San Diego, CA
As an Indian/White mother to my three biological children of color, strangers find no issue asking me or them if they are adopted. Not one inherited my white skin.
I wish one of them looked more white. If they did, I wouldn’t have to worry about them simply existing in the US as a black person, having the police called on them for doing normal everyday things that Americans do, or having strangers judge them first by their skin. I wouldn’t have to worry about them being overlooked or mistreated simply based on the beautiful color of their skin. If even one of my children had received my likeness, my sweet, unearned privilege that comes from my white skin, then maybe I could spend one moment not worrying about the ugliness of this world and how it receives them.