One lovely spring day my then six and eight year old sons were playing with children we knew when they came racing in the house to tell me that something “really bad” had happened. As a mom of boys most “really bad” things in my nice-suburban-gated-community can be handled with a benevolent smile, an airing of the grievances, and instructions that both parties should apologize to each other. But what came out of my children’s mouths made the needle come scratching off the record while I stood there dumbfounded. Their story went something like this: two groups of kids started teasing each other (so far so good), things got heated (yup, par for the course), one kid decided to take some toys from my sons (lame but not terrible), they called my sons names (pretty sure my kids left out the part how they said nasty things back to the other kids in their version of the story), then they started rattling off the list of bad things the kids had said to them (usually this part puts a smile on their faces as they are “allowed” to say swear words – how naughty!). So far so good. Until they got to the part where one of the kids called my sons the “n-word.” Whaaaaaatttt?!?!?!?
Just so we are clear my kids are white. So clearly these kids had heard the term, knew it was bad, but had no idea of its actual meaning. Maybe they did know and I’m just too old and naive to get it. Whatever the reason, I was simultaneously furious that my children heard this term from one of their peers and heartbroken that they had heard this term from one of their peers. And I was speechless. The kids knew a line had been crossed and were scared. I told them we never, ever,ever use that word. I told them I was glad they told me. But that word should never pass their lips again. I told them its a word that some white people use to make black people feel bad and would they wouldn’t want to make their friends feel badly, right I went on to tell them that not only were they to never speak that word but if other people said it they should tell them to stop. Because we stick up for our friends. They were wide-eyed with their new understanding of this word. I could almost see the thought bubble over their heads “people do that?”
And just like that my kids learned about racism. And it sucked.
But the reality is with the Internet it’s not something we can shield our children from. And I think when bigotry rears its ugly head we need to be honest with our kids. And It’s not enough to not participate – it’s about telling other people to stop. That racism is shameful and wrong. Because it’s hard even for adults to be vocal and take a stand – as I reminded last week at a networking event. So we need to empower our kids as early as possible to trust their instincts and take a stand.
When I think about being brave and speaking out against bigotry I always think of this quote from Pastor Martin Niemoller about Nazi Germany:
First they came for the communists, and I did not speak out– because I was not a communist; Then they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out– because I was not a socialist; Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out– because I was not a trade unionist; Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out– because I was not a Jew; Then they came for me– and there was no one left to speak out for me”
Our kids need to know they have a voice and not be afraid to use it.
For laughter and inspiration read my book The Working Mommy's Manual, available on Amazon.
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