Please Help Me, I Don't Want to Lose My Marbles

Wow! That's some jar of marbles.

I confess, as I sat watching the scene from the movie "Black or White," that's all I could think about.

Just look at those marbles.

Huh? You think I'm nuts, right? Perhaps I've lost my marbles? Maybe. Maybe not. Read on and I'll let you decide. Our social worker sported a sly smile, "Let's play a game."

A word of warning: never trust a social worker who wants to play a game. It's just code for I'm planning to teach you something in a sneaky way.

That Wednesday night, we all fell for it.

“Alright. Each couple needs to take a mason jar and a bag of marbles."

It was a motivated crowd. Everyone snatched up their supplies. "Good. Now, open your bags. What do you notice?”

A voice at the end of the table piped up. “Umm, we only have two kinds. Black or white.”

”Yes. You‘re correct. All of you only have black or white marbles.”

Very interesting. Just where was she taking us?

”Here we go. Put a marble in the jar for each member of your immediate family that lives in your home. White marbles represent caucasians and black marbles represent any other race.”

I looked nervously around the all white room and watched as white marbles bounced around in their jars. Our turn. One, two, three, four, five white marbles and one black marble. Sweet baby Lydia. “Now, add marbles for your neighbors on either side.”

Clink, clink, clink. Clyde and the Ohlendorfs. Three more white marbles in our jar. “Your dentist.”

White. White. A lovely husband/wife duo. “Your beautician.“

White. “Your pediatrician.”

My best friend, Holly. White. “Your mailman”

I was catching on and I yelled out before I could stop myself. ”Our UPS lady, Traci, she’s black. Does that count?” I was getting desperate. “That’s up to you.“

She always came in the front door and visited while she cooed over Lydia. You bet I was counting her. One black. One white for the mailman. “Your pastor.”

Our dear friend, Mark. Another white marble clunked in the jar. I think you’re probably catching on by now, too. By the end of the “game” we had a jar over half full of white marbles and two black ones. Just two. Our precious baby daughter and the kind UPS delivery lady. Two. The lesson our social worker was trying to teach each of us, parents who had or were planning to adopt a child of color, was blatantly obvious. We lived in a white world. And so would our child.

In that moment, I felt so ignorant. Not ignorant like stupid, because that’s not what ignorant means, ignorant like I just didn’t know. I didn’t know how isolated Lydia might feel in a completely, aside from Traci, white washed world. And I couldn’t just keep buying things online so Traci would stop by regularly. I felt sick to my stomach. I knew something had to change. On the two hour car ride home, my husband and I decided we needed to be intentional with our marbles. We started brainstorming ideas: find a black hairdresser for Lydia, attend events hosted by a predominantly black church in town, offer to babysit for a friend’s biracial granddaughter, invite our new friends over for dinner. Together we vowed to do better. We had to. For Lydia's sake and our own. At the same time, we didn’t want to lose any of our marbles. Those relationships were important to us, too. But, we had to find a way to create new relationships. Relationships that would help us and our daughter better understand the world we lived in. To do this, we needed more black marbles in our jar. So, maybe now you understand why when I watched the scene from the 2014 movie on Thursday night and I saw Kevin Costner's character open his home to his biracial granddaughter's black family for a pool party, all I could think about was his jar of marbles. He was the only caucasian person in the scene. About 25 black marbles and one lone white marble. Wow! That's some jar of marbles.

We first did this experiment in 2008. I do it mentally now from time to time. And in 2020, our jar looks a whole lot different. It’s a wonderful blend of family, friends and neighbors. I wouldn’t want it any other way. It’s important to note this change didn’t happen overnight. But, it did happen intentionally. We chose to keep our eyes, ears and hearts open to whatever opportunities God gave us. And he gave us a lot!

It's also important to note that people are not marbles. They are not all the same size and shape, just in different colors. People are individuals with different personalities and unique interests. With diverse desires, dreams and intentions. This may seem obvious, but I fear it's not. And it's important to understand.

Please understand. For everyone's safety and the common good. Listen.

I have struggled with writing this post for several days, but I finally decided it needed to be done. So, please, decide now, not to be offended by anything you read from this point on. I am only trying to speak the truth, in love, as best I know it.

And, please know, I have prayed about this extensively.

It is my desire that everyone would mentally evaluate their own jar of marbles. Black or white. See where you stand. And understand this important point, if your jar is nearly monochromatic, you, just like me, might be ignorant.

Not stupid. Just ignorant. Unaware of what you don't know.

And, as a result of that ignorance, some of your long held opinions or beliefs may be unintentionally flawed. Formed and shaped by the life you know, without taking into account anyone else's life experiences.

This is where relationship becomes exceedingly important. Because ignorance is overcome by investment of time, genuine care and honest conversation with others. People who have had a different life experience than you. People who can help you understand.

Again, this is what I encourage everyone to do. Diversify your jar of marbles. But be careful and intentional when you do.

You must remember these things. Not everyone wants to be your friend. Not everyone wants you to be their advocate. Not everyone cares about your well being.

Whether you are black or white, some people still want to hurt you. We live in a fallen world and not everyone has good intentions.

When my six foot tall, nearly 200 pound black sons visit certain parts of Indianapolis, where they grew up, they are often afraid. Fearful someone will rob them, hurt them or even kill them. In broad daylight. This is not a hyperbolic statement. It is just the truth.

I chose to post this now, because I know many people are desperate to do something in this tumultuous time in our country's history. People want to help. But desperation does not often lead to wisdom. And haphazardly seeking relationships is not wise. In fact, it could be dangerous.

Remember, be intentional. Brainstorm ways you could add marbles to your jar that make sense for you. Focus on quality relationships. Don't force anything; this is not genuine. And people know genuine when they see it.

Be honest, be vulnerable. Be on the lookout for ignorance and correct it. Be willing to invest time. Valuable things are rarely attained quickly or with little effort.

Don't get frustrated or be inpatient. But always be mindful of the opportunities God may be presenting to you.

Metaphorically speaking, I love all of my marbles. Really, I love all marbles, because they were created in the image of God. But, unfortunately, at this time in history, some marbles

are plagued by a little more inherent risk.

Please help me, I don't want to lose my marbles.