Even more surprising, though, were the number of transracial adoptive families we saw. Starting on the subway on the way there, where a family of two women (friends, I think) with four children befriended us. The children were a biracial boy of about 10 or 11, and three younger blonde girls. He immediately started engaging Baby E, trying to play with him. He was a beautiful boy, with skin the same color as Baby E's, and tiny little curls close shorn under his baseball cap. He asked Papa D: "Are you his dad?" "Yes," we said. "Are you his mom?" he asked me. "Yes," we said. I added, "We adopted him." That opened the door. He asked how long we had him, and I said since birth. He explained, "My mom and dad adopted me at birth." When Baby E was holding onto his finger, I said, "You're almost exactly the same color." He answered, "When it's hot, I get black. When it's cold, I get white." An interesting take on climate and racial identity.
At the festival, everywhere we turned there were adoptive parents with their children of other races. It was so exciting and empowering. I know that Baby E wasn't getting much out of it, but someday he will.
What he was getting was lots of attention from people of color. From the toddler girl who was drawn to him on the dance floor ("baby" she kept saying) to the mother on the subway who played peek-a-boo with him, he charmed them all. I had to remind myself that he doesn't know he has a color yet, but then I realized that the other people do, especially the adults. They were responding to him and interacting with him.
I don't know whether that will continue as he grows older, but it is a very compelling reason to continue to visit the city as often as we can.

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