And still

we choose love. Loudly.

Right now, being a biracial family means being vigilant in places that should feel neutral schools, playgrounds, streets we’ve walked a hundred times. It means answering questions our children shouldn’t have to ask yet. It means teaching them confidence and caution. Joy and awareness.

I look at my children and see everything Minnesota says it values: kindness, resilience, community, humanity. And yet, I’m aware that systems, rhetoric, and actions happening around us don’t always protect families like ours. That’s not an abstract concern. That’s lived reality.

It’s loving this place deeply the lakes, the neighborhoods, the people who show up for one another, while also carrying the constant awareness that not everyone sees your family as safe, equal, or fully belonging.

It’s pride and fear existing at the same time.

I create simple, intentional play tools because I couldn’t find what I needed, things that support regulation without overstimulation. This space is for thoughtful conversations about motherhood, play-based learning, and building a life rooted in presence.