Actually, I didn't learn that this week. I knew that I could be whatever I wanted to be. What I really learned is that I can choose not to be who I am. It is a confusing thing I may have to explain to my children one day with the hashtag #transracial.
For the last 22 years I have been trying to teach my children to be proud of who they are; the beautiful and talented creations that God made. I have encouraged them to reach into themselves and dream. To think the possibilities endless. I have encouraged the drawing of cartoons, the telling of stories, the bouncing of balls, the blowing against reeds, the testing of new recipes, and the bellowing of songs. What I have failed to encourage is the denial of self. I have failed to teach them to make changes to God's perfect creation. I have failed to tell them that sometimes God makes mistakes and they have every right to correct Him. I have failed to encourage them to turn their noses up against everything that they are for their own infinite knowledge and for the succession into what they feel is best.
Unfortunately, I have taught my children that their hair and their skin are beautiful. That their culture is theirs to embrace. I have taught them that we have a history embedded in a history and it is rich and dynamic and nothing to be ashamed of. I have taught them that they can unashamedly be all of who they are. I never told them to try to be anyone else.