Beautiful

The Color of Water: A Black Man's Tribute to His White Mother

I have a feeling this synopsis/recommendation will be rambling and convoluted. I apologize.

My mother sends me books regularly. I buy books regularly. I have a stack of about 20 books I want to read and another 20 that have been recommended but I don't see why. I will read them all. In my last package from my folks was this book. Complete with a Half Priced Books clearance price tag of $2.00, I was certain that this was going in the pile of books that I read out of obligation. After my frustration with Obama's propaganda he had the nerve to sell as a book, I picked up this book. Even an obligation book had to be less frustrating.

From page one I identified. James McBride writes of an ethnic struggle he faced when he realized that his family was different. I remember growing up in a small town barely north of the Mason-Dixon line in Missouri. I remember my brother, nine years older than me, being popular because of his athletic prowess. I remember knowing where the Klan member lived. I don't remember understanding what that meant besides fear. My brother didn't look like me and certainly we had a very different bone structure. He was taller than our folks at age 15. And then my dad adopted my brother. I had recently seen an episode of Punky Brewster. One of the children at the orphanage had been adopted and had to move away. I cried for a whole day before Guy finally figured out why I was upset. That was how I learned the term "biological father". I still didn't understand. I have never seen our dad as my dad. I have never seen Guy as a half brother.

I don't think I struggled with my view of my family life. But I know I struggled with the view that others had with my family life. I can relate to McBride's view of his mother. The conversations and incidents that I read as McBride's experiences with his mother reminded me of conversations and incidents in our family's life. The strength of his mother reminds me of the strength of my mother. The crazy resolve of his mother is identical to my mother's. And how surprising: both mothers can say that all of their children are beautiful and successful. Ironic: both mothers went to school as "non-traditional" students to become social workers.

Thank you, James McBride. You have shared with me a beautiful memoir.