Parenting, Privilege, and Pinot Noir

Hey Ya’ll,

I’m back in Florida for my brother’s engagement party and to celebrate the 4th of July or as my Tuskegee crew calls it, Tuskegee University’s birthday! So this newsletter will be a little different. No article this time—just a real moment I want to share.

RESOURCE:

Wine Down Turned Into a Wake up Call

My mom lives in the perfect neighborhood, sandwiched between two other moms around my age, with kids around my son’s age. Our kids are best friends so naturally we become friendly too.

Last night, we had an impromptu “wine down” Tuesday. One mom is a Black woman from Haiti. The other is a White-presenting woman from Trinidad (Trini). At some point, the Haitian mom started reminiscing about when they first met. She said:

“I heard you speak with an accent, and I thought you were mocking me, or trying to connect in a stereotypical way. I was disgusted.”

The Trini mom was stunned. She said:

“Wait, White women do that? Really? No… I didn’t know.”

The Haitian mom and I locked eyes and chuckled, “Yes girl, it happens all the time.” We started swapping stories—like people calling me “girl” the minute they meet me, thinking that’s a compliment or connection.

Then, out of nowhere, the Trini mom got quiet. She leaned in and asked:

“Can I ask something? What is this stuff about racism I keep hearing? I know it happened before, but I just don’t see it now. Can you help me understand?”

Now you know That Inclusion Lady wasn’t about to let that moment pass.

I got comfortable. Let the wine flow. And we went there.

We talked about history—Tulsa, Rosewood, Lake Lanier.
We talked about the present—Black families getting lowballed in home appraisals, the suspension rates of Black boys, and the woman who raised $700K after calling a 5-year-old the N-word.

Then we brought it home. . . We made that shit personal!

The Haitian mom shared how she’s constantly stereotyped—from her hair to her family structure. I opened up about the constant questioning I get. The exceptionalism. The paternalism. The exhausting dance of being “safe enough to listen to” but “different enough to interrogate.”

By the end, the Trini mom was wrecked. Mouth open. Eyes wide. Silence.

Then she asked:

“What can I do to make sure I’m not being offensive?”

She followed with:

“I teach my kids to treat everyone like a human.”

And I said:

“That’s a great start. But as they get older, teach them that not every human experiences life the same way. Help them stay curious, humble, and aware.”

It was one of the most heartfelt, honest conversations I’ve had in a while—where good intentions met hard truths, and real growth could happen.

REVELATION:

That night wasn’t about blame. It was about understanding.
It reminded me how powerful curiosity can be when it’s met with humility. But to anyone reading, here’s what I hope you take away:

• We were three middle-class moms, with three different national orgins but our experiences were shaped more by skin than salary.

• Socioeconomic status doesn’t shield you from racism.

• Just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not happening.

• Awareness of someone else’s experience starts with confronting your own privilege.

• Safe spaces for brave conversations are where real transformation lives.

REFLECTION:

• What’s a lived experience I know the least about, and what discomfort am I willing to face to truly understand it?

• When was the last time I was genuinely surprised by someone else's truth—and how did I respond?