Momma Bear

Although I am sure there have been many, there are only three memorable "Momma Bear" moments that I have had. I hate confrontation and usually avoid it at all costs, but sometimes, especially when it comes to my kiddos, the momma bear just bursts out, leaving me shaking and crying afterwards.

One occasion happened when we were at a playground at the zoo. There was a rock climbing wall of some sort, and the playground was very busy. Collin (3 or 4 yrs at the time) was standing on top of a wall where you could climb down somehow through a little opening. Like I said, it was very busy, and a child came up behind him who was quite anxious to climb through that opening. It was a big drop, or so it seemed to my mommy eyes. Suddenly, something overtook my body and voice, and I was up saying, "Don't push him!" The poor little boy I spoke to burst into tears. I felt horrible and embarrassed the rest of my family. I am telling you though, the force overtook me. I foresaw a danger to my son and some kind of protective thing welled up within me.

Another occasion occurred when Mallory was playing soccer. For her first few seasons, we avoided the local rec leagues, because I was not ready for such competition. She spent her first few seasons playing for church leagues. John grew up on soccer, as a goalie. To Mallory's excitement and pride, she was being put in goal often. I was a wreck every time she was in goal--so much pressure to put on one child (and her mom!) At one game, there were two other mom's from our team standing close to me having dialogue about the game. Suddenly, the ball was in Mallory's hands as she stopped the other team from scoring! She then threw the ball right to the middle towards the opposing team, making it easy for them to score. The two ladies standing by were very excited, and their voice levels were louder. One said, "Why did she do that?!" The other replied, "Because she doesn't know what she is doing!" These ladies were not happy! I had been sitting in a chair with knots in my stomach as always when Mallory was playing goalie. Well, that feeling, that force overcame me again. Before I knew what was happening, I was up and heading towards these ladies, imploring them to be quiet! I said, "Can you hush? That is my daughter you are talking about! We chose a church league for a reason, and we should be encouraging each other, especially our own team!" I felt as if I would throw up and probably had the shakes for an hour after this!

I had a chance to be a momma bear yesterday. I am not sure whether I succeeded or not. This momma bear story involves Kami, hair, and probably racial issues too. Needless to say, this incident was much more complicated and emotional than the above mentioned incidents, and it left me shaken, heart-broken, and angry. I was given pictures of Kami from a few months before I even met her. They are pictures that I don't share too readily. They are hers and part of her history...she can decide how and if she wants to share them. She is bald in these first pictures and obviously sick. There is a set of pictures that came from our adoption agency after we had accepted Kami's referral. In these pictures she is looking much healthier and with some thin sparse hair that had lots of orange/red in it. I was told from a missionary friend that the red tint probably indicated malnourishment (no surprise to us.) When we went to bring Kami home, we found her shaved bald because of a fungal condition on her scalp. Again, no surprise and no huge deal. We brought her home and her hair began growing in, very patchy and very tightly coiled. I have readily sought advice and been given much friendly, but unsolicited advice. It has been good to hear this advice. I eat it up. I have poured over the internet for hours researching African American hair types, products, and styles. I have learned lots, some through success and some through trial and error. That is okay. My main goal, has been to make hair and hair time a positive experience for Kami and myself. Above all, my main goal has been to help her understand that her natural, tightly coiled hair is BEAUTIFUL!!! I have been told that her hair is coarse, that it is brittle, that I should put it in a protective style, that I should not put in in a protective style until it grows more, etc. I have been introduced to sleeping scarves, satin pillowcases, a myriad of oils. I have read about people who use petroleum and mineral oil and people who refuse to use petroleum, mineral oil, and sulfates on their hair. I have learned about how her hair is not to be washed too often and terms that were foreign to me before such as cowash and prepoo. I could go on and on! I have also put into practice and spent precious pennies on most every bit of advice given. Some have worked and some haven't. I failed to follow the advice of wearing a swim cap during pool time. I read and thought rinsing would do the trick. For us, this wasn't the best plan, and I will do better next summer. Kami's hair has filled in and grown. It is not long, but her curls, when stretched out, will surprise you with how much longer her hair is than it appears. Bottom line is, I am really the only one that has my hands in Kami's hair each day to asses what is working and what isn't working. I feel a huge responsibility as her mom to speak into her self image by telling her that she is black and beautiful and that her hair is strong and her coils and kinks are gorgeous. I have done my research and taken my role as her mom very seriously, knowing that in Heaven our skin color and hair types won't matter, but that here in our broken world, unfortunately, it does to many. I am soooo living for the day when we are in Heaven and I can be at peace, away from the labels that we have put on people that will NOT matter in Heaven in the presence of Jesus.

I write the rest of this with my guard up and very hesitantly. I do NOT want to open a can of worms that makes people angry or divided. I just want people to be aware. I want to process through this myself in a healthy, Christ-honoring way. I want to be better prepared to handle future situations because similar situations will probably occur. When Kami was in the care of some trusted people, an African American woman removed her bow and questioned those who were caring for Kami about Kami's hair and me and my care of her. Kami is often mistaken for a boy. For this reason, and because I do love bows, I have chosen to put bows in her hair! It is my business, I am her mother! Later in the day, I encountered this same woman. I was going over to say hello to Kami and give her some momma lovin' when I heard someone ask me if I was her mother. I replied yes, and asked Kami where her bow was. The woman told me I needed some assistance. I began laughing, and I agreed. I have had some good laughs with other African American's about my need for assistance with Kami's hair. Like I said, I have been blessed to not encounter anger and hatefulness until this point. The conversation continued, but with NO smile or NO hint of friendliness from the woman telling me repeatedly that I need some assistance. She went on to say that taking care of a black girl's hair is crucial to her self esteem. I agreed with her, though this did not soften her countenance or tone towards me. She then told me that it is necessary to fix my child's hair everyday and that it will not be pleasant for the child and will probably make her cry, but that is okay and necessary. I informed her that I do fix Kami's hair everyday. (Obviously the way she fixes hair and the way I fix it do differ!) Her surprised reply, "Oh, really?" At this point, my stomach began to hurt, and (yes, I can be slow) I realized this was not a pleasant conversation any longer and more importantly not one that needed to take place in front of my precious baby girl! I walked away...and then it hit. You know when you are suddenly hit with an urge to cry but you are surprised by that need and you don't want to cry in front of the whole world?! So I spoke to someone about what was going on and escaped to cry and briefly deal with this slew of emotions that had taken me by surprise.

I am not sure what all I felt. This was about much more than Kami's hair. Perhaps I am wrong, but this was a judgement call unleashed on me for being a white woman to a black child. There, I said it, and now I feel sick to my stomach. If that is not what it was about, then I apologize and ask forgiveness. I don't want it to be about that! This was a judgement passed on me without knowing me, without knowing my heart and my efforts, without knowing my deep, deep love for this miracle in my life, and without knowing Kami's history. Advice, I will gladly listen to: hatefulness, I will not tolerate! Later in the day, the above mentioned woman came to me to finally smile and introduce herself. She then asked if I wanted her phone number. I took a deep breath and told her, "No, thank you." I calmly shared with her that her previous comments had offended and hurt me. She again offered her phone number, saying that she would be glad to offer assistance. I politley informed her that I had assistance. Her reply, in that surprised tone, "Really?" This momma bear told her that it was exactly that questioning tone that offended me so much because she did not know me or know anything about us or our circumstances and so she should not make judgements about me and/or Kami's hair. Again, she offered her number and again I declined. And again, I smiled on the outside while shaking like a leaf on the inside.

I am thankful and honored to be given the role of being Momma to my three precious children. I am thankful for the protective spirit that our creator has for us and that we, therefore, have for our own children. So watch out world! You don't want to stir up the "Momma Bear!"