Grey hair.

White skin. 

Nodding to every black person that crosses her path.

I have no doubt that the black and brown men and women of Northern Ireland were wondering what the hell this wee woman was doing. 

But for her this was a way of saying – you are alright. 

There’s a friendly face who gets what it is like to be alone in a sea of faces that don’t look like you. 

She got what that nod meant. 

She wasn’t crossing the street clutching her handbag.

She wasn’t avoiding eye contact. 

She was giving a purposeful nod that said you are not alone.

A like-minded traveller who ended up in majority white Northern Ireland, where the questions are more about orange and green, and a black person is as rare as hen’s teeth. 

Nice to find another one of us. 

But, she’s grey haired and white skinned. 

She’s not one of us. 

No, but after 30 years of being the white face, working in Zambia and Botswana, a marriage to a black man and birthing, raising and loving 3 brown kids. She gets it.

She knows the power of the nod. 

The more power to your elbow, good to see you here, nod. 

The, you’re ok nod.  

A nod that says – there are people who want you to be here. 

There are people here who see the black and brown of your skin, but see so much more than that. 

In a world that says they don’t see colour. In a world that says we are all the same, but the reality is so clearly different for us black and brown folks, that nod means something.

It means welcome. It means acceptance. It means comfort. It means love.

More power to your elbow Mum. 

More power.

More nods.

More love.

Happy Mother’s day mum