Available on Amazon and Kindle
I gave up my son because he was black.
Don’t get me wrong. My child’s race made absolutely no difference to me.
But it made a big difference to society.
It was 1970 and the civil rights movement was in full swing. But I was to learn that liberal sentiments only went so far when it came to race in the bedroom—much less in the nursery.
I was an unwed teenager in a middle-class white world. To fight for civil rights was one thing. But to be pregnant by a black man was going too far.
I did what everyone expected I should do. I gave my baby up for adoption, even though I desperately wanted to keep him.
And then my life turned into the stuff of nightmares.
I married my baby’s father several years later and had another son, and then plunged into a life of secrets, lies, and abuse.
Plagued by my white guilt for giving up my black son, I stayed with their father for years.
But throughout those years, I could never forget the baby I’d given up.
And through an extraordinary set of circumstances, I found him before he could find me.
And now I’m ready to tell my story.
My memoir, White Lady, Black Sons, is about the painful decisions I made in a world that wasn’t quite ready for integration in the household.
It’s a memoir about changing race relations, and changing gender relations as I grew from a subservient and abused wife into a confident, assertive woman and writer.