Although most everyone we encountered on Virgin Gorda was black, the only three verbal acknowledgments of anything related to race from the boys were:
- On Saturday morning we were at Savannah Bay Beach (see photos below). The only other people anywhere within sight were 3 groups of locals who appeared to be families. They were all hanging out on one area of the beach and there were a whole bunch of young kids who were swimming in the water and playing on the sand. We plopped down our stuff fairly close to these folks and starting playing in the water ourselves. At one point Owen was on the beach with Braydon and I, while Kyle was in the shallow water to the left of us. Just past Kyle, about 20 feet down the beach, a group of kids were also playing in the water (probably at least a dozen kids, mostly boys, wearing nothing but underpants or shorts). Owen was watching Kyle and also looking past him watching the kids. Matter of factly Owen said to me, “Look Mama, just like my brother.” I said, “What do you mean?” He said, “Those ones look just like my brother.” I said, “Yes Owen! That’s so smart for noticing that! Yes, their skin looks just like your brother’s skin!” He got up and ran to the water to join Kyle. On his way he yelled out to me: “They’re black!” Then a short pause. Then: “Black skin!”
- One day toward the end of our trip we were all sitting on the beach having a snack after having been snorkeling. Braydon and I were talking and the boys were just chowing down. In the midst of our conversation Braydon mentioned something about how tan he and I were both getting. I said to Braydon, “Have you noticed how dark they’re getting?” (meaning, had he noticed that Kyle and Owen’s skin was visibly a few shades darker since arriving on Virgin Gorda.) Braydon said, “Yes, they’re getting so dark.” Kyle abruptly looked up from his snack and said “WHAT?” I said, “We were just talking about how dark we’re all getting.” “ME???”, asked Kyle. “Yes, you. And all of us. Our skin. It is getting darker from the sun.” He looked at his arm and said, “Yes, my skin is dark.” Then he went on to eat more of his snack. Later that day Kyle pointed out some men to me and said, “Mama, look, they are dark like me. Not morning. They are dark.”
- Many, many people on Virgin Gorda have dreadlocks. Some men have very long dreadlocks, all the way down their backs. People would often greet Kyle and Owen by saying: “Its the Rasta Babies!” Or, “Hi Little Rasta Boy!” They loved to touch their hair and talk about their hair and (much to my pride and joy) tell me how “HEALTHY!!!” their hair is. Men specifically seemed to love Kyle and Owen and would often greet the boys by saying, “Hi little man! Hey there my little brother!” ETC. One night we were at an open-air restaurant that is a big local hangout. Everyone sits at tables on a deck overlooking the ocean. A group of men were sitting at a large table drinking beer and playing dominoes. Several of the men had long, long locs. As we entered the scene they were all thrilled to see the boys there and the boys were — of course — thrilled to be the center of attention. The men were doing the fist-slam with the boys, high fives all around, and two of the men (both of whom had long locs) were chatting it up with the boys while their arms were around them and were rubbing K & O’s backs, etc. It was all very, very, very sweet and cute and nice. I noticed Kyle look up at the man who had his arm around him, he was looking at the man’s long dreds (which were in a ponytail) and then he looked at me and somehow I just knew that Kyle wanted to touch the man’s hair but was hesitant. I said, “Kyle, look at his beautiful dreadlocks.” (loud enough for the man to hear). Kyle said, to the man: “Yes. Just like mine.” (and he put both hands to his own head and pulled up a couple locs to ‘show’ to the man.) The man touched Kyle’s hair and said, “Yes, look at your locs little man!” Kyle then touched the man’s hair and was rubbing his hands up and down the man’s long locs. Kyle looked at me and said, “I want big dreadlocs.” The men all started laughing. Owen chimed in, “I want to be a big man. Just like him.” (and he pointed to the man closest to him — who also happened to have long dreds). I said, “You will both be big men someday. But now you have nice dreadlocs. And they are still short. Because you are a boy.” Kyle looked at the man and said, “I have dreadlocs. Just like your dreadlocs. Me and my brother both. We will be big men just like you. We will have big dreadlocks.”