We were at the pool one day in St. Louis, when my son said something to me I was sure I’d never hear him say.
My daughter was also at the pool that day, with her cousin, but unfortunately we had no one to invite that was my son’s age. He was bummed out about this, and kept talking about how lucky his sister was to have her cousin there to play with. So I went on a mission to find him a friend at the pool.
We went up to a few kids before I found a mom who was willing to assist me in my match making. The two boys seemed to hit it off well enough, and played for about 30 minutes, before the mom took him to another area of the pool with his younger sibling to have a snack. At this point my son started to sulk again, so I went looking for someone else his age.
Almost immediately I saw a boy who also seemed to be looking for a playmate. I had seen him approaching other groupsm asking to participate in their games, and I didn’t see a parent (or younger siblings) hovering around him, so I thought he’d be the perfect playmate for my son. I happily pointed him out, and couldn’t believe my ears when my son informed me that he didn’t want to play with that boy, because, in his words, “his body looks different from mine.”
I’m sure you guessed it by now, but the boy I thought my son could play with was black, and my son is white.
I was so shocked that at first I didn’t know what to say. Maybe he thinks that boy is younger because he seems smaller and more slight, I scrambled, but I knew that wasn’t what my son meant. My son didn’t want to play with that little boy because he was black.
We walked back to our towels as I tried to think how to respond. I started by saying I was surprised to hear him say that, because he has many friends whose bodies “look different.” And it’s true. At least half of my son’s friends are Hispanic, as his Spanish immersion preschool attracts a lot of families with at least one Hispanic parent. But the reality is there were very few African American students there. I knew there were none in his class, and I honestly couldn’t remember if there were any of the other classes either.
When this unspoken reality made itself evident in my son’s reply – something about how this boy’s body was really different – I changed tactics and reminded him that two of his sister’s friends’ “bodies looked different” and that they were still very good friends that he liked to play with. And it is true, one girl especially is incredibly nice to him and he assumes she is as much his friend as my daughter’s. This definitely made him pause, and he seemed to think hard about what I was saying.
After a sustained silence I went on to talk about how it’s true that not everyone looks the same, that some people have different color skin, and different color hair, and different color eyes, but that we’re all the same on the inside. We talked more about the various people in our lives that look different and about what good friends they are and how much they mean to us. After this, I asked him again if he’d like to go talk to the boy in the pool, who was clearly still looking for someone to play with.
My son agreed and the two boys hit it off. They ended up playing together for over two hours, and I only once mentioned again, as we were leaving, how we can make friends with all different kinds of people.
I have to admit, the whole episode really rattled me. Teaching tolerance is VERY important to me and my husband – one of the main reasons we want to stay in the city and send our kids to city schools is so they will meet and be friends with kids from diverse backgrounds. I thought we were doing a good job – only one of my daughter’s good friends is white (a couple have one white parent) and she is clearly comfortable talking to and befriending kids of any background. She has never made a comment to me that would suggest she believes white people are better than any one else, or that she prefers to play with white people. I figured my son felt the same.
But the reality is I couldn’t have known, because we haven’t actually spoken with him about race. And I know how important it is for parents to talk about race with their kids. After reading that article in Nurture Shock about how avoiding the topic of race in the hopes that their children will be color blind, is exactly the wrong strategy for white parents who hope to raise tolerant kids, I am acutely aware of how important it is to talk openly and explicitly about race. Kids will instinctively notice that kids look different and avoid them – it’s human nature to categorize the world and put yourself in the most easily determined category; we need to talk to our kids, early and often, about race so that they can learn that even people who look different are, on the inside, the same.
Only a couple weeks after the pool incident, my son let me know that we still have a lot of talking to do about race.
Yesterday was my son’s first day of a one week, half-day summer camp. He was pretty nervous about going – it was his first and only organized care situation since he left his preschool of three years last month. He knew he wasn’t going to know anyone there and was worried he wouldn’t make any friends. But he was brave and walked in with a smile. When I came to pick him up it was clear he was having a great time, and had really enjoyed himself.
But the lead camp counselor came over and asked me to speak with her privately. Evidently, earlier in the day, my son had told two boys that they had the same color skin and so they must be brothers. This hurt one of the boy’s feelings and he started crying. The counselors told him that they weren’t brothers, and changed the subject without really going into it. Now they were asking me to talk to him about it.
And I did. We had another discussion about how people can have similar skin or hair or eye color and not be related, and how people can have very different skin or hair or eye color and be related. We talked about how we shouldn’t talk about people’s skin, or hair or eye color because it might hurt their feelings (even if we’re not trying to be mean) but that it’s okay to notice people look different and it’s always okay to ask questions at home. He seemed to understand, but it’s hard to be sure. Obviously, living in a diverse city, and going to school with people from different backgrounds won’t make our son “color blind;” we need to keep having conversations about skin color, making sure that our son is not just tolerant of, but kind to people who “look different.”
How and when do you teach tolerance? Can you recommend any books or shows (geared toward a 4-5yo) that explicitly talk about race?
