Before S started middle school the questions began: Are you worried? Do you think it'll be safe? Do you wish he was going to the other school? My answer was always No to all three questions. Yes, I was worried, but not for the reasons they meant. Middle school is a living hell for a lot of kids and just extremely uncomfortable for some. How would he navigate new social situations? Would he still be a "good boy" or try on some new bad-ass clothes?

These questions were asked, for the most part, by good people, all parents from S's elementary school. Most of them were people you would want to be friends with. People who would never consider themselves to be intolerant. Your average everyday nice white person.

Our elementary school's idea of diversity is the recent array of Asian students who have begun to arrive. A good portion of the school would probably be classified as upper middle class. While we do have some families in need, the school and the school's PTA is well-funded. Not so with the middle school S attends. His middle school has a real cross-population of our community: "well to do," working class city kids, and people from public housing.

It's like real life and I love it.

So today when I dropped S off at school, my heart got a little lift from seeing him walk over to a group of kids as diverse as our country. My peachy white boy slapped hands with another boy with milk chocolate skin who was talking to another the color of mahogany. All were laughing, all were welcome. It was a beautiful thing to see.

But the most amazing part of it is the idea that maybe my children won't even notice how great it is, that this is just the way the world is. Colorful and beautiful.