White Mom

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A white mom has gone viral on TikTok for preaching the gospel of black girl magic.
In a video liked more than 13 million times before disappearing from the platform, Justine Champion, dubbed @teenychamp on TikTok, drew both praise and criticism for her unorthodox dogma.
The footage, originally posted on Dec. 30, shows Champion with her four young sons on an outdoor play set. “Me teaching my white boys how to behave,” reads text on the clip.
“Black women are the reason Donald Trump is no longer gonna be our president,” she says, facing the camera while her sons bow amid giggles.
“They are marching around chanting ‘all hail black women,'” the mom from California says, adding that the production “took five takes” to get right.
This mom on TikTok is going viral for having her kids kneel and pray to black women pic.twitter.com/Hi94ZvMl7C
Not everyone found Champion’s sermon sincere.
“I’m a woman of color and agreed,” commented one TikTok user, according to Daily Mail. “But it’s annoying when people make these videos just for clout and not because they genuinely agreed.”
Champion then attempted an explanation in response: “I know the type you’re talking about, so I’m not upset or anything, but I just wanted to clarify that that’s not why I made this video.”
“If you want to go onto my page and see some of my content,” she continued, “you can see some of the things [I] regularly do, the actions that I take to help the communities that are marginalized in the United States.”
Demonstrating she already has clout, Champion added that she’s gone viral before for posting videos of “women and people of color and the history that’s left out of our textbooks.”
‘Is she right? Yes. Does she get to become famous for it? No.’
Champion has since written that she removed the video, replacing it with one that includes a snippet of the original followed by a black woman speaking straight to camera, explaining this kind of language is “putting a target on our back.”
But the comments continued on Twitter, where New York Times reporter Taylor Lorenz shared the eyebrow-raising clip on Wednesday. There, followers called the mom “cringe” and the video “uncomfortable,” sharing embarrassment on her behalf.
“Is she right? Yes,” one tweeted. “Does she get to become famous for it? No.”
On Friday, Champion responded to Lorenz’s tweet to say that, on reflection, she should have asked herself “what would black women do?”
“I took it down after listening to some black women and their concerns,” she wrote. “Others want me to put it back up because they loved it. Either way I’m grateful they helped get rid of trump.”
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by Anjuli Paschall Apr 22, 2021 30 Comments 131 Shares
I remember sitting on your lap as a child. Our living room was filled with the scent of curry, spice, and summer. The windows were wide open, and the neighbors knew the sound from our floorboards on a Friday night meant worship was happening. I sat on your lap well past the necessary age because being close to your skin felt safest. On Friday evenings, the world would gather in our home. You invited everyone in. You picked up a blind woman from a street corner once, African refugees, and Chinese students that didn’t know any English. You never hesitated to welcome in a stranger, an outcast, a misfit, a non-English speaking foreigner, a wanderer, a person of light, brown, or Black skin. Everyone was equal. In your eyes, everyone needed Jesus. 
I remember sitting in our living room while the drums shook our old farmhouse to the bone. I could feel the beat from the bounce of your leg. I could feel it in my heart. All the accents sang the same words. It made me feel alive. At the bridge of the song, “Welcome to the Family,” the worship leader invited us all to stand up, sing, and greet each other. This was my favorite part. The seventy people crammed into our living room stood and embraced each other. I climbed over couches and folding chairs to extend my arms to strangers who happened to stop by for a meal and worship and to learn who this Jesus person was. Each person needing a home. I was so happy. I couldn’t stop smiling. The drums never stopped pounding until every single person was welcomed. 
I remember sitting on your bed for our daily discussions. You would sip your tea. I’d tell you about my day. You would look at me and marvel, “You are so beautiful. Your skin is the perfect color.” I’d jump off your bed and look at my reflection and smile. I was beautiful. Not because I knew what the measure of beauty was, but because you thought I was, so it must be true.
Mom, I remember the way you sat beside me when the day was done. You would stroke my dark hair down my back and sing hymns, songs, and lullabies as I fell asleep.
You’ve always sat beside me. You are white. I am brown. Your skin burns in the sun; mine only darkens. I wonder if the way through the clash of cultures, race, and cancelation comes when we sit beside one another as you’ve sat beside me all these years. I wonder if moving forward starts when we make space for being wrong. 
Perhaps the way you’ve modeled love to me can give hope to our hurting world. You loved in a generous, selfless, and jaw-dropping way. You love in extraordinary ways. You gracefully clawed against cultural norms and created a God-culture in our home. Maybe that’s what heals all the pain — extraordinary love. The kind of extraordinary love that sees the difference but doesn’t make the difference hiccup, hesitate, hold up, or hold back. The kind of extraordinary love that laid down His life for a world that whipped Him instead of worshipped Him.
Mom, I know you are lamenting the political climate right now. I know you are hurting for the unborn. I know you are anxious about the future. I know you cringe at the hate crimes against your Asian sisters. I see your pain. My pain doesn’t diminish yours. Your pain doesn’t diminish mine. Listen to mine, and I’ll listen to yours. This is only possible because Christ’s arms are wide enough to receive all our pain. His arms were pinned and pulled wide as a way to take on all our hate, hurt, and hidden pain. His love is large enough to hold all the horrible sadness. By His wounds, we are healed. By our wounds, He heals us.
Lament is a love song. Sometimes the love song can sound like a banging drum, heavy metal hate, or fragile violin strings. But we must lament. There is space for us both to fall apart. There is space for me to sing my own sad song. At the feet of Christ, I can cry out for my children, and my soft wounds still fresh from harsh words spoken. My grief is split open with a gunshot. We grieve into our loss. We grieve into our shattered stories. We grieve into our sad storm. We grieve into Jesus. Our grief is heard. Our grief is safe. Our healing comes when we hear God’s love song over us; Christ sings over us (Zephaniah 3:17). 
I’ve pondered deeply how change can happen. I don’t toss out trite ideas, but I am throwing every hope of the possibility of change on the back of Jesus. Hope in our splitting world will require an extraordinary kind of love. The kind of ordinary love that you, my white mom, have shown me. The kind of extraordinary love that forgives the unforgivable, a love that reaches out a hand to those who are different from us, a love that bends into what feels uncomfortable. An extraordinary kind of love that listens to our lament songs, then has the incredible audacity to sing along with us. 
Love always,
Your Asian-American daughter
In the end, this letter isn’t just for my mom. It is for all of us — a letter of hope and a way forward for those who belong to the family of God. There is no way without the extraordinary love and sacrifice of Jesus. There is no way without extending extraordinary love to each other. So even when we sing our lament songs off-key and imperfectly, we keep singing. We heal when we hear God’s love song over us, His beloved children. In His perfect love and grace, He alone can create harmony out of our dissonance.
Dear sister in Christ, what are you grieving today? How do you see God healing you? In what ways can you offer extraordinary, irrational, over-the-top, undeserved love to another today?
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Our imperfections glare in the light of Christ's perfection and shrink in the warmth of His embrace. -@aartipaarti: https://t.co/uxPKh4XTdK https://t.co/rtoM1lP7zh
We heal when we hear God's love song over us, His beloved children. In His perfect love and grace, He alone can create harmony out of our dissonance. -Anjuli Paschall:
Anjuli grew up as a missionary kid secretly wondering, “Why does everyone else understand what a relationship with Jesus is, but me?” It wasn’t until she ran into her fears instead of from them, that Anjuli found her voice and the love of God meeting her there. She is a...
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I love this. Thank you. As a white girl who grew up in Asia, surrounded by beautiful brown faces who loved me and who I loved, deeply, I too am throwing all my hope on Jesus.
This is written with such beauty.Thank you
This is so beautiful I have tears streaming down my face. I want to be your mum to my children. What an inspiration and what a beautiful way you stand along side each other. Thank you so much for sharing.
What a beautiful offering you have given to us all, Anjuli. Your Mom lived out, before you and the world around her, Jesus’ Gospel of love. Oh that we all, no matter the colour of our skin, would ask God to give us the grace and courage to offer that kind of love to our own neighbours, right where we are. Lord, please open my eyes to how I can do that here and now.
Amen and amen. Thank you for this, Anjuli.
I read an editorial written by our Salvation Army leader. He wrote about this current topic of different races, and concluded by saying “we all bleed red blood, and we all started from one man and one woman in the garden”. Jesus may have had brown skin because of where he lived. We have turned him into the race that we wanted him to be, but it never was a topic of the Bible. I remember the song that I sung in Sunday School: Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world, red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight, Jesus loves the little children of the world”. We all have the same needs of clean water, clean air, healthy food, and a clean environment. Today is Earth Day, so do something today in that regard too.
Beautiful words at a time when we all need to be reminded of the perfect love of Jesus. We are one in His eyes.
A deep, long, beautiful sigh! Thank you, Mom and thank you for sharing your story. This really touched my soul!
Thank you, Anjouli. Your mom is a beautiful model for us all. ❤️
What a beautiful letter to us all. Thank you for reminding us that God created us to be diverse, to see and love all the gorgeous skin tones that He loves.
Anjuli,
Your mom truly loved the way Jesus did/does — with grace and truth. Jesus was not a social justice warrior; He was a lover of individuals — no matter the color of their skin, where they were from, or what they’d done. He was about building individual relationships with sinners and inspiring their spirits to seek His Truth and obey it. We could all take a page from your Mom’s playbook which is obviously gleaned from scripture. Beautiful!
Blessings,
Bev xx
Today I am grieving the loss of my dad. He passed away a week ago. We are having his funeral this weekend. My mom passed last year during this time and that was sad enough. Now
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