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Black, White and Ms. Adkisson

This morning, I was watching the Believers Voice of Victory Network® on YouTube®. As I watched, I sat there thinking how much I so enjoy, Kenneth Copeland’s teaching because he said something that got me to thinking. He said that God will anoint us to be the ‘best on the planet’ at whatever we do. For me, that would be writing, and for some reason my mind transported me back to Albert Sidney Johnston Elementary; the friendliest school in Dallas where everybody is somebody. #ourschoolaffirmation


While there, I thought about how my favorite teacher – to this day – is Ms. Adkisson, a white woman. Because of Ms. Adkisson, I learned to enjoy reading. Before I liked reading because I saw my father do it all the time and because my mother forced me to. But Ms. Adkisson introduced me to the joy of reading. She did so by allowing us to read out loud. She also helped us to put ourselves in the stories. So when I read, I saw myself – there – which helped me to understand the book more which always resulted in high comprehension scores. I smile because even though she did, one of the first books that I placed myself into was, ‘The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe’. Should we have been reading such material as small children – NO! But that was her only fault. 😊


Another thing is that this white woman always spoke highly of my penmanship. She identified and encouraged my gift for writing and even went so far as to use it. Ms. Adkisson let me write the names on the award certificates for the entire class – IN THE THIRD GRADE. That was huge! It’s like she knew I was destined to write and helped point me in that direction. And this was a white woman back in the late 70’s; when Black advocacy wasn’t so popular. Out of all the teachers I’ve had, she was the only one that encouraged my writing gift. But then I thought about another teacher who identified and encouraged my intelligence and that was Mr. Jordan.


Mr. Jordan was my white Chemistry teacher. It was in his class that I cut up the most. And though I did, each time he’d ask a complicated question, somehow, I knew the answer which seemed to surprise him. So much so, one day he called me into the hall to encourage me to use my intelligence for good and not to be the smart aleck I’d become. In both instances and at very important junctures in my life, God used white people to encourage me. Fast forward and He used a white woman to usher in my salvation. A white couple to teach me about the Word. A white man to tell me which translation of the Bible I should use to get the closest interpretation to the literal. A white man to give me the verse I needed to be delivered from mental illness. And a white man to help teach me about faith and how to live a Bible-based life. He even used a movie about white people, though they were Jewish, to birth my call, assignment, and love for prayer.


In the eyes of other black people, I understand how this can be misconstrued as I only think highly of white people. But that would be false. I am acutely aware of the black excellence and brilliance of my people. In fact, God used a black man to teach me about how the Word can impact the mind, and it was after hearing a black woman teach that I was able to kick an 18-year weed addiction. And lest I forget, it was a black woman's prayer that led me to leave a sexually promiscuous lifestyle, and it was a black woman who inspired me to be celibate for 16 years. It's also worth mentioning that it was a singaporean man that helped me to see that the gospel can be attractive, and it was a ukrainian woman that led me to sow my first international seed. The purpose for this post; especially in this highly charged, racially disparaging climate we live in today, is to point out that is that we can miss life-changing impartations if we only look at color. If I only exposed myself to black ministries, listened only to black music, only watched black programming, and only read after black authors I would have missed so much. Not discounting the black experience, but I wouldn’t be all of who God created me to be today. The truth of the matter is that I need both, and so do white supremist. They’re missing life-changing impartations from the people they need the most. Thankfully, and because of God’s grace, I did not. And it is my prayer, that I be the black woman in someone’s white story. And prayerfully, you will be too.


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