The Hubs is black (I am pretty sure I have mentioned this before). Z refers to him as brown. In fact, everyone in the world is either pink or brown. It's something that she discovered before she turned 2 and how she identifies herself with the world around her.
Most of the time, she describes herself as pink, however, in the last few
Which brings us to yesterday. We drove over to the construction site that the Hubs is working at to bring them cool drinks so that they would not
Z ran off to play with some other small children (away from the construction materials) as I delivered the cool treats. As I approached the group of children, I hear the following conversation.
Little Girl: "Hey, girl. You mixed?"
Z: "No, I am Z."
I smiled inside. I know that in my three year old's mind she thought that the girl was asking her name, I know that the girl was equally confused by her response, but I love my daughter's innocence. I love that she does not understand these harsh and cruel terms. I love that she does not categorize herself in the ways that society will attempt to, that she will never fit into a box.
That no matter the color of her skin, the environment that she is in or the people that she is around - she is just Z.
That's pretty great to me.