This is my family.
In 2003, after surviving cancer and suffering through infertility, my husband and I adopted our newborn daughter.
In 2005 we adopted our newborn son. Our son is biracial.
My mom, was a teenager in the 60s. Her tiny town in Maryland was one of the early areas of unrest during the Civil Rights movement when their local community college allowed African Americans to attend.
When that occurred, protesters arrived burned down the mainstreet of town including my grandparent’s diner – the family’s livelihood.
Imagine three decades later, my white family is able to adopt a black man’s son as our own. That’s only possible because of the bravery, courage, commitment and sacrifice of Martin Luther King and the other patriots who fought for equal rights, and others who continue their fight into our future.
What Martin Luther King Day means to me is pure love.