Literal To A Fault

As I've mentioned in a previous post, A & D have had some issues with understanding race. It actually has caused some problems in their development. They didn't understand all their colors until they were in kindergarten.

D would hear that his daddy was black, but he sees his dad as he really is, not in terms that are commonly used to describe people of color. Knowing that his dad is black, all things brown are called black. Ipso facto...all things black must be brown.

Me: D, go and grab your black shoes and your backpack so we can get to school.
D returns with brown shoes and backpack.
Me: D, I said go and get your black shoes, those are brown.
D: (Very patiently with me) No, mommy...these are black.
Me: Okay, get your other black shoes then.
D: I don't have any other black shoes, I have some brown shoes though.

Let me just tell you, it usually turned into a "Who's On First" performance until I understood that he matched his shoes to his dad. He was just so confused about it. By the time he was nearing the end of kindergarten, he could name black and brown things, but it would be like, "This is black right, no brown, no black...right?" Just think of growing up your whole life thinking that cats are called dogs and then having to retrain your brain that those are in fact cats, not dogs. That's what it was like for my kids because they knew black people, weren't usually black.

They finally got their colors straightened out, but it doesn't stop the confusion as evidenced by D in The St. Patrick's Day Revelations post. When A was in 2nd grade they were doing a section in Social Studies on the Civil Rights movement. We were talking about it on the way to school one day.

A: And Rosa Parks was supposed to give up her seat on the bus!
Me: Well, there were a lot of unfair things. Not only couldn't black people keep their seats on the bus, they couldn't drink from the same drinking fountains, or eat at the same restaurants.
A: That is so sad, mommy. At least it didn't happen to anyone I know.
Me: No, you probably don't know anyone.
A: Yeah, I'm glad I don't know any black people.
Me: A! You know tons of black people.
A: Who!
Me: Um, your DAD! Your grandparents, Mrs. Smith, Jabari, Khayari....
A: WHAT!?

She was blown away and sadly, she cried a little. She argued with me a little that it couldn't be because all of these people were light brown, dark brown, or tannish. It didn't help that all the photos of it....were in black and white. I explained that during the Civil Rights leaders decided the best thing to do was to call themselves black to make it perfectly clear what exactly whites were afraid of, the color of their skin. She was disappointed they didn't choose brown, but she was also really devastated that relatives of people she knew were treated unfairly. In the beginning, to her, this happened to a group of people that she had no ties to in any way, you might as well have been telling her that this was a Civil Rights movement for monsters and dinosaurs because she didn't know any and didn't think she ever would.

Luckily, A is mostly straightened out now. D, well, I'm sure we still have work to do with him. There's lots and lots of work to do with D yet. Oh so much work....