Is your person white?

I have never lived in a place where the color of your skin is brought up as much as it is in South Florida. Almost daily, I hear comments about this topic. Because I have more of an "olive" complexion, when I first moved down here, my children and youth continuously asked me the infamous question of, "what are you?" I was obviously very thrown off by the question. I liked to thrown them off just as much by answering that I was "Texan." They didn't appreciate my humor.

Now that it was been over a year since I have made the move to South Florida, I don't usually notice when kids start talking about the color of someone's skin. Words like "black" and "white," which used to shock my painfully politically correct upbringing, now tend to sound common place. The bell no longer goes off in my head when I hear a young child ask someone what color they are.

Today, however, I couldn't help but laugh when I watched two of my fifth grade girls play "Guess Who?" Every time they started a new game, the very first question out of either of their mouths was, "Is your person white?" I promise, I almost lost it the first time I watched their game. However, to be fair, the next thought that ran through my head was, "What a good strategy, I wish I had used it." Because, honestly, if the answer to the question is, "no," you have basically won the game considering there are only approximately five people of race that is questionably something other than "white." Also, to be fair, I'm pretty sure they have introduced new players into the game since I was a child.

However, watching the contemporary minds of two eleven year old girls in South Florida happened to make me pause today for thought.

A Prayer for Those Who Have TOO MUCH.

To my brothers and sisters in developing countries:

While I was deciding which oat bran cereal to eat this morning, you were searching the ground for leftover grains from the passing wheat truck.

While I was jogging at the health center, you were working in the wealthy landowner's fields under a scorching sun.

While I was choosing between diet and regular soda, your parched lips were yearning for a touch of water.

While I complained about the poor service in a gourmet restaurant, you were gratefully receiving a bowl of rice.

While I poured my "fresh and better" detergent in the washing machine, you stood in the river with your bundle of clothes.

While I watched the evening news on my wide screen television set, you were being terrorized and taunted by a dictatorship government.

While I read the newspaper and drank my morning cup of steaming coffee, you walked the dusty, hot miles to the tiny, crowded schoolroom to try to learn how to read.

While I scanned the ads for a bargain on an extra piece of clothing, you woke up and put on the same shirt and pants that you have worn for many months.

While I built a 5 bedroom house for the three of us, your family of 10 found shelter in a one-room hut.

While I went to church last Sunday and felt more than slightly bored, you looked out upon the earth and those around you and felt gratitude to God for being alive for one more day.

My brothers and sisters, forgive me for my arrogance and my indifference. Forgive me for my greed of always wanting newer, bigger, and better things. Forgive me for not doing my part to change the unjust systems that keep you suffering and impoverished. I offer you my promise to become more aware of your situation and to change my lifestyle as I work for transformation of our world.

-Written by Servite Sr. Joyce Rupp, 1997, upon returning from Guatemala and Liberia

What I Need To Hear.

"Where can I go from your Spirit?

Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast."

-Psalm 139: 7-10