How Parenting Across Racial Lines Can Change You

E.J. Graff blogs about being a white woman parenting an African-American child in a world where African-American college student D.J. Henry was shot by a white police officer:
Did D.J. Henry die because he was black?

This one haunts me. I am a white woman raising an African-American child. Less than a mile from where we live, a white cop arrested professor Henry Louis Gates for trying to get into his own house. It brings tears to my eyes to think that in just a few years, some cop might look at my tall, strong, funny young man—the kid who likes “Another One Bites the Dust” and can’t get enough math—and might see not a person but a dangerous black kid, and arrest or shoot him. Or that such a thing could happen to one of his equally unique and beloved friends, the kids who tumble in and out of my house and yard and car, the kids I stare down when they get too rambunctious on my watch and who hug or high-five or fist-bump me when I pass them on the street. Parenting my eight-year-old has changed my racial identity, even more than having other black and biracial relatives has, in ways that are hard to describe (although others have tried). I was easily outraged about racial unfairness before, but now I have a nauseating fear about how easily my boy could be harmed for no other reason than the color of his skin.
Be sure to read the whole thing -- how middle-class privilege, which we sometimes rely on to protect our minority children, didn't help D.J. 

Has transracial parenting changed you?