And I quote…

Not only is this blog worthy it may very well be the event of the week ok….month.

Part of my work as a paralegal is to go down to the courthouse and drop off various documents to judges. One of the attorneys in the firm forgot a file on Monday morning and I had it run it down to her. I decided since I was already downtown that I would check up on some paperwork I had left to be signed by a judge last week forgetting that Monday morning is his arraignment day.

I am completely unaware as I open the door to the judges’ chambers and BAM! I’ve walked into a room full of men in orange county issued jumpsuits. You can’t just back out of this, you’re already there and the deputies are looking at me now. I explain why I am there and go ahead through the room as gracefully as possible saying excuse me politely as I wind through the orange sea. Halfway through the room distance I hear a “Hey Mami” which was followed by the kinds of ohhhs that I haven’t heard since a cat call in middle school. I turn and smile and continue on my way. Yah for options!!!

This is not the most entertaining part of my morning though.

After retrieving my paperwork and finding my way back to the solid marble shores of the courthouse annex, I begin to wind my way down the stairs when I meet a…..umm…..seasoned, toothless female on her cellphone. Just as I am almost out of earshot of the woman, I get to catch her blurt out this gem, that I will never forget, and I quote,

“If he ain’t good enough to make bail, he ain’t good enough to make it with my pussy.”

Change

Today as I was driving my son to school we began to talk about inauguration day. They have been talking about it at school and he has been very excited and engaged in politics since the election. That in and of itself has been pretty amusing. Really, hearing political views from your seven year old is pretty humbling and surprising simple and logical.

But back to today, in the car, as we were waiting for the bus, my son began to tell me that today was important because Barack Obama was our first African-American President. I told him he was right and it was very important day for our country. We sat for another moment, before he said “Mom, what does African-American mean?

I sat in shock for a moment as I realized that my son didn’t understand that there ever was a difference where skin colors where concerned.

I explained that there had never been a black President before.

Another moment passed and then he asked, “Why not?

Good question, kid. See how simple this is?

And for some reason, I just got an overwhelming sense of pride in my son, in myself, in our generation, just in the realization that we are moving forward to a time where our children really don’t notice a difference in skin color and that we all can  move foward towards a common goal as the human race.

We’ll probably get a lot more accomplished.