Essay About Much Time And None Of Ruth Mcbride

The Color Of Water
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Before I read “The Color of Water,” by James McBride, I saw his
appearance on 20/20, discussing his quest to discover the background of
his mysterious, marvelous mother. McBride said he didnt even know his
mothers maiden name, much less about her Orthodox Jewish background,
until he prodded it from her because he needed it for school records.
“Shilsky,” she told him, impatiently, offering no further details.
McBride, who is now about 42 years old, said he asked no more questions
of her, but added when he was “bonding” in Black Pride with his college
friends, playing bongo drums and jazz music, hed think: “Shilsky. Shilsky.
Somethings funny here”.
Watching him on television, such a fascinating, articulate and yet
entertaining man, made me want to know more about his amazing mother. I
received a copy of the book as a gift.
None of Ruth McBrides 12 children knew anything of substance about her
background. When they asked what color she was, she would answer, “I
am no color” and say that God is “the color of water.”
Ruth Shilsky, whose father was an abusive Orthodox Jewish Rabbi, treated
her and her mother extremely cruelly when she was a young girl in Suffolk,
Virginia. Jews were discriminated against second only to blacks. But Ruth
fell in love with a young black man, became pregnant by him, and was sent
to live with an aunt in New York city. She never went home again. She felt
much more at home in 1940s Harlem, and fell in love with another black
man, having a baby and living with him for more than a year before they were
wed and had several more children.
They made a good life together, but he died. Ruth later married yet another
remarkable black man, having more children with him for a total of 12.
James was in the middle, precocious, curious, bright and at risk for
becoming a street kid.
But he didnt have that much time. He didnt know why at the time, but his