Anticipating our Firstborn Hybrid

We blended our colors

to paint your skin

We smoothed together

our faces-

lips first-

to find your fine features

Our spirits braided

together to help


form your soul

Bursting with prenatal hormones, I did a slight amount of poetic waxing during my 27 (ahh!) day hiatus at a coastal hospital awaiting our son.  Slight meaning more hours spent writing than sleeping, and for a bored pregnant woman that means a lot.  That city has bridges featured in all the local landscapes.  I took a bridge to get to my island home.  I took another arch to get to my university, and still another yet larger overpass to work.  I never tire of all the bridge travel though.  I love being surrounded by water.  My heart knows that place as home, submerged in peace.   So it makes total sense that I would give birth to a bridge-a smiling, immaculate bridge right in the middle of two stubborn people and two strong-willed families.

Even his name bridges our traditions and cultures together.  His first name has sacred meaning for us both and links together spiritual texts of the past with hypnotic lyrics of the present.  It’s Old Testament origins didn’t keep the unique name from re-appearing in the Hip Hop Hall of Fame.  After months of deliberations we both found a solid link.

Nazyr Israel Dancing

I am amazed at this little being who sees the world in watercolor, but doesn’t realize that our region may try to sting his vision.  He was born in the least progressive, most right-winged judgmental part of the United States: the deep South.  My tigress within roars at certain looks he gets in homogenous settings, but he is oblivious.   He is the same at toddler stage as he was when newborn, doling out a smile to the closest face.  His heart sings full of love and compassion for all people, aware that he has family every shade of skin.  A bridge daring old Southern stereotypes to forget that fear of “the other” and embrace the part of self seen in him, because he’s got a tinge of something for everyone.

Just like water or soul, my son has malleability that enables him to blend into any environment.  A natural mediator, he takes what many would consider a social stigma and transforms it into a gift that opens doors even in pre-kindergarden classrooms and playgroups.  These characteristics that nature wisely instills, when nurtured through loving and supportive parenting, can sustain him throughout obstacles during turbulent times.  Whether he is the lightest or darkest child on the playground, his heart and character outweigh all generational prejudice.  When friends ask how my son’s multiracial identity affects his childhood, I tell them it makes him a bridge between many vibrant cultures and lands but doesn’t slow him down a bit.


~ by yomawrites on July 18, 2012.

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