Skip to main content

Racism Hurts Everybody


In the last week, I have seen  this photo that's made it around facebook and heard about an acquaintance saying something about someone acting "like a typical black kid" - meaning, of course, that the child was being a troublemaker.

Obviously, these both make my heart hurt for a number of reasons.  The first thing I thought of was my Little Sister.  She is an ideal student and friend: thoughtful, caring, loyal, hard-working, and careful to think the best of everyone.  This is a girl who told me that we should give a homeless person her granola bar because the man didn't look like anyone treated him well, and everyone should be treated well, even if they're homeless.  She is also black.  I often think about what her reaction would be to either hateful racism, like this bumper sticker (and as snopes points out, whether it's real or not doesn't really matter, as you can buy plenty of products just like it online), or to ignorant racism like someone mentioning a problem child "acting like a typical black kid."

I feel like her reaction would be the same in both cases: stunned and extremely hurt.  This girl doesn't buy into stereotypes for the most part, and she understands that both she and the wild student in the corner of the room are both black but both individuals who have completely different personalities and temperaments.  When I see or hear of racism like this, I am heartbroken for my Little Sister.

However, recently, I have started thinking about the effects of this kind of racism on children who aren't black.  My almost-two year old (and extremely verbal) niece just got a doll with brown skin and black braids.  My niece is intrigued by the braids and wanted to comb the doll's hair, like she does with her other doll.  Her mom explained to her that the doll's hair was in braids so they weren't going to comb it and later told me that it impressed her that she's so little that she doesn't really know about the differences that the world believes about different kinds of people. 

My niece seems to be much like my Little Sister in many ways - very sensitive and already quite caring.  She talks about the people she loves and told a squirrel in the yard, "Have a nice weekend, squirrel!"  She likes interacting with my Little Sister and her doll with braids and has no idea that there are people in the world who would classify them differently than they would the people who look like us.  One day, my niece will also hear something either said in hatred or in ignorance about another group of people, and she will have to weigh that against what she knows.  It probably won't make a lot of sense to her.  She'll know my Little Sister who is gentle and caring, her cousin who is creative and friendly, and any number of other other people with different colors of skin, and she'll have to see that they're the target of stereotypes and discrimination.  And I think that will probably break her heart as well.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Stuffed Animals

There are several much more serious stories I was going to share, but I'm not in the mood to be made sad tonight, so I'll tell you all about the stuffed animals.  This is a post that needs images so someday when I have or borrow a working scanner, I will add the photos. A few years into teaching, I joined Freecyle.  For those of you who don't know Freecycle, it's a group of people in any given community who are on an email list to get rid of their old stuff and get stuff from other people.  It's a fabulous form of recycling. Somebody posted that they had a huge bag of stuffed animals in good condition to give away and I decided to grab it for my class. I thought that some of the kids would like the stuffed animals, but I certainly didn't think they'd all be into them.  Kids grow up really fast in that neighborhood, and when you have six-year olds talking about how they walk to school alone because their parents say they're "grown," and how

A New Prison, Part Two

  Second very long part of the prison visit report.   After we got all the paperwork filled out and went through the metal detector, we got visitation slips with the name of the inmate, and made our way over to the other building for visitation. This is not maximum security so thankfully you can just sit next to the inmates, and not be separated by glass or have to use a telephone to talk.    First, you get a gate unlocked and go into a holding pen that is of course in direct sunlight (or rain if it's that season) and surrounded by fences topped with razor wire. You wait there until the gate at the other end is unlocked. This holding pen was a little bigger and less claustrophobic than the other prison (I do not have any claustrophobia and I came very close to a panic attack once at the other place) and they opened the other gate more quickly. Then you walk, again in blazing sunlight (or rain) to the visitation building. This one was less of a walk than the other prison but I still

A Loss

  (I have been putting off finishing this blog post for months. You'll see why)  Today, I was cleaning a bookshelf and I found the journal from one of my third-grade students, who I call Fred in my book , in 2001. I still had it because he didn't come to the last day of school to get his stuff this year and I guess it got put in a pile and somehow I've kept it with me.  He didn't come to the last day of school, probably because his family was a mess: dad in prison, mom in an abusive relationship, all the kids (understandably) acting out violently. Fred was expelled from our school in second grade for hitting a teacher. Then he was expelled from the other school, I don't know why, at the end of second grade. He came back on the condition from the administration that he be in my class because I had him as a student in first grade and he listened to me and worked well with me.  We had a really good relationship, although Fred was definitely not easy to have in class.