How Intersectionality Shaped My Adoptive Family

“Intersectionality, sweetheart.”

That was my answer when my nine-year-old daughter asked what I was reading one evening. Like many parents in recent years, I had been studying the cultural currents shaping our world. She tilted her head and asked the next obvious question.

“What is intersectionality?”

“I’ll teach you when you’re older.”

“Is it scary?”

“Yes,” I said. “It is.”

Her question lingered long after she ran off to play. Why did I hesitate? What felt so heavy about explaining intersectionality to a child I love?

Years ago, Corrie ten Boom told a story about asking her father a question she wasn’t ready to carry. Instead of answering directly, he showed her that some knowledge is too weighty for young shoulders. That evening with my daughter, I felt the weight of ideas that reshape how we see one another ideas that, if absorbed uncritically, could fracture even a loving home.

And my family is not theoretical. We are living at the intersection of race, adoption, culture, and faith every single day.

What Is Intersectionality?

Intersectionality began in legal scholarship as a way of explaining how a person might experience discrimination in overlapping ways such as being both a woman and a racial minority. On its surface, that observation is not difficult to understand.

But over time, intersectionality has grown beyond a legal framework into a comprehensive worldview shaped by critical theory. It tends to interpret human relationships primarily through power dynamics dividing society into oppressor groups and oppressed groups based on characteristics like race, sex, class, or other identity markers.

In this framework:

• Human interactions are viewed as power struggles.

• Group identity defines moral standing.

• Disparities are interpreted as evidence of systemic injustice.

• Elevating some voices and silencing others is considered necessary for justice.

Scripture does not deny oppression. In fact, the Bible is honest about injustice. From Egypt’s slavery in Exodus to the warnings of the prophets, God sees oppression and judges it. Globally, more than 40 million people are estimated to be living in modern forms of slavery today a sobering reminder that injustice is real and present.

But the Bible diagnoses the root problem differently. The central fracture in humanity is not between racial groups but between sinful humanity and a holy God (Romans 3:23). That distinction changes everything.

Our Family at the Crossroads

Let me introduce you to my family.

My wife and I were married in 2003. Today we are a family of seven. All but one of our children came to us through adoption.

If you lined us up in birth order, you would see a spectrum of beautiful shades. Our oldest two are from Ethiopia. Our middle daughter was born in Mississippi and likely has Haitian ancestry. Our baby girl carries Cherokee, African, and Caucasian roots. Our youngest, the only biological child, is as pale as his parents, with European ancestry tracing back to Scotland, Ireland, and Germany.

We are, in many ways, America under one roof.

So when my daughter asked about intersectionality, who was speaking to whom? Was I merely a white man explaining power structures to a Black child? Was I an oppressor? Was she a victim? Should my brown-skinned children resent their white brother? Should my white son inherit guilt for sins he did not commit?

According to an intersectional lens, those questions are unavoidable.

According to the gospel, they are misdirected.

The Cruelty of False Compassion

Let me be clear: racism has stained American history. Slavery, segregation, and discrimination are grievous chapters. The United States once legally upheld racial slavery for nearly 250 years. That history matters. We must tell the truth about it.

But in recent years, something else has emerged a narrative that tells minority children that their neighbors secretly fear them, that authority figures are inherently against them, that their future is largely determined by the moral failure of others.

That is not compassion. It is cruelty.

It is cruel to tell a child that the odds are permanently stacked against them because of their skin color.

It is cruel to imply that success will come only if standards are lowered.

It is equally cruel to treat a child as a diversity asset rather than as a whole person.

Psychologists consistently note that identity formation in childhood is deeply influenced by repeated messaging. When children hear over and over that they are primarily defined by grievance or guilt, it shapes how they interpret every interaction.

If our family adopted that framework fully, it would suffocate our joy. It would introduce suspicion where there is trust. It would plant rivalry where there is love.

Intersectionality promises liberation but often delivers division.

Giving God the Right of Way

Busy intersections can be dangerous. But traffic laws keep cars moving safely. Someone yields. Someone has the right of way.

At the intersection of race, adoption, and culture, we have decided who gets the right of way in our home: God’s Word.

Rather than beginning with group identity, we begin with Genesis.

You Are Made in God’s Image

Before my children are Black, white, adopted, or biological, they are image-bearers.

“So God created man in his own image” (Genesis 1:27).

That truth predates ethnicity, nationality, and culture. Acts 17:26 reminds us that God “made from one man every nation of mankind.” Our children trace their roots not merely to Ethiopia, Mississippi, or Europe but to Adam.

Intersectionality often zooms in on difference. The gospel begins with shared dignity.

Research across cultures shows that humans instinctively categorize one another by visible differences. But Scripture calls us to higher resolution. When we see one another primarily as image-bearers, we recover the detail that ideology tends to blur.

In our home, we say: “You are a person made in the image of God.” That is first.

You Belong to This Family

Our last name is Hunter.

Sometimes people ask about our children’s “real parents.” We know what they mean. But the question can unintentionally undermine a foundational truth: these are our children.

Family is not an afterthought in Scripture. Genesis 2:24 establishes the family at the dawn of creation. Paul writes of the Father “from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named” (Ephesians 3:14–15).

Intersectional thinking tends to prioritize external group identity over family bonds. But in our home, being Hunters matters.

Adoption is not an asterisk. It is part of our story. Our children are not foreigners in their own house. They are sons and daughters.

When we sit at the dinner table, we are not demographic representatives. We are siblings.

You Are Americans

Citizenship is not ultimate, but it is meaningful.

The United States has its flaws. Every nation does. Yet American citizenship is grounded not in ethnicity but in shared ideals. That matters in a multiethnic family like ours.

The apostle Paul did not despise his Roman citizenship. He used it when necessary (Acts 22:25–29). Likewise, earthly citizenship is a real category secondary to Christ, but not irrelevant.

We teach our children that they are Americans. That means they share common ground with their neighbors, regardless of race. It means they inherit both the blessings and responsibilities of this nation.

Intersectionality often alienates people from their country. The gospel equips them to engage it faithfully.

You Are Christians

Above all, we tell our children: “You are sinners in need of grace.”

That levels the ground.

The dividing line in humanity does not run between races but between all of us and God. And that line is crossed only by the blood of Christ.

Revelation 5:9 gives us a vision of the future: people “from every tribe and language and people and nation” worshiping the Lamb. Diversity is not erased in Christ it is redeemed and harmonized.

In our church, that vision is not a marketing strategy. It is reality shaped by obedience. We preach Christ. We practice hospitality. We show partiality to no one.

Sociologists estimate that Sunday morning remains one of the most segregated hours in America. That may be true in many places. But the answer is not demographic engineering it is faithful discipleship.

At church, my children see something powerful. They see older saints who love them. They hear songs that exalt Christ above culture. They take the Lord’s Supper alongside believers who do not share their skin tone but do share their Savior.

That is the safest intersection in town.

What I Want My Children to Carry

My daughter is older now. We talk about intersectionality openly. She can carry more weight.

I want her to understand that some ideas divide families and reassign guilt in ways Christ never intended.

I want her to see that justice without the gospel becomes endless accusation.

I want her to know that Christ has already borne the heaviest burden—sin itself.

Intersectionality taps into a longing for a better world. The gospel fulfills that longing in a way no ideology can. It tells us we are fully known, fully responsible, and fully redeemable.

At the intersection of race, family, and faith, Christ stands at the center. He directs the traffic. He bears the load.

And nothing is too heavy for Him.

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