The following conversation took place this morning while fixing my bed. It was monotone and matter-of-fact. No animosity at all, just a mother daughter talk.

Daughter: When is [insert my nephew’s name] coming home?

Me: He won’t be home this week because he left this morning for a 10 day safari in Tanzania Africa.

Daughter: Is that the country with all the black people, that don’t dress good?

Me: Yes, but they don’t dress like that anymore (referring to the movie Roots, that I thought would be educational for her to watch).

Daughter: Do white people still go over there and take them (said with the utmost concern for her cousin)?

Me: Not anymore.

Daughter: So they left them alone and don’t bother them anymore?

Me: Well not exactly, but they don’t steal them anymore.

Daughter: What do they do now?

Me: Now, they move in and take over their country and tell them what to do.

Daughter: So the white people are good now?

Me: Some of them.

I would love to see how this discussion would have gone with her father. However, she has never asked him race related questions and he seems oblivious to the fact that he has biracial children.

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