Out of the "comfort zone"

It's been a long time - way too long in fact - since I was able to make some time to sit down and blog. I'm not convinced that anyone really read this blog anyway, but here goes...

We moved recently. It was NOT a fun experience, but we moved. My husband and I both share a love of old Victorian homes. We looked and looked and found a SCREAMING deal. There are so many incredible buys in the real estate market right now, and yet people seem nervous yet to buy. I'm a real estate agent (something else fairly new in my life) and I see daily amazing homes going for nothing! The market is starting to improve steadily now and people need to get into these great homes while the prices are so great! But I digress...

So we moved from an area that I lived in for over 16 years. When I moved there originally, it was quiet. It was considered "out in the country". I decorated with the dorky cow stuff, painted the mailbox like a black and white dairy (Holstein) cow, and we loved having some land, privacy and nothing behind us but a Christmas tree farm. Times had changed though. The County had allowed completely uncontrolled growth and our quiet country life changed into complete urban sprawl in 16 years. Traffic is absolutely ridiculous now. Even in the middle of the day there is gridlock on the 4-lane highway that used to be pretty quiet. As I have mentioned before, I am Wiccan. I'm not your mainstream kind of gal that lives under a rock and doesn't see anything outside of her own tunnel vision. With that being said, I would also have to say that I am racially open and have a large amount of friends from many races. I have always seen myself as almost completely anti-racist. Wrong. In the 16 years I lived in that small community, we had one black family. They were friends of ours and they were an awesome family. I thought nothing of it until the urban sprawl began and quite quickly we lived in a very racially diverse community. I started to worry about my safety and my children's safety. I felt guilty for locking my doors while sitting in my car at a red light just because a black man dressed like a gang-banger was walking by, but SHEESH! I had not been subjected to anything but my little country life until then. We decided to move after I saw a man standing in my fenced backyard one night looking in the windows. Country life was over. We lived in the "hood" - as I see it.

Interestingly enough, we moved to a neighborhood that I would never have considered ten years ago in Central Tacoma. Ten years ago, the police were busy here cleaning out gangs and drugs and all kinds of "nasties" that I would never consider living in the midst of. Tacoma police have done a fantastic job of cleaning out this area though, and it has allowed many families to move in, taking over these huge and beautiful Victorian homes to renovate them. Our new home is 114 years old and has been very well maintained. Our street is about a 50/50 mix of white to black people I would say, maybe slightly more white. I have very nice black neighbors that I feel fortunate to have. I'm not afraid here like I was in the "country". It does however call for some attitude adjustments on the parts of my children, who sadly have my sense of humor. LOL

I tend to be goofy, slightly off the wall and sometimes dry. I switch pretty quickly between the types, which my children have learned to follow. They have picked up lots of my quirky jokes and they aren't afraid to say or do much for a laugh. They also have not been exposed to many other races, as they are homeschooled. It's awesome in one way, because they don't have any pre-conceived notions. It's not good in another way, because they don't know where to NOT make jokes. They don't realize which kinds of things may not be considered funny to other races, and they're not trying to be rude or disrespectful, they just don't see why something might not be funny.

I worried a little when we were getting ready to move, but figured my oldest sons (23, 22, 21 and 19) would be able to use enough maturity and common sense to not be offensive. WRONG. One of my good friends and his wife helped us move. He's black and very funny. We'll call him David. At one point, I came outside to hear David yelling, "Yes, Massa" and my son saying, "Your name is Toby!" to which David would reply, "my name is Koonta Kintai". OMG... I was horrified. The neighbors were entertaining friends in their yard and I know they could hear all of that! Maybe they weren't offended... I don't know. I was hiding in the house, cringing....

A couple of days later, my second oldest son was building a fence out back for us. He was bored and feeling silly evidentally... He built a wooden cross in the backyard and strapped my 10 year old son to it. My little guy was not hurt or anything, but kept saying, "I really think this is blasphemous".... I have to admit that part was funny. I didn't see anything or I would've stopped it immediately. I heard about it after the fact and again I was horrified. Good grief! What must the neighbors think?? Maybe I'm too worried.. Maybe I need to calm down. I just keep thinking they must think we are awful...

So we are enjoying our new home and I am working overtime not to offend my neighbors! LOL I will be taking pics and maybe I will start a new blog about the renovations and retrofitting of our home back into it's original Victorian beauty.