A Minority in my own Family.

It happens without warning.  It can't be helped. I fought it at first. It was an uphill battle but in the end, I surrendered. I quit. I don't like it and hate admitting it.  But I realized this day was going to come no matter how hard I tried to avoid it.

I turned into my mother. It's OK.  I can admit it.  It's a love/hate relationship with myself.  I was going to be different, be a better version of her, be a new-age mom, cooler, calmer, more fun, more understanding, more patient.  But then I realized, I could never even measure up. If I could be half as great as her, I'd be a success.

I love my mom. I love her for all that she taught me whether it was through fear, brain washing, fear, life lessons, fear, love and fear.  She helped mold who I am today and for that I am eternally thankful. I am a strong independent woman who can stand on my own two feet thanks to her.  (Well, my dad too.)

She is a great role model.  I was raised with the mentality that life isn't fair and the sooner I accepted that, the better off I'd be. I could be angry about it or be twice as good as the person next to me. I am one of seven kids and being the second youngest has not always yield the best results.  My mom refers to me as the 'forgotten' one as I was so quiet and obedient as a child.  I'm not making this up - it's true!

I learned the family golden rules very early in life.  It was never an issue 'if' I was going to college, it was a matter of 'when and where' I was going to college. My parents didn't pay for weddings, didn't co-sign loans and only paid college tuition with what they could afford at that given time.  If I moved back in after college, I paid rent and still lived by the house rules regardless of my age.  These were the big important rules and of course, there were many more house rules as with any family.  My house was strict - no bullshit.  There were consequences for bad actions or lack of action. My mom and dad did not mess around and I knew it. I was kid number six, I observed, I learned, I soaked it in like a sponge.  I watched my older siblings test the waters and knew I enjoyed my bed, food and shelter. I was taught I could be anything I wanted to be when I grew up as long as I worked hard. It didn't matter that I was a girl.

I learned life is hard but it would be harder if I was lazy and dumb. We worked very hard in my family. We had a paper route from the time I was in the second grade.  We all helped. That was back in the day when there was a morning and afternoon newspaper.  We delivered it on foot or from our banana seat bikes with the paper sac strapped onto the handle bars.  We collected payment door-to-door.  We were like letter carriers - gotta get it there regardless of the rain, sleet, or snow. We had the same paper route for 10 years.

I mowed lawns, shoveled snow, cleaned houses, and babysat. I got my first job as a bus girl and a hostess when I was 15 years old.  I taught swim lessons, life guarded and became a waitress at 16, a skill which carried me financially through college and into adulthood.  During tough financial times, I was always able to fall back into it and make it through.  I learned how to work hard from watching my mom and my dad.

I pursued my dreams because I was taught it didn't just have to be a dream.  It could be reality but my determination and dedication played a factor in making that dream a reality. It wasn't just going to fall upon me.  I had to work for it.

One of the most important things I learned from my parents was acceptance.  You see, I am one of seven children but I am one of two 'homemade' or biological children.  Now if you were paying attention, I said I was kid number six.  My only other biological sibling is my youngest sister and she is kid number 7.  She and I were born last.  My five older siblings are all adopted and either black or bi-racial. They all were members of my family before I was even a twinkle in my parents eye.  My siblings are not step siblings or foster siblings, they are my brothers and sisters.  I've never thought of them any other way - not once, ever.  It is what I know and all I have know for my entire existence.  This is my family.

You may ask why does this matter.  It does.  It helped define who I am.  I refer to it as my bonus education.  I feel privileged to have this unique education in a world that is so predicated on first impressions, stereotypes, and social classes.  My family is unique.  My mom and dad are unique. I am a minority in my own family - one of two white kids, with white parents, and five black siblings. This may be a more common theme today, but it was not the norm over the last 40 years.

So I've learned I am happy to have become my mom.  We have many similarities, traits, and interests. I hear her voice, in my head, when I am speaking to my children while passing on the same motherly advice she once gave me.  I exhibit her mannerisms when I least expect it. I have her drive and ambition to succeed and yet,  I know I am not as great as she is and can only hope to be half the person she is someday.

My mom is  a great mom and she found it in her heart to be a mom to five other children that needed a mom.  I may be a minority in my own family but it's one in which I would never trade for the world.  I hope you, too, are lucky enough to have a mom like mine.  But she is mine and not for sale and I'm proud to say I've turned into my mom.

Rachel