She then began asking about possible color combinations. A white and black person can have: white, black, brown, or ginger colored children. She was a little more confused than when we started. I explained to her that skin color is an indicator of ethnicity. Blank Stare.
I explained that looking at someone’s skin color can help you determine where their ancestors came from, but we are all Americans. I explained that I am Italian; therefore my skin is a little more olive in color. Audrey looked at me in utter shock and said, I thought we were African American. First off she said that loudly, and secondly WHAT!!!!
I tried to explain to her that African Americans are usually black, but as stated previously they can be any color. (I am little freaked out I am losing control of a politically incorrect nightmare conversation and I just know at any minute she is going to start asking other people questions.) She then asked, “If I am not an African American and I don’t know who they are, how can I thank them for being able to sit on the bus.” Again I say WHAT!!! Audrey has a collection of books on Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, Ruby Bridges, etc. She thinks those books are about her and her people. She is suddenly studying faces, looking for an African American to thank for her civil Rights.
I tried to reign the conversation back in by reminding her that we are Italian, Our ancestors, My Great Grandparents came to America from Italy and we are Italian Americans, but mostly just American. She asked about my olive skin and why Morgan, her sister, is a ginger. I explained that Genetics determines a person’s color. I explained that I am not the best example of olive skin because as you get older your skin loses its ability to tan in the sun.
I was feeling like an old shriveled gray olive with age spots and an occasionally leaky pit.
Audrey said, “You mean one day I will be as white as Morgan?”
I said probably.
She said, “How long do I have until I can’t look Like Mandisa anymore?”
For those of you that don’t know Mandisa is a popular African American Christian singer. Audrey wanted to be Mandisa one year for Halloween; I had to explain that I could not put makeup and a wig on her to make her look like Mandisa. I explained to her then it would be offensive to some people. It never occurred to me she thought she could tan her way to black.
I explained that she could only become more and more brown, but never black. She was crushed. She asked me if she stayed out in the sun to long if she would look like the orange ladies. Of course she asked this question as we passed an orange woman, and Audrey was eyeballing her all crazy.
And then I said the, can’t take back, crazy thing to say to an autistic hypochondriac. If you stay in the sun that long you can get skin cancer, it is better to stay the color God made you. She begins to panic about dying from skin cancer. She wants to know if she can make it back to the car without the sun touching her. I start talking about sun block and prolonged exposure.
We have finally reached the checkout; it has been an hour of stressful, shocking conversation. Thankfully, her attention is drawn by the lottery machine at the checkout. She found some discarded lottery cards on the floor and bummed money from a lady in line to finish scratching them. I did not care anymore, I was ready to take my old grey wrinkled self home.