In the seven months that I've been living in Texas, nothing really all that unusual has happened. Despite me and my family's expectations, nothing seemed to be any different about it than New York. The people seem to be the same, work seems to be the same, and the closed-minded stupidity seems to be the exact same. Honestly, if Texas can't subvert my expectations, than I don't think anywhere in the US can.
My name is Phil Raynor. Though I lived in New York for about ten years before moving to Texas, I was actually born and raised in Michigan. My life in Michigan was...average. Not bad, not good, not exciting, not interesting, not really anything. It was just sort of...there. I had a fairly calm childhood. My parents were both very loving to me and my four siblings. I had two very good friends as a child who I still remain in contact today. If I wrote an autobiography, it would be the dullest biography ever written.
My wife Abigail and I first met when we were in college and have now been married for almost thirteen years. Up until maybe about three years ago, the closed-minded stupidity that I mentioned a moment ago didn't exist. Why would there be? We were just a normal average couple. We both were kind, hard-working (I work as a dentist while Abigail works as a lawyer) and lived in a very decent home. There shouldn't be any reason to be judged. Not in the twenty-first century at least.
That is, until we had children.
There were no problems with our first two children. Our nine-year-old daughter Sabrina and our six-year-old son Brandon look exactly like us. But after we had our first two children, Abigail and I decided it was about time to look into adoption. We had actually thought about adopting long before either of our biological children were born. It wasn't until after Brandon was born that we began to get serious with the adoption plan. When Brandon was about three years old, we were matched with a beautiful little three-year-old girl. Rosie is now six years old and has really long gorgeous wavy brown hair that just about everyone adores.
But it didn't end there. Just a year later, we received another match. A one-year-old little boy with dirty blond hair came into our lives. Seth is now three years old and is a MAJOR daddy's boy.
Then finally, just about a year and a half ago, Abigail and I became the parents of a baby girl named Bailey. Bailey was born to a single teenage mother who wanted her daughter to be raised in a two-parent home, so Abigail and I decided to step in and provide little Bailey with that two-parent home. We are still in close contact with Bailey's mother and send her pictures every so often. Bailey is now nineteen months old, has long light blonde hair, and has the most precious smile ever.
So many people respect my wife and I for deciding to provide a home for three children, but others always decide to look at us like what we're doing is some sort of freak of nature. For one reason and one reason only. Abigail and I are both black and our adopted children are all white.
If I had a dollar for all the odd stares that Abigail and I have received when out in public with our adopted children, I'd probably already be able to afford to put all of my kids in college. And probably a new apartment for every single one of them. And why would there not be? Of course it's going to raise eyebrows when a black couple is seen walking in public with white children. Now when our biological kids are with as well, it doesn't seem to draw as many stares. There's been quite a few times where I've been with just Sabrina, Brandon, and Rosie and people seem to assume that Rosie is just a friend. But there have also been times where we are just alone with Rosie or alone with the toddlers and that's where people really began to grow skeptical. There's been quite a few times where people have followed behind us just to make sure we aren't kidnappers. Just a month ago, the police were called on me because people saw me carrying Seth and Bailey in my arms when I took them to the mall to get haircuts. Thankfully, Seth and Bailey both crying and clutching me was enough to prove that I was their father.
Yes, Abigail and I both knew this was all going to happen the instant we realized we were being matched with a white child. But we didn't care. We refused to let our race stop us from giving this child a home. And I'm sure that most people would understand we made the right choice if they actually knew our story. But when people see us in public, they don't automatically assume "maybe the children are adopted," their mind's just immediately jump to "KIDNAPPERS!" Because that's how messed up this world has gotten.
Just a tiny, tiny part of me hoped that moving to Texas would make things a little better. I have no idea what I was thinking. For the record, we moved to Texas because I was offered a better job down here, not just to escape the closed-minded bigotry. Though that would have been pretty nice. Honestly, I don't think there's any possible way to escape the bigotry. It's just something that me and Abigail have no choice but to just suck up and deal with. But whatever, at least we were allowed to take in these three beautiful children. And no matter how much people love to draw stares, it won't change the fact that they're happy and being raised in a loving home. So take your staring eyeballs and go jump off the highest cliff in the world.
Besides, the closed-minded bigotry isn't even close to the worst treatment that I've received in the past seven months or three years. At least none of these closed-minded people have actually tried to attack me.
And that's what brings me to this particular evening.
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