heartbreak

I always knew the day would come when I would have to comfort my child after someone said something to mean to him, but I never thought it would come so soon and I never thought the "mean" thing said would be quite so mean or so hurtful.

Last week, we were on vacation in Myrtle Beach. It was probably the second day there, and Jordan, my five year old, was at the pool with me, trying to make friends. He approached a little boy who appeared to be his age who was playing catch with another little boy and that boy's father. I saw Jordan approach him and went about setting up my chair for relaxing by the pool when I overheard Jordan, in his typical upbeat, but very matter-of-fact voice saying "I am white. See, my skin is a little white and a little brown, so I am brown and white, but I am white." I was perplexed. This used to be a pretty normal conversation. When Jordan was about 3 and attending a beautifully racially diverse preschool/daycare, he started noticing differences in people and he would say to complete strangers in the grocery store, "You're brown. My daddy is brown and my mommy is white. I am ____ (this changed regularly -sometimes he was white and sometimes he was brown)." But I hadn't heard a conversation like this in years and I couldn't figure out why he was having it with this little boy. So, I called Jordan over and said, "Jordan, why are you telling that little boy what color your skin is?" He replied:

Because he told me that only white people could play that game.

Yes, you read that right. And no, you don't need to check your calendar. It really is 2011. I was in shock and I wish I could say I had something very wise and meaningful to say, but instead, I took a deep breath, restrained myself from yanking the little boy out of the pool and walking him over to his parents to yell at them (because even in that moment of anger/hurt/confusion, I knew that little boy didn't just come up with that on his own), and said, "well, then, find another friend." And my little boy walked off with a very sad face. Not sad because of racial injustice, but because I told him he couldn't be friends with someone.

Later, I had another talk where I asked him if the boy made him sad and told him he never needed to explain who he was, but that if (God forbid) something like that ever happened again, he should just say, "I'm just like you - it doesn't matter what color my skin is." I've rethought that a million times. I can't think of any more appropriate thing to say to a kid his age, but when I type it, it seems very naive of me.

I have to say in that very moment, I didn't know whether to cry, yell or just hold on tight to my child, but now, I have a hard time even having emotion about it because I just can't believe it happened. Again, maybe some would call me naive, but I have to say, I have heard a lot of racist things come out of the mouths of adults in my life, but I have never, ever heard something so simplistically horrible come out of the mouth of a child. I am under no illusion that we have moved past race issues, but I really thought we were past people saying and doing things like that - and clearly, this child has learned this somewhere.

All I can say as I think about it today is - I am shocked and heartbroken that my child has to grow up in a world with people like the ones who taught this little boy something so mean.