skills.
Brown.
I look at the assessment
and blink.
Parent teacher conference
in mid swing until:

Brown?

Numbers, no problem.
Ovals, triangles, squares
covered.
Motor skills off the charts.
Hand washing-
needs some attention.

Listening to messages is on the up and up,
and we’re making great choices in how we
talk to our friends.

It’s just, well the brown.

After bath tonight I asked him, what color I was wearing.

Brown he says.

And what color is your beautiful and deeply moisturized skin babe?

Black he says.

I see a creamy brown on your hands, and a creamy peach
on your palms I say, making little circles on his open hand
in mine.

No mom. I am black.

Like my eyebrows? I ask.

And mine he says.

So, then Sam, what does brown look like?

Like me-and you-and Marcel-don’t argue with me mom.
I know what I am talking about.

Color identification skills, are clearly in the eye of the
beholder and the being held.

Tighter.

Map out for me what has happened
at just shy of five so that a richly deep brown skinned
child when asked to identify the color brown

says

I don’t know what color that is.