Children Need To Be Taught

Children Need To Be Taught

I was walking in a church parking lot to register for a craft show and met a woman picking her daughter up from a Girl Scout meeting. As we went down the stairs to the office, two girls, about eight years old, came out and started up the steps. One girl said “Hi, Mom.” The woman turned and started up the steps with the girls. While pointing at me, Megan said, “Is that your mom?” Megan’s mom and I both slowed to hear the answer. The little girl looked carefully at me, almost as if not sure, and the reply slowly came, “Noooo, my moms’ a little darker.” I smiled. The girl had not identified either of us by race or nationality. As you read this, you may surmise that we were of different skin color. We could have been from the same racial heritage, with different coloring, or from widely different racial heritage, but you will never know for certain, from reading this. These children saw no difference and placed no importance on skin.
Lest you think this was an isolated incident, I well tell you of one other. I was living in the South Bronx, a racially diverse area, with a group of people attempting to turn an abandoned building into a co-op. We were from all walks of life, as well as widely divergent ethnic groups. One day two neighborhood boys were visiting. Along with Thomas and Tony, there were four adults present, Gail, her husband, James – another tenant, and I. Between the six of us, three races and at least eight countries were represented. We were quite different in height, coloring, and features. Thomas asked if James, 6-foot 6-inches and stocky, and Gail, 5-foot, 4-inches and slender, were brother and sister. In addition to the height and weight differences, there were strong coloring and feature differences. James looked shocked and asked “Do we look like we could be brother and sister?’’ Thomas replied, “Sure, why not?” Tony said, “Sure. Are you?” James said they were not related. Then the boys asked whether James and I were brother and sister. Again the answer was no. Isn’t it awesome that children do not see these differences? Isn’t it awful how many are taught that those differences are cause for hatred?
While traveling around the United States, I have seen bigotry in action on a daily basis, as witness and victim. I was saddened as I experienced the hatred of others for the color of their skin, for speaking English poorly or properly, or for coming from another country. The only people who have not come from another country are still among the most discriminated against, although there are those among Native Americans who are also bigoted. It is too bad that the Civil Rights movement of the 50’s and 60’s has not progressed enough to eliminate discrimination, and racial profiling is still strong, especially in the wake of the 9/11 attacks. I have learned that racism is learned behavior. Children are colorblind and would remain so if permitted to. I have proof of this.
My grandparents raised my brother and me. It was not until I was in my twenties, that I learned they had some minor prejudices. It made me wonder about an incident that happened after busing began to even up the racial quota in public schools. I was about 8, and a girl who was bused in from another town struck up a friendship with me. She began calling me about homework and girl stuff. Then she invited me over to play. My grand mother said it was to far for me to travel alone. It would also be too expensive for her and my brother to go along. Money was tight and we would have to take a subway and a bus, 6 fares each way. I suggested we ride our bicycles, but she said it was too far, and there would be dangerous traffic. All of that was true. I will continue to think, as I did at age eight, that the reasons for her refusal were purely financial and logistical. In any case, I will be eternally grateful that if racial fear did play a part in my grandmothers’ decision, she found a way not to communicate it to me. I am blessed that she and my grandfather did all they could to see that I remained colorblind.
As I often have in the past, I live in a minority area, where I am also a minority. While I waiting for this to print out for editing, I had a conversation with the librarian, a member of that local minority. We spoke of our mutual fears of becoming our mothers, and discovered we have pretty much the same desires in life. We want a good man, and a better world for our children. Our values and moral systems are also the same. This is true of all peoples and places where I have lived, and visited. Even in Cuba, a communist country, we all wanted similar things for our families and our lives. If we all play our part honorably, there is hope to eliminate racism. All we have to do is see the similarities, and rejoice in the differences.

Story ID:	3726
Written by:	Penelope Rose (bio, contact, other stories)
Organization:	Sinte Gleska University Writers Club
Story type:	Musings, Essays and Such
Location:	Mission SD USA
Year:	2005
Person:	Prose