When my daughter was little, she had a friend at preschool from Africa who had the most beautiful blue-black skin. She asked me why her skin was that color. I too froze... whatever was going to come out of my mouth would define my daughter's view of others (no pressure!). In a moment of divine inspiration, I told her that people were like flowers in a garden - different colors, sizes, and shapes but all of them were beautiful. She said, oh okay, and went off to play with her friend. <3
I definitely see shades of skin color, just as I see differences in hair and eye color, or build, or height, etc. If not, how could I tell one friend from another? As I age, one of my worst fears is no longer being able to distinguish my wife, and others I know and love, from others in a crowd. At 73, with diminished sight, hearing, mobility, and mental acuity, I need every clue I can possibly perceive, to stay connected. Maintaining connections gets harder as one ages. I love to make new friends; as an aging introvert with chronic depression, I sometimes need every positive social connection I make. Yes, I might notice you are a 6’ tall skinny lady with dark skin and a wonderful smile and caring demeanor, (which I would highly value, especially if you are an alto), but that just means I wouldn’t confuse you with my 5’ tall white Italian wife who cannot carry a tune in a bucket (but also incredibly valued for having been faithfully married to for 50 years, and cooks like a 5* chef). If love and/or compassion are in your heart, I am exceedingly glad to call you friend individually! Denying differences for “political correctness” is stupidity; embracing differences with love is mutually empowering!
AMEN!! Holland is a bright young girl, and Ms Cynthia is brilliant!! I absolutely love her response and I’m going to use it as well from now on. Thank you for sharing this important story.
Not to be disagreeable, buy my sister-in-law is a super-whitey who teaches kindergarten to … er … “city kids” … in Pittsburgh. She’s got red hair and blue eyes. One day my brother visited her class … he was also a whitey. The next day the kids told her, “You got a white husband.” When she advised them she is white too, one kid responded, “Nah, you just light skinned.”
Of course children see color. What they don’t see is race nor that skin color has meaning. They don’t see the social implications that skin color as an indicator of race has. The anxiety that comes from the parent upon hearing her child ask a simple question seems to be the problem because it reflects the parent’s discomfort about race and risks projecting that anxiety to the child. There is no need to be embarrassed. Cynthia’s response is wise, but it’s not an act of genius or original— it’s probably what all parents tell their children when their children notice differences between people: we are all made different. And there is no need to give a young child a lesson on race relations… that comes later.
When my daughter was little, she had a friend at preschool from Africa who had the most beautiful blue-black skin. She asked me why her skin was that color. I too froze... whatever was going to come out of my mouth would define my daughter's view of others (no pressure!). In a moment of divine inspiration, I told her that people were like flowers in a garden - different colors, sizes, and shapes but all of them were beautiful. She said, oh okay, and went off to play with her friend. <3
That is a beautiful comment.It is a great way to think of people imo.
I definitely see shades of skin color, just as I see differences in hair and eye color, or build, or height, etc. If not, how could I tell one friend from another? As I age, one of my worst fears is no longer being able to distinguish my wife, and others I know and love, from others in a crowd. At 73, with diminished sight, hearing, mobility, and mental acuity, I need every clue I can possibly perceive, to stay connected. Maintaining connections gets harder as one ages. I love to make new friends; as an aging introvert with chronic depression, I sometimes need every positive social connection I make. Yes, I might notice you are a 6’ tall skinny lady with dark skin and a wonderful smile and caring demeanor, (which I would highly value, especially if you are an alto), but that just means I wouldn’t confuse you with my 5’ tall white Italian wife who cannot carry a tune in a bucket (but also incredibly valued for having been faithfully married to for 50 years, and cooks like a 5* chef). If love and/or compassion are in your heart, I am exceedingly glad to call you friend individually! Denying differences for “political correctness” is stupidity; embracing differences with love is mutually empowering!
Love this. I'm so glad I found you on substack
This is where peace begins. Spread the word.
AMEN!! Holland is a bright young girl, and Ms Cynthia is brilliant!! I absolutely love her response and I’m going to use it as well from now on. Thank you for sharing this important story.
I’m sorry this article is tragic in so many ways. Your using your daughters natural curiosity to promote a “racism” narrative
Really, now?
Yeah Really
Just when I thought I couldn’t love you more!
Not to be disagreeable, buy my sister-in-law is a super-whitey who teaches kindergarten to … er … “city kids” … in Pittsburgh. She’s got red hair and blue eyes. One day my brother visited her class … he was also a whitey. The next day the kids told her, “You got a white husband.” When she advised them she is white too, one kid responded, “Nah, you just light skinned.”
Of course they see skin color, but color doesn’t matter to their hearts!
Of course children see color. What they don’t see is race nor that skin color has meaning. They don’t see the social implications that skin color as an indicator of race has. The anxiety that comes from the parent upon hearing her child ask a simple question seems to be the problem because it reflects the parent’s discomfort about race and risks projecting that anxiety to the child. There is no need to be embarrassed. Cynthia’s response is wise, but it’s not an act of genius or original— it’s probably what all parents tell their children when their children notice differences between people: we are all made different. And there is no need to give a young child a lesson on race relations… that comes later.
The Waffle House has found its new hostess
What a beautiful story. Thank you, MK for your clear, meaningful writings. I look forward to them! ❤️