My View of Racism and White Privilege as an Adoptive Dad

The term "white privilege" is new to me even though I have sat in on many meetings related to racism. I may have heard "white privilege" earlier this year, but I heard it clearly during a screening of a well-done documentary shown at a session during the annual North American Council on Adoptable Children (NACAC) conference in August 2010. The conference was in Hartford, Connecticut.

The documentary showed the impact on children of color who were adopted by white parents in Vermont. It opened with a positive view of adoption and took comments from the older children about their experience living in a state with few minorities. One of the children was a successful educator in her late 20s. She, and some of the others, spoke about being followed by the police while driving or followed by security while shopping in a store. As I listen to discussions on racism, the complaint often raised by minorities is how they're viewed suspiciously by police or others in authority.

My wife and I have adopted our four children out of foster care: 2 Caucasian, 1 Hispanic, 1 African-American. We also have had 2 African-American teenage boys as guardians.

Meanwhile, our one Caucasian daughter has an African-American boyfriend, our Caucasian son is good friends with a girl who is African-American and they've had a dating relationship. Our African-American daughter is seeing a man who is Hispanic.

Welcome to Southern California!

Our Hispanic son talked to me about the concept of white privilege. He attends a university that's known as a Christian university where chapel is mandatory. Two weeks in to his freshman year, he was on his way to chapel. He was wearing baggy sweats and was stopped by a security guard. The guard asked to see his identification; when our son couldn't produce it, the guard had him return to his dorm room and get it. He heard racial slurs from one of the resident assistants during the semester, too. He was friends with the RA, but he said that's how the resident assistant spoke.

I've heard similar stories from our one guardian.

So how does this apply to the concept of white privilege? In their mind, I'm not likely to be stopped by the police or a security guard mainly because I'm "white." During discussion of the adoption film, one of the African-American social workers brought up the fact the United States was founded by white males and therefore our system of government and justice is inherently racist. I spoke up and said the country was also founded on principles of freedom that made the founders grapple with racial issues.

Here is where I see my benefits from white privilege: in my early 20s, I was with a friend who spoke Spanish. We visited his uncle in San Diego and walked across the border into Tijuana. We took a bus, he fell asleep, and by the time I woke him we had and ridden into the slums where we got out and walked back to the border - stopping in the meantime to chat at some of the soda stands and buy some gum.

The next day, I drove to Santa Barbara with another friend. I was on my to visit friends of my parents and stay in their upscale condo. I do have the privilege of being able to cross from one realm of society in to another realm.

In part, I can see it's because of my race. But I also see it as being part of my faith and my desire to help others. A book that had a deep impact on my life while in junior high was The Cross and the Switchblade by David Wilkerson and his story of working in the slums of New York in the 1950s.

I've been comfortable among the poor and fairly comfortable among the rich. It also reflects how my parents raised me with an appreciation to welcome others.

Here's how I look at "white privilege" at this stage of my life: we have one guardian who barely graduated high school, yet has the promise of a technical career allowing him to make a solid income. I don't see he's held back either by his race or lack of education.

My own career and family struggles have been overwhelming the past few years. I can look at large numbers of minorities who don't have the same struggles.

Here's another concern I have over white privilege: while society talks about racism, especially those who work in the social services system, my concern is we won't understand how to help those children who truly cannot help themselves - not because of race, but because the abuse they suffered from drugs or alcohol during pregnancy, as infants, as toddlers or older was so severe it is debilitating.

The help abused children need is not a lecture or debate on race and white privilege. Instead, a deliberate investment must be made by parents and professionals together seeking out the spiritual, mental health, and educational resources to bring about healing.

Caucasians do need to make deliberate attempts to cross cultures in promoting understanding; minorities who are in positions of power and who are wronged by persons of authority should not lay blame on whites - especially white males today. In the end, my belief is the rich mixture of races in our country must work together to bring healing to the many children who live without a family.

It's a privilege we can all embrace.