So far in this blog I’ve written a lot about positive things
and not a lot about the things that have challenged me and helped me grow. With
the kids especially, there are times when situations arise where it’s hard to
know how to respond. There’s one in particular that sticks out in my mind that
I wish I had handled differently.
All the kids were sitting together at a table coloring. It
was Kelile’s 6th birthday. She always likes to be in the spotlight,
but on this afternoon she was positively glowing, reminding us over and over
“It’s my birthday!” and demanding special privileges (“I get to sit in the
middle because it’s my birthday, right? I don’t have to help clean up because
it’s my birthday, right?”). When her best friend Aditi walked in, Kelile burst
out, “Aditi you have to come to my birthday party!” To which one of the other
girls replied, “Aditi’s grandmother won’t let her come to your birthday party.
We are Indians, and Indians never go to black people’s birthday parties.”
[Kelile is black, Aditi is Indian].
Of course I should have said something. I remember my mouth involuntarily
dropping open. I was so shocked. I already knew this sentiment (lighter is
better, darker is worse) existed within the Indian community, hearkening back
to the British colonial period and maybe even earlier to the Aryan empire and
the advent of the caste system. But I have never heard anything so blatantly prejudiced,
especially not from the mouth of a little child.
I knew right away that this was coming from her parents. I
didn’t want to embarrass the girl in front of all the other kids by calling her
and her family racist. I didn’t want to punish her if she didn’t even know what
she was saying. And I never want to put the kids in a position where they have
to decide who to believe, me or their parents. So I didn’t say anything. All I
did was stand there gaping like a fish before clumsily trying to change the
subject.
Kelile didn’t say anything either. She just looked a little
bewildered. Normally Kelile has no problem asking a million questions when she
doesn’t understand something, but this time she just went back to her coloring
without saying a word.
I was reminded of the incident again this week while
tutoring at another after-school program where the kids are mostly Hispanic.
One of the sixth grade boys came in looking upset. “I really hate that guy,” he
said. “Who do you hate?” I asked. “Donald Trump. He hates Mexicans, he wants to
kick them out of the country. All my friends are Mexican.” It surprised me to
hear a sixth grader talking about politics. It surprised me even more to hear
the very genuine hurt in his voice. In my experience, when a sixth grade boy is
feeling hurt, he rarely lets on.
But then I really thought about what it must feel like, to
be hearing this kind of message demonizing you and your community from a major
presidential candidate. That would be bad enough. But even worse, I think,
would to hear the American people agreeing with him.
After all the kids had gone home, I found a crumpled piece
of notebook paper while I was picking up the classroom. On it someone had drawn
a gesticulating Trump in crayon with the caption “We’re building a wall.” It made
me so profoundly sad. I folded it and
put it in my pocket. It wasn’t until I got home that I noticed he had drawn around
Trump a full stick-person audience, and every one of them was wearing a big,
adoring smile.
This made me think again about Kelile’s birthday party
incident, and how I didn’t say anything when the Indian girls were talking
about refusing to associate with black people. How hurtful it must have been
for Kelile to hear that, even if she didn’t fully understand what was going on.
And how hurtful it must have been to see me letting it happen, like a smiling
stick figure at a Donald Trump rally.
Here at the monastery, the sisters gave me a calendar for
Christmas featuring quotes from famous spiritual leaders. The month of February
has a quote from Gandhi which reads, “Noncooperation with evil is as much a
duty as cooperation with good.” It’s easy to agree with that while I am sitting
in my comfy chair in the library writing this blog post, but harder to live it
out in the moment, when a tense situation presents itself. I’m glad, though,
that I have been exposed to this kind of tense situation, even if I didn’t
respond correctly at the time. I believe it is just preparation for my next
opportunity to non-cooperate with evil.
Note: I changed the kids' names in this post to be respectful of them and their privacy.
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