Parenting and Preconceived Notions

"Mommy?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"When I grow up I'm going to marry John."

We were driving, running errands while her big sister was at school. There is one month between Chica starting school and Bug starting school. Sometimes that month can seem v-e-e-e-e-r-y l-o-o-o-o-n-g. But I mainly soak up this special time with just the two of us. She has my undivided attention, no big sister to steal her spotlight. We talk about a lot of things. And just like on many of our car rides, her small voice piped up from the backseat. A seemingly innocent assertion, but one that opened a door to a greater conversation.

I've spent a lot of time thinking recently. About many things, but largely on parenting. My parenting. In today's culture. Our society certainly doesn't make it easy. But perhaps that is what every parent thinks during their season in history. We've seen so many setbacks and victories in the past few years, and it's telling about how our culture is moving, growing and remaining stagnant.

My own mind has experienced many setbacks and victories during these years as well. I've learned that my beliefs, my perspectives, are less permanent than I originally thought. That, really, they are quite viscous, ebbing and flowing, taking new shapes as they encounter new pieces of information. Over the years I've examined myself inside and out (a well-examined life, one might say), challenging the notions that are the bricks and mortars of my worldview.

Children are pliable creatures, sponges soaking up all things. In my examinations of self, I realized that the building blocks of my thoughts about life were constructed before I was actually conscious of most things regarding life. It starts with watching the world around as small children, listening to conversations, particularly from the primary people in our life. Our parents.

This realization struck me hard. As I've challenged my ways of thinking, turning them over to decide what is right, what is good, I see that what I'm actually fighting against are the preconceived notion building blocks set up during childhood by my parents and other trusted adults. Growing up, community was almost entirely caucasian. How those of different skin colors were regarded, described and treated were little building blocks set in mortar. My notions, stereotypes, prejudices and beliefs about race were formed.

I grew up for the first part of my life in a home where my parents, a man and a woman, were married. This is what was normal to me, what I was encouraged to anticipate some day. "One day you'll meet a prince and you'll get married!" My Barbies were always paired with Kens. So, I naturally believed and sought to marry a man, who was most likely white, one day when I was old enough. There were building blocks forming my notions, stereotypes, prejudices and beliefs about relationships.

I had the privilege of a stay-at-home mom when I was young. Her presence was always there, which was a comfort. As this was my basis for normal, it never occurred to me that women could 1) choose not to have children and 2) could work outside of the home. My parents never drilled this, and of course taught me to be industrious and motivated. But my experienced told me girls grew up into women who got married, had children and became homemakers. This was a notion that haunted me during the first few years of my own transition to motherhood. Because although it was never said to me, it felt wrong for me to do anything other than be a stay-at-home mom. Yet I felt so unsettled and struggled a great deal with identity.

While children are pliable, sponge-like beings, we become more rigid and calcified as we grow. Building blocks placed in wet mortar harden and set. As an adult, examining and challenging these foundations has been frustrating. My black and white understanding of race, of gender, of relationship, of equality started turning hazy and grey. My foundation felt unstable. Having kids only pushed me to challenge further. Because my worldview no longer impacted only me; it now impacted my daughters.

So what does one do when they face firm walls that need to be rearranged? They work to break them down, piece by piece. Which is how I've spent the last few years of my life. Every news story provided an opportunity: every presidential race, every marriage law passed, every racial injustice headline written, every mass shooting covered, every technological advance made, I have a chance to take what I know and challenge it.

On this journey, I've also come to realize the weightiness of words. If I tell my daughter that one day she'll grow up and marry a man and become a mommy, I'm placing preconceived notion building blocks about love and relationships into wet mortar. The way I choose to refer to someone of a different skin color, a different ethnicity than me within their ear shot will mold their understanding of race. If I allow myself to berate my looks or comment on my weight in front of my girls, they will store this away as appropriate self-worth.

Building walls.

Brick by brick.

My children will inevitably make big life decisions some day. Perhaps my daughter will choose to never get married. Maybe she'll marry a man they love. He may be white. Or Asian. Or brown. Or martian. Maybe she'll marry a woman. Maybe she'll opt to be a stay-at-home mom. Perhaps she'll choose to a career outside of the home. She may decide to not have kids at all.

When it all comes down to it, what is normal? What is right? What is good?

Regardless of the decisions my sweet girls make, they will stand firm in the knowledge that we love them, support them and do not judge them. They will not suffer from the internal guilt or quietly bear the agony that comes from feeling like they've disappointed their parents due to whatever path they've chosen in life.

So, I choose my words and reactions carefully. I allow conversations to play out. I ask questions. I work hard to be open-ended, transparent and accepting. And, above all, I make sure they know they are loved.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"When I grow up I'm going to marry John. And when I grow up I'm going to have babies."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm going to be a mommy too."

"Well, I think you'd make a great mommy if that's what you choose."

In the rearview mirror, I see her brow furrow, and I brace myself for where the conversation will go next.

"And I'll let my kids eat snack all. day. long."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yep! They can have anything they want."

"I see where this is going."

"All day. Whatever they want."

"I'm guessing you wish I gave you more snacks."

::Side-eye::

::shrug::

"Well, I love you, little snack monster."

"Love you too, Mom."


Life Lesson #5271: deep, life-changing lessons come in all shapes and sizes.

Race and Perspective: Putting On Different Shoes

"Can't they just get over it already?"

It's a sentiment I've seen flying around, in various forms, over social media as people process the the recent non-indictments of Darren Wilson and Daniel Panteleo. Two recent instances of unarmed black men dying at the hands of white police officers. Two of many instances throughout history, building to these two fateful summer days when two black men met their fate in the form of law enforcement. The initial instances sparked unrest and protests, a flame only fanned when these officers were not indicted by grand juries for their actions.

The past few months have flooded social media with public conversations on the issue of race. I've participated in very civil discussions on the matter as well as mud-slinging rodeos that attempted to call themselves "dialogues." Some people don't agree with the idea of having these discussions in arenas like Facebook or Twitter. But I've engaged these social media conversations because, if not there, then where?

I am the first to admit that my life could use more diversity. Whose couldn't? As a result, many of my circles are overwhelmingly white. And as these conversations have unfolded, I've been quite surprised by the responses and statements I've seen conveyed by my white peers. As they process the media coverage of crime scenes, of news reports, of coroner findings, of peaceful protests, of groups of people expressing their anger through rioting and looting, there is a general sense of, "I just don't get it."

"Don't they realize that hurting their own communities doesn't change anything?"

"There they go, playing the Race Card again."

"Slavery?" ::eyeroll:: "Aren't we past that?"

"By looting stores and burning buildings, they aren't helping their reputation."

"If they don't want to get shot by cops, they shouldn't keep committing crimes."

They. They. They.

I think the thing WE fail to see as white Americans is the Bigger Picture. People aren't expressing anger over "just" Michael Brown. The water didn't start to suddenly boil over after the death of Eric Garner. It is the days upon weeks upon months upon years upon decades of discrimination and disenfranchisement that people of color have faced in this country. Discrimination and disenfranchisement that we, as white people, have never known. 

I often get the eye roll when I bring up slavery. Another exasperated comment of, "Can't we just let it go and move on?"

And, friends?

No, we can't.

Because as we look at the anger, frustration and fear our fellow Americans of color are feeling and expressing right now, we have to ask WHY. 

WHY?

And to answer that, we need to peel back the layers. We need to start at the very beginning. When Europeans came to this country, it was as explorers. It was at an advantage. They had power. They ruled. They called the shots. When Africans came to this country, it was as slaves. It was as a subservient creature that existed solely for the purpose of accommodating the needs and whims of white Americans. We all know the long, agonizing history African Americans faced in this new country. Their struggle toward Emancipation. 

But abolishing slavery did not quickly mean that black Americans were on level ground with white Americans. Let us remember Jim Crow, Separate but Equal, and the battle to Desegregate. Yet even as we made these small steps of progress, it was never enough to penetrate the collective psyche regarding race in America.

Because even in recent history, we are faced with harsh race realities:

- People of color make up 30% of the population, but make up 60% of the prison population.

- People of color experience housing discrimination 4 million times per year.

- Students of color are more likely to be retained in school and face disproportionate levels of discipline as compared to their white peers.

- People of color experience higher rates of arrest for selling or using illegal drugs, but are no more likely to use or sell drugs than whites.

- People of color receive sentences that are 10% longer than white offenders.

The list goes on.

So as we watch the protests, the demonstration and, yes, the looting, we have to broaden our scope. We have to make the very important decision to step out of ourselves and put on their shoes. Then we need to walk a mile in those shoes. We need to imagine, for a moment, that the universe was reversed. And their history was our history. That this was our story. That those who experienced slavery and segregation not so long ago were members of our families. That this discrimination was our daily cross to bear. That the lives being lost were our sons, our fathers. 

And then wash-rinse-repeat. 

Over.

And over.

And over again.

If this tale of discrimination was our story, we wouldn't just let it go. We couldn't just move on.

Because every time we wake in the morning, and our eyes open to sunlight, we would brace ourselves for another day of marginalization. We would wake to a country that isn't representative of us, a society where opportunities are not the same, a community where our life experience is still separate. 

Perhaps one day, like a slowly-expanding balloon, we too would pop. 

Is every form of frustration being expressed acceptable? 

Absolutely not. 

But it's understandable.

I know that you may not agree with what I am saying. And that's okay. Because I feel the important thing right now is to be talking about it. We need to stop treating the discussion of race in the public arena like the faux pas of bringing up politics and money at a dinner party. 

We need to listen to the experiences of our fellow Americans of color.

We need to diversify our worldview. 

We need to be open to being wrong.

We need to own the history of America and accept it's faults.

We need to be willing to change our perspective. 

And above all, we need to ask why.

*****

I've love to continue and engage this discussion - in a respectful and civil manner. 

So, comments are open. 

Please don't abuse them.

Talking to Kids About Race {Guest Post}

A friend of mine (who also blogs) (and also has a preschooler and a baby) will be sharing 2 posts that she created for a seminary class around the topic of talking to our kids about race.  In light of some of my recent thoughts and posts, I felt it was timely and a good discussion to be having.  I'd love for you to weigh in, give your thoughts, and share!


Today will be Melissa's first post about WHY it's important to talk to kids about race.

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Why Talk To Kids About Race?

Thanks to Steph for letting me post on her blog!  I should start of by saying I'm not an expert on children and race. I'm a seminarian at Princeton Theological Seminary and a parent of a preschooler and an infant. The information I share below is part of a project I did for a class on critical race theory. I wanted a resource for talking to my children about differences in skin color so I put together this guide.


I'll be sharing this information in two posts. The first, why it's important to talk to your kids about race. The second, how to talk to your kids about race.


Why do we have to talk about race with our children? 
Attitudes about race and ethnicity begin forming early on. We get information for these judgments both directly and indirectly. Children see the way race plays out among teachers, friends, parents' friends, doctors, nurses, wait staff, house cleaners, the unemployed, and the homeless. By age twelve their attitudes about race are primarily set. Providing a safe place for our children to explore issues of race is an important part of starting this formation in the right way.


Why do we have to start so young? 
Children begin to notice physical differences from birth (studies show that babies as young as six-months old can discriminate on the basis of skin color!). Rebecca Bigler concludes from her studies conducted at the University of Texas - Austin that children are prone to in-group favoritism. Children naturally make sense of their world through categorization, and they most heavily rely on visual cues. This is a natural part of their development, and children will process their self-identification by identifying what defines them as "good" and what defines the differences of others as "bad." 


By the time children are five years old they begin to place value judgments on these categories of difference and similarity. This is a crucial period in the development of attitudes about difference. Children between ages five and eight are old enough to think about more complex ideas such as race but still young enough to be flexible about these beliefs. By the time children are in fourth grade their racial attitudes are much more rigid and difficult to change.


Isn't it better to ignore race differences and encourage children to be color-blind? 
All physical human differences, including race, are clearly visible to children. If we don't talk about race with our children they will begin making judgments on their own. "Bigler contends that children extend their shared appearances much further—believing that those who look similar to them enjoy the same things they do. Anything a child doesn't like thus belongs to those who look the least similar to him. The spontaneous tendency to assume your group shares characteristics—such as niceness, or smarts—is called essentialism." 


An important study by Phyllis Katz, then at the University of Colorado, looked at 100 white and 100 black three-year olds to discover how they think about race: 


Katz showed them photographs of other children and asked them to choose whom they'd like to have as friends. Of the white children, 86 percent picked children of their own race. When the kids were 5 and 6, Katz gave these children a small deck of cards, with drawings of people on them. Katz told the children to sort the cards into two piles any way they wanted. Only 16 percent of the kids used gender to split the piles. But 68 percent of the kids used race to split the cards, without any prompting. In reporting her findings, Katz concluded: "I think it is fair to say that at no point in the study did the children exhibit the Rousseau type of color-blindness that many adults expect." 


Color-blindness is a myth and starting with premise can lead to harmful racialized attitudes later in life. 


In my next post I'll share some guidelines for talking about race with your preschool-aged children.

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What do YOU think? Do you feel it's important to talk to kids about race? How do you, as a parent, handle the subject?

Leave a comment - we'd love to hear your thoughts!

And thanks Melissa - we look forward to Post #2!