;)
Monday
Jan182010
The War of the Roses
Monday, January 18, 2010 at 11:38AM
One day, a long time ago, my kids came home from school and asked me what the Underground Railroad was. They'd read some book in class and it just didn't make any sense to them. It just doesn't make any sense to me, either, I told them.
That was one of those moments when I had to choose between protecting my children and preparing them. I looked at those babies who never factored skin color into any equation, who I'd purposely taken out of the all white, all money school and enrolled in the 70% free and reduced lunch, 30/30/30 racially split school with the three classrooms dedicated to students with extreme needs so that they'd always know that life, she is the most beautiful rainbow, and I knew I had to make a decision. I had to let them think that the world holds hands and sing Kumbaya or I had to let them know what's real.
I chose the latter.
I sat them down and started with slavery. I moved on to emancipation. I continued to civil rights, to Dr King and Malcolm X and Rosa Parks. They wept, and I joined them. They asked, "Why, momma?" and I told them I didn't really know. I told them that some people in the world will go to any lengths to be more than, better than, others. I told them that there is a whole lot of evil in the world screaming in our ears, and it's our job to drown that out with song.
I explained to them that sometimes, weeds will grow so thick and strong in a garden that everyone can just start to accept them, even admire them. People can look at an over-run, weed infested garden and think it looks lovely and right, because that's how weeds work. They bloom flowers that look pretty and grow in patches that look appropriate and they fool the people who aren't paying attention. The truth is that they are killing everything around them, choking the ground, ruining the garden. They're hard to get rid of because the take root so deep, so fast, and spread everywhere when you're not paying attention. But sometimes, someone comes along who is paying attention. Maybe that person will plant a rose bush. That rose bush will start small, and it will struggle, but that person will tend to it and push the weeds away from it and make sure it has just enough light and air and soil, and that rose bush will slowly grow. Maybe someone else will see that rose bush, and they'll come plant another one. Maybe another person will, too. In a city of people moving together, thinking collectively, jointly blinded by what is just there and what is just easy, maybe you'll get three people who can see things for what they are, and those three people can make a rose bush grow tall and strong amid the weeds. And then one day, while everyone else was busy accepting the way things are, that rose bush has grown taller and stronger and more beautiful that anything around it, and then everyone will notice.
That doesn't mean they're going to come pull the rest of the weeds with you, but at least you've gotten their attention. At least they can see the weeds for what they are. At least you've shown them what their world could be, should be, if they just opened their eyes and ears and hearts and started digging.
That was one of those moments when I had to choose between protecting my children and preparing them. I looked at those babies who never factored skin color into any equation, who I'd purposely taken out of the all white, all money school and enrolled in the 70% free and reduced lunch, 30/30/30 racially split school with the three classrooms dedicated to students with extreme needs so that they'd always know that life, she is the most beautiful rainbow, and I knew I had to make a decision. I had to let them think that the world holds hands and sing Kumbaya or I had to let them know what's real.
I chose the latter.
I sat them down and started with slavery. I moved on to emancipation. I continued to civil rights, to Dr King and Malcolm X and Rosa Parks. They wept, and I joined them. They asked, "Why, momma?" and I told them I didn't really know. I told them that some people in the world will go to any lengths to be more than, better than, others. I told them that there is a whole lot of evil in the world screaming in our ears, and it's our job to drown that out with song.
I explained to them that sometimes, weeds will grow so thick and strong in a garden that everyone can just start to accept them, even admire them. People can look at an over-run, weed infested garden and think it looks lovely and right, because that's how weeds work. They bloom flowers that look pretty and grow in patches that look appropriate and they fool the people who aren't paying attention. The truth is that they are killing everything around them, choking the ground, ruining the garden. They're hard to get rid of because the take root so deep, so fast, and spread everywhere when you're not paying attention. But sometimes, someone comes along who is paying attention. Maybe that person will plant a rose bush. That rose bush will start small, and it will struggle, but that person will tend to it and push the weeds away from it and make sure it has just enough light and air and soil, and that rose bush will slowly grow. Maybe someone else will see that rose bush, and they'll come plant another one. Maybe another person will, too. In a city of people moving together, thinking collectively, jointly blinded by what is just there and what is just easy, maybe you'll get three people who can see things for what they are, and those three people can make a rose bush grow tall and strong amid the weeds. And then one day, while everyone else was busy accepting the way things are, that rose bush has grown taller and stronger and more beautiful that anything around it, and then everyone will notice.
That doesn't mean they're going to come pull the rest of the weeds with you, but at least you've gotten their attention. At least they can see the weeds for what they are. At least you've shown them what their world could be, should be, if they just opened their eyes and ears and hearts and started digging.
Reader Comments (50)
All that politically correct crap we've gone through, I guess it's paid off. My daughter's group is so blasee about it all - skin color? It's just another reason to write poetry. Their world isn't color blind, but more like color aware and color awe. They say things to me (the teenagers) like "I'm the Asian kid" even though the kid is as white as paper. But by golly, his grandma was Asian and even though the dna has been watered down, he's gonna claim it because that makes him cool. Different is cool. I'm totally facinated by the way they can say things to each other like "Ha! The dog's barking at you because you're black! Is you a racist dog?" And I start to grab my ears and yell "You can't say things like that - you'll get in trouble!"
But they DON'T get in trouble because Beatrice doesn't get mad. Because Beatrice knows she's the lone black girl in 10th grade and that doesn't stop her or her friends.
It's bizarre in a good way.
This morning I asked Fury if he knew who MLK was. His answer surprised me in that he said something along the lines of "he was the guy who said you don't have to fight something wrong with violence." At first, I thought it weird that he didn't bring up race and that he learned this wrong (historically), but then I realized that it was actually a good thing. Yes, MLK fought for civil rights in a racial context, but his everlasting impact transcends beyond this. And that's a good thing to understand. I think? I suck at this stuff.
Almost Six and I had a conversation on the way home from school on Friday. My favorite thing he said was
Martin Luther King started a movement. He said he would never stop the movement.
I love this weed analogy, and plan to use it in the future. Thanks for that tool.
I used to be very involved in the news & politics forums of the MySpace website (I know, sad place to get involved). Every so often, a new forum thread popped up about how wrong it is to diversify and homogenize the public schools by busing in minority students from miles away. They argue that there's no real need for doing it, that racism is a thing of the past and all the government is doing by making this happen is cause trouble for the kids who live in the immediate school district. The person who posted the thread, soon after getting responses, is usually proven to be against diversifying the schools because he or she doesn't want blacks and Hispanics going to school around their kids. If that isn't the case, the person who posted the thread ends up making the case that it's reverse discrimination.
Sadly, whatever the motivation, it still leads to the same problem: there are far, far too many children not experiencing the gift you decided to give your children. As a result, many white kids end up going to college uncomfortable around their dark skinned peers or simply end up not going to college and often either become racist due to lack of experience and, perhaps, ignorance or they don't care, at all, when racism occurs -- whether against blacks, Hispanics, Asians or even whites. More often than not, though, because of a lack of experience with people of color, a dejected person will end up blaming their rough life on the easiest scapegoat: darkie over there with that job s/he wants.
Not to say it always happens this way. It's what I fear and have seen. My wife and her daughter were raised in a home with parents who kept their eyes and minds open to diversity even though the only dark skins that roam the earth around here are tanned teenagers and the occasional Mexican migrant who doesn't really give the best impression of a common Hispanic or person of color.
I have experienced racism living here, though. I'm a rather "white" looking person and have been privy to interesting conversation about s**c this, n***er that, wetb**k that right in front of my face. I don't say a word when this happens and simply continue being a good co-worker after they realized they were talking like that in front of a Hispanic. I know it would be better to report them however people like that don't change and certain type of bosses don't tend to be all that sympathetic.
As much as we have made great strides and progressed away from our racist, tyrannic history in the U.S., the weeds are still trying to fight to snuff life out and turn back the clock on that progress. The sad thing is you're starting to see and hear it more in mass media. The weeds are starting to get restless and more boisterous. People like you and me need to ensure we instill a loud voice of reason and prosperity for all instead of the privileged few in our children and our neighbor's children. If we don't, the weeds will manage to snuff out the beautiful diversity of flowers we've planted in the garden.
It's a beautiful gift to give your children to teach them to value the person, not the skin they are wrapped in. I wish we could live in a world where it really didn't matter, but it does, and kids need to be taught.
Well done.
Damn, now I want to sing Kumbaya and hold hands with someone...
I originally had about a 500 word response typed here, but for the sake of brevity will simply say "Good post. Thanks."
Cheap way to get your kids to do yard work.
Actually, the metaphor works well here in the desert where almost anything green is adored, however buffel grass is choking out our saguaros. Meanwhile the state superintendent of education is focusing on international issues in education but vocally, emphatically resists home culture (for Blacks and Latinos and I'm guessing Indians though that has never been vocalized).
I also made the choice to get my kid in a diverse school. The minority/white ratio is 60/40 and free and reduced lunches are mid-60%. Two of my son's closest four friends speak Spanish not as a second language but alongside English as a first and another also speaks Hebrew. Makes me sad for my linguistically deprived son.
The lack of money at the school makes me wonder if I'm doing the right thing; perhaps it would be better to send my kids to a school with a librarian. I love the community though and every Wed we weed the planters to make room for the gorgeous desert adapted plants (and that's not a metaphor).
Love.
Great lesson for your kids and wonderful way to discuss what they knew in their hearts but didn't know in reality.
I live in a state that is low on the diversification. However I feel proud when my girls come home and say how angry they are that friends dont understand differences and how that is a good thing.
you are doing such a great job!
love the writing . love the parenting . xo
You know if GOD turned us all inside out... we'd be the same color...
I've tried very hard to NOT bring my children up with the bigotry and racism that I was. I remember more than I want to about a terrible, and turbulent time in our history. It is parents like you who are raising children to see a person 'not by the color of their skin but by the content of their character,' who will break that cycle of hate and ignorance.
Could you redo this in football metaphors? I'm lost because I don't garden.
Awesome analogy!
: The War of the Roses http://www.whiskeyinmysippycup.com/2010/01/18/the-war-of-the-roses/
May I borrow your metaphor to use with mine... when we're talking about any kind of evil? Please?
This was awesome, I took notes. Hope that's cool.
It's posts like this that make me want to hang up my writing shoes because, DEAR GOD, I can't even come close to saying anything this beautifully. I kind of hate you a little bit.
Also, will you be my mom?
Well played.
And my oldest shares a birthday with MLK.
I hold onto that every time she tries to drink milk through her nose.
Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. *applause*
What a beautiful post. My son is only 6, but I am trying very hard to bring him up without bigotry or hatred, to understand that no matter what color someone's skin is or whether they have the same mental and physical capabilities as you, they're all just people.
I have never been able to wrap my mind around how some people can hate so easily.
When I grow up, I want to be a Mommy like you.
Just after my son was born, when we was like, 6 days old, I carried him up the street to grab a coffee and a man stopped me, asked me what his name was, then turned to him and said, 'Boy*, make the world a better place'.
Bit of a tough call I thought, I mean shit, he is only 6 days old. But on further thinking, I came to agree with stranger man, and now I can only I hope I tend to my rose bush well.
* thats not his real name by the way. its The Boy.
very lovely.
My kids are lucky enough to go to a school where even in the first and third grade they have been extensively studying MLK. And we live in a very rural area where there really isn't a lot of variety in the people that you come across on a daily basis. I've done my best to teach my boys the history and atrocities that have befallen so many, but I've never been able to paint such an amazing picture as you have here.
this time, i want YOU to be MY mom ....
Nicely put. I know how hard that is to put that ugliness in their so innocent lives.
My son, who does know that everyone comes in different shades of color, calls himself "pale" which is a very apt description of him. He's pretty damn near transparent. He's also a very literal person.
I'm glad that you have an opportunity to be such a kick-ass teacher & mom.
Beautiful.
This was a beautiful post!
I am telling this to my kids when I want them to do the bloody gardening too. Well played madam, well played.
Absolutely beautiful post!
I don't remember the exact context, but my 6 year old son and I were talking about Obama and how he is black and my son looked at me and said, "Mom, don't be silly! He's not black, he's brown!" I love that!
Liking the garden analogy. Fully understanding history takes time - like to adulthood. So stories, facts, context of other people - all matter to children. Nicely done.
What a precious gift you've given your children! My husband and I took a driving trip down to Memphis a couple of years ago and stumbled upon these two historic sites...they are must sees if you ever get the opportunity. To say I was moved to tears at both places is an understatement!
http://www.civilrightsmuseum.org/home.htm
http://www.memphistravel.com/attractions/default.aspx?id=141
What a precious gift you’ve given your children! My husband and I took a driving trip down to Memphis a couple of years ago and stumbled upon these two historic sites… The Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Hotel and the Slave Haven Museum are must sees if you ever get the opportunity. They both have websites and are easily google-able.
To say I was moved to tears at both places is an understatement!
I live in the heart of conservative America (north of your new location but close enough that I'm sure you can relate to the ideals) and I truly didn't know racism and close mindedness existed here until I lived her about 3 years. Being raised a military brat, you HAD to accept everyone and I was fortunate to have parents who taught acceptance not hate. I have tried to raise my children with the same values of acceptance, empathy, and open mindedness - to not judge the person on their color but their value as a human being. When I watched my 14 year old daughter cry as Obama was announced our president, I knew I had succeeded.
Like many others who commented before me, I want you to be my mommy! Or, barring that, can I just have a massive girl crush on you????
Your words made me think, and think hard, about how much MORE I should be doing with my children to combat the extreme racism and ignorance in my own tiny pocket of the world. Thank you, so very much, for sharing this.
I struggle with the PC stuff all the time. And my kids are only 4 and 2. Loved your 'inch by inch, row by row' reference - got me singin!
Very nice. Kiddo came home and talked abut MLK. It was cool.
Sometimes it's hard to explain things to my kids, things that I don't truly understand. But I do. Because I'm convinced it's better to be honest (I draw the line at Santa. Am using that one for as long as I can.) than to lie.
Great post.
What a wonderful lesson to give your children! Everyone should have a caring parent to teach their children that way and maybe we wouldn't have as many problems with colors.
This was the most fantastic thing I have read in weeks. Thank you.
I just loved this post. Happy Belated MLK: http://www.whiskeyinmysippycup.com/2010/01/18/the-war-of-the-roses/
An extremely moving post.
And I think you're lucky - or they are lucky - to have the opportunity of a school that is pretty evenly mixed.
My children go to a school where the students are predominantly european white. In each of their classes there is 1 black child, 1 indian/pakistani child and 1 japanese child. It's almost like a token intake. But it's just indicative of the local area. A school down the road in the next suburb would be over 60% black to european.
I would rather a greater mix in my children's classes so that it reinforces the idea that everyone is different - not that "we're all the same, and those three are different."
Absolutely awesome... you're a wonderful parent you know.
So that's how you get them to do yard work?
(This is beautiful. I'm stealing it when the time comes.)
Great blog post @mrlady! The War of the Roses http://viigo.im/295z
I just wanted to stop and say hello - this is my first time to your blog and after reading just a few posts I know I'll probably be following you for a long time - you write very elegantly!
Also, I 100% support your decision to tell your kids the truth - It makes me pretty sick how history is dumbed down for students even up through the high school level. Personally, I think knowing about our country's history and having formed your own views and opinions on it and present happenings is something that shapes who people are. How can children grow up being honest if we are not honest with them about where we have come from and where we are going?
Okay. I'm catching up over here and I'm stealing your weed analogy for when I need it. I hope that's cool.
This right here --
"I told them that there is a whole lot of evil in the world screaming in our ears, and it’s our job to drown that out with song."
-- is exactly it.
This was perfect. What a great way to raise your children-if only everyone did it. I always wished I lived in a more diverse community, but unfortunately we do not. My son has one asian friend and he makes more jokes about being asian than anyone. We appreciate it and recognize that it's probably harder for him than we know.
Could I have your number so I can call you anytime my son asks me about anything outside of how to play a particular game or how to fold a shirt?
Thanks!
Loved this very much. And I know what you mean. I'd love for my children to grow up without knowing that there are those who choose to view others as less because of what they look like or believe or love.
But they need to know how hard the fight has been and how far we still have to go.