“He doesn’t’ have to do that. I am fine.” “He has to Rod,” said Sister Call. “He needs to know that he has to kiss the booboo and make it better after he hits.”
The baby boy kissed my knee and life went on for them, but it started something for me. I started to realize I am important too, not only to God, but also to the members of His church. The Calls, from Utah did not see me as a Black member of the church. They saw me as a brother. I liked that. I felt so sad to see them move away from Nashville. Visiting them was my first intimate exposure to the White side of Nashville.
I needed to know about other people that looked like me, Black people, even if I did not know it at the time. The identity issues took a head when I was seventeen-years-old and wanted to get my patriarchal blessing. I understood that getting such a blessing would aid me in my life as a follower of Christ and I desired to have all the help I could get. Though I did not understand it at the time, I realized that I would also find my lineage from the blessing. I anticipated that I would find out which one of the tribes of Israel from whence I