My oldest son overheard me angrily telling his father, “Another shooting of an unarmed black man in the news” and instantly wanted to know what we were talking about. I shushed him and sent him back to bed, telling myself that a 7-year-old should be protected from the news. Except I knew many boys can’t be shielded from this reality. Their very lives depend on this conversation. Not talking to my son about the killing of Keith Lamont Scott is white privilege. I need to be talking to my white children about racism or nothing will ever change.
“Some problems we share as women, some we do not. You fear your children will grow up to join the patriarchy and testify against you, we fear our children will be dragged from a car and shot down in the street, and you will turn your backs upon the reasons they are dying.” – Audre Lorde
On Monday, I read heartbreaking words from a father on my Facebook timeline. He said he needed to figure out how to tell his 12-year-old black son why he couldn’t play with airsoft toy guns outside with his white friends. I’ve only worried that toy guns would encourage my white sons to be violent. Somewhere a mother is explaining to her black son why he can’t carry large objects in his pockets that might look like a weapon – candy, soda, cell phones, books. I tell my sons to empty their pockets before they put clothes in the wash, so nothing gets ruined. This morning, a black boy walking to school probably saw a police car and felt instinctive fear. My sons see a police officer every morning walking to school and eagerly wave while calling out, “Police car! It’s a police car!”
My children’s lives are overflowing with white privilege. We live in a small, Iowa town with very few “bad neighborhoods” in a large, comfortable home. We walk safely to school every morning and wave at the passing cars, whose passengers return the greeting. Their father is fluent in Spanish and works as an immigration lawyer. This midwestern community is unique, with its abundance of latino stores, bakeries, and restaurants. Around 40% of the kids at their school have Spanish-speaking family members and many are first or second generation Americans. This is normal for my kids, but it doesn’t make them magically without prejudice and it doesn’t mean they are aware of the racism their friends face daily in this idyllic place.
“Race affects real people in real time, and by claiming “color-blindness,” we become complicit in the very systems we allege to object to. Take it from someone who has spent two decades unlearning my “color-blindness.” – Bree Ervin.
I can fool myself by celebrating that my children are color blind. Last week, my 5-year-old played with a latino boy next door and a Filipino-American boy from school. He didn’t know, nor did he care, that his friends have different skin colors. Their kindergarten utopia is tempting; I want to declare that we should all follow their lead to find peace. Except they will grow out of colorblindness, learning about racial differences in the million subtle (and not so subtle) ways prejudice permeates our society. Colorblindness also allows my son to erase painful history that influences our culture today and to participate in implicit racism. My son will have the luxury of being colorblind. His friends will not.
My son will have the luxury of being colorblind. His friends will not.
A black mother fears her son will grow up and be shot by a white officer. I fear that my son will grow up to be that white officer.
I can not change things if I sit in my safe place and simply share my outrage on social media. I don’t think of myself as racist. I teach my kids to value everyone and to not judge based on race. But it’s not enough to simply have nice conversations about being colorblind. If I want my kids to grow up in a different world, if I want them to change their world, they have to understand the world as it is now.
If I want my kids to grow up in a different world, if I want them to change their world, they have to understand the world as it is now.
I’m clearly ill-equipped to tackle this on my own. I am not unaffected by systematic racism and prejudice; I am certain I unwittingly participate in it daily. I am not an expert on child development and this needs to be an age-appropriate, developing conversation. So, I’m going to have to learn alongside them. Owning my privilege does not mean sitting in guilt or feeling helpless. It means educating myself, listening, leaning into my discomfort, listening again, and changing.
5 Resources for Talking to My White Children About Racism
Black Girl Dangerous: 4 Things We Should All Teach Kids About Racism Right Now. Mia Mackenzie helps parents tackle racism in real and meaningful ways.
Raising Race Conscious Children. This website has a wealth of resources for helping children understand racism and work toward racial justice.
Everyday Feminism: 5 Reasons We All Need to Talk to Kids About Race in America. This article addresses how not talking about race can lead to implicit racism.
Aha! Parenting: Talking to Children About Racism, Police Brutality and Protests. Dr. Laura walks parents through age-appropriate discussions, from toddlers to teens.
Slate: Teaching Tolerance: How White Parents Should Talk to Their Young Kids About Race. This resource talks about in-group bias and how even young children develop it.
The benefit/downside of being a home schooled parent, you really can’t avoid these topics. Trying to talk to my kids about the Great Migration from the south up to Chicago and it’s impossible not to mention slavery, racism, refugees. The looks on their faces, it’s awful, but let’s face it… It’s AWFUL. I don’t go into detail, but at some point they have to know life isn’t 100% sweetness.
Good thoughts, well written. My mom generally didn’t avoid these kinds of conversations, no matter my age; and as an adult sometimes I feel my mom shared too much with me at a young age, but most of the time, I think what she shared, even if it was raw, was appropriate. It was stuff I needed to know and it helped me become (I hope) a more understanding, empathetic person. I think sometimes we forget that kids are people, having an earthy experience, just as we are, and if we shield them too much from pain or reality we can stunt their growth. We learn from pain. We even learn from things we don’t completely understand. I’m not saying that graphic, unnecessary details need to be included in every enlightening conversation we have with them, but then again, sometimes I think a certain about of those details can still be learning tools. It’s definitely a balancing act.