Race Rising

This morning Kyle woke up early and was cuddling in bed with Braydon and I. It was just barely dawn when he first got into bed with us, we were dozing in and out of sleep, and it was silent in the house. We laid there like that for about 40 minutes. About 20 minutes into it Kyle broke the silence and said, "Mommy, there is someone else at my school with brown skin just like me."

It goes without saying that school decisions for families like ours are even more complicated than for most families (and for most families they are complicated enough to begin with). Braydon and I agonize over the research studies on black boys and education, we agonize over the options (or lack thereof) and we agonize over the prospects. It doesn't help that I know way too much about these subjects given my areas of focus within sociology. River Valley Waldorf School, where the boys are currently attending pre-school, is predominantly white. While it does have a bit of racial and ethnic diversity, K & O definitely stand out. Most of the non-white kids are not as dark-skinned as K & O. There are some Middle Eastern families, a few Asian and Hispanic/Latino folks, and a number of bi-racial (including black-white) kids in the school community. But from what we've seen, there is only one other family with skin as dark as, or darker than, K & O's. The daughter is in the kindergarten class, and although we've never met them we've seen them at school events and at pick-up and drop-off. I have conscientiously made a point of not pointing the little girl out to K & O. This is unusual for me because I tend to point these sorts of things out to them, casually mention race, and raise our family discussions about race on a very regular basis. But I have purposefully not wanted to do that at their school because I've been purposefully waiting for them to bring it up themselves when they are ready. We want their school to be their school -- a place that is their own social arena -- and so I've not wanted to put anything on it that might not be there organically for them. So, this morning's very poignant statement from Kyle is the first in-road to what will surely be many discussions about race-and/in-school for many years to come. Lying there in bed with the sun rising outside I had that sense (a sense that is somehow becoming familiar) that my boy was telling me something that was very important in that moment. Important in what ways? That is not at all clear. But important. Both important, and important to him. I had been waiting for this moment.

"Yes," I said, snuggling him closer, "I've seen her, she has beautiful brown skin just like you and Owen." He nodded, his thumb in his mouth, his honey bunny tight up to his face. "What is her name?" he asked. I said, "I don't know her name. Do you know her name?" And he said, "No." I said, "Is she in Miss Annie's class?" He nodded. "Well, next time you see her you should ask her, you can say, 'What is your name?'" He laid there, still. I said, "Ky Ky, do you want me to ask her for you?" He nodded vigorously. "O.k., I said. That's our plan. Next time we see her at your school I will ask her what her name is." "O.k." he said, satisfied. I said, "I think that girl is so pretty. And Ky Ky, I love your beautiful brown skin. I just love your skin." He smiled and cuddled closer. And then we all laid there, in the silence, until Owen woke up a while later and we started the day.