Monday, October 4, 2010
Everyone loaded in the car they began their drive out of the neighborhood. The youngest of the three children sat in the back seat opposite her mother, just lost somewhere out the window. “Lynn, what are you looking at?” her mother asked, “isn’t that where your new friend Pete lives?”
The child’s eyes lit up with joy, “Yes mommy and there he is!” she exclaimed and began to wave frankly as the car drove past. The small young boy playing in his yard did not see the car as it drove past, he did not wave back.
”That is your new friend?” the mother asked. “Yes, mommy he is in my class and we walk home from school together,” her youngest said proudly. “Lynn, you did not tell me he was black,” the mother said sort of matter-of-factly. To this Lynn looked her mother straight in the eye and responded…
”Mother, he is not black. He is from Chicago.”
The mother just laughed, she had done her job.
This is a true tale of my younger sister; she actually said this to my mother. I relate this story to you because my siblings and I were not raised to be prejudice or to bully. In fact we were taught to stand up for those whom are perceived as different. Not that being black is different, it is just my personal story to illustrate how even the obvious difference we were taught not to see.
My question to you; how do we make children realize that being different is not a disease? That not understanding only means we still have room for knowledge? That we all are worthy of understanding and most of all love?
Sorry, still sick and this bullying thing just struck a chord in me. I’ll try to get around to all your blogs today but my head still weighs 5 tons.