Who is adopted, mommy?

Who Is Adopted, Mommy?

I don't see colors. Don't get me wrong; I am not color blind;  I simply have been raised in a family that helped me overlook this, I see people, their characters, their strengths, and weaknesses.

If I hear someone making a comment about diversity, I assume it is about 'diversity' and not color.

When my brother came home one day and said, "Hey, my new friends say I'm being raised by 'Honkies' and not acting like a brother." I realized that racism was a two-way street. I was a 'Honkie, ' and reduced to the color of my skin and my brother was having an identity crisis because of the color of his skin.

My Mom used to read us a book called "What color is love" by Joan Walsh Anglund. My favorite passage from this childhood story is:

Colors are important because they make our world beautiful, but they are not as important as how we feel... 
or what we think ...
or what we do.
Colors are "outside" things and feelings are "inside" things.

When we think of diversity, we should think of "inside" things; of different opinions, ideas, cultures, beliefs, but not the color of one's eyes, their height or the color of their skin.

My eldest daughter looked at a family picture when she was a little girl,  and then at me, "Who is adopted, Mommy?"

I smiled and thought,  now I could be worried about her intelligence but I know she is smart. I chose to smile. She is just like me; she has a form of color blindness that too few have. 

—Allison Ochs Social Worker M.S.W. , Coach, Expat, Mother of three, Wife