Every since Jack was a little boy, he has been obsessed with superheroes. His ability to remember each name, power, and nemesis has carried over year after year as he's built his knowledge of all things super. Most nights he dreams about being the hero- saving others from the bad guys and rescuing his family from peril. He so desperately wants these stories to be real and wants to be the shining star in his own cinematic universe.
Little does he know he possesses a rare quality that allows him to stand tall amongst these other heroes. He cannot fly or shoot webs. He doesn't have super strength or a cape. But he does have the power of truth. This innate sense to be honest, all of the time, even when it puts himself in the line of fire. He simply can't help it.
We have now had two incidents when Jack relayed to me something one of his teachers has said. Two moments that have brought whatever I was doing to a screeching halt, causing me to take a deep breath before further questioning. Two moments I keep replaying over and over, struggling to find the correct course of response.
The first happened a few months back at his last preschool. While driving home from school, Jack began to tell me that two of his friends who are girls were playing dress up and pretending to get married. The teacher (whom I was never fond of anyways) made them stop playing and told the class that girls can't marry girls and boys can't marry boys because it's gross. I was livid. I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks and a million thoughts raced through my mind. But in those few seconds, I looked back at Jack and could see him waiting for a response. He was looking for an answer, looking for Mommy to explain.
Up until this point, we had never had an in-depth conversation on this topic. He is only 5. Plus, I felt the way we lived our lives and the lovely, diverse people we surrounded ourselves with would speak louder than words. But in this moment I could tell his teacher's words were more powerful. I spoke honestly with him. Told him that every person believes differently but that in our house, in our family, we believed each person is entitled to love whomever they love. Girls can marry girls, boys can marry boys, and girls can marry boys. It doesn't matter. What matters is being a good, kind person who treats everyone with respect.
I believe he understood on a very basic level. I could tell he was feeling something, but he wouldn't express it. My guess is that he was confused as to why his teacher and Mommy weren't on the same page. We previously have spent so much time ensuring the kids listen and respect their teachers, yet here I was telling him that his teacher was wrong.
I decided not to address this with the school. We were just a week or two away from moving and I wasn't sure beginning this debate on our way out would be beneficial. So I let it lay. Making a mark on my motherhood chart of moments to remember and revisit when needed.
Fast forward to this morning. We were racing through our typical morning routine when Jack pointed out that we had different skin colors. His is more yellow and Mommy's is more pink, as he described. On the way to the bathroom, I hurriedly said that we all have different skin colors and that's part of what makes each of us special. Jack then told me that last week at school they were reading a book and his teacher said that people with white skin and people with brown skin can't be together. WHAT? Again, I paused for a moment- processing what he said and how to appropriately react. After I took a breath, I asked him for more details. I wanted to make sure that what he was saying and what I was processing were the same thing. He repeated the same story, that his teacher had said that people with different color skin can't be together.
I felt livid again, but also a bit defeated. Here we are, dealing with two major examples of discrimination in a six month period. Why can't kids be kids? Why are adults saying these sorts of things to children and why is my five year old having to process these very complex societal issues at such a young age?
Our talk partially mirrored the last conversation, but this time I made sure Lily was part of the discussion as well. Ultimately, I made them repeat a phrase over and over and over, "It doesn't matter the color of your skin or who you love, as long as you're a good person".
I find myself wavering back and forth on how to handle this. The advocate in me wants to march into school and scold that teacher for placing her ignorance onto a group of children. I want to stand up and shout as loud as I can. But Jack begged me not to. He said he was scared that the teacher would be mad at him. And I knew in my heart that I couldn't tell him he was wrong. The likelihood of this teacher being punished was slim to none. So then what?
The reality is that both of my kiddos are growing up in a changing world. Nobody can turn a blind eye to the blazing wars of discrimination that are burning down this country. We can't pretend this doesn't exist. But I also can't battle every person who attempts to fill my kids head with hate. I can walk into the school and speak my peace. But at the end of the day, the only difference that can be made is the one I hand out at home. All I can truly do is speak love and acceptance into their hearts and fill them with so much respect and empathy that they will know right from wrong when they hear it.
I don't have a superpower. Motherhood doesn't come with a cape or magic wand to shield the ones you love. I may never possess anything more or less than the next mother out here doing her best. But I will instill in my children the importance of love. And acceptance. And compassion. No matter what.
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