In my post last month, “When Longing Becomes Reality,” I wrote about our family’s move from the Phoenix area to a small town along California’s Central Coast.
Our little slice of Americana is rural and cute. It is so small that it is actually not even a town, but rather a “census designated area.” We don’t even have a dedicated police department – but I hear the California Highway Patrol will arrive if I dial 911. The population here is a mere 7,000+ … the same population as our entire master planned community in the Phoenix area. We literally have a “Main Street” which is full of local business and gets adorned with numerous American flags for the traditional 4th of July Parade, and high school flags for Friday night football. It is so small, I can walk from the school
We’ve met some very nice families here and wonderful women who have embraced me as the “newbie.” We joined a great church and are getting involved. Our family has great potential to participate in a lot of activities and community events. I am now a Soccer Mom and a PTO Mom!
Our school district is reported to be the best in the entire county and we love our kids’ teachers. Our community is proud of its identity and our schools. People wear shirts, hats, jackets with the name of our community and schools. We have more than just “school spirit” … we have “community spirit.” It’s awesome and I love it!
And then… the first grade Mean Girls appeared.
The first week of school, our six-year-old
Ummmm… what? Did CHILDREN just utter those words in the year 2018??
My sweet girl was upset, but her Mama (who, by the way, IS blond-haired and blue-eyed) was even more upset. In fact, I was livid and began to question why we even moved here. How dare anybody tell my child—any child—that she is “less than.”
Side note: I grew up in a lower-middle class neighborhood, which was adjacent to a low income neighborhood, referred to—at the time—as “The Warzone” because it was a rough neighborhood. Kids I went to school with from elementary through high school were a mixture of White, Hispanic, African American, Laotian, Vietnamese, and Native American, to name a few. I honestly don’t recall seeing bigotry or racism when I was growing up. I definitely lived in a cultural “melting pot” throughout my childhood.
That evening, my husband and I spent time explaining to both of our children that somebody’s appearance on the outside should not be judged… no matter what. We reminded them that God made each of us—billions of people worldwide—different. And yet, before bedtime, our daughter said, “Mommy, if I color my hair blonde and make my eyes blue, then maybe I can go to Amy’s house.” My heart sank.
I sent a carefully-worded message to my daughter’s teacher explaining the situation and asking for her guidance. I was pleased that she took the situation seriously and stepped in. She later updated me and said one of the two girls was really remorseful and the other, Amy… not so much.
I explained to Scarlett that, while we don’t have to be friends with everybody, we do need to be kind and respectful to everybody (a good rule to follow for kids, and adults, alike). I explained we don’t know what’s going on in Amy’s life and what made her say what she did. Later that week Scarlett decided to wave and say, “Hi”, to Amy … and Amy did not reciprocate. So I nicely said to Amy, “Scarlett just waved at you and said, ‘Hi’… be friendly and say, ‘Hi,’ back.” After that, I made sure to greet Amy every morning and try to engage her with kindness. Maybe nobody has taught Amy how to be kind and she just needed someone to be friendly to her.
Shortly thereafter, Amy started giving my daughter cute, handmade cards with pictures drawn in crayon. She began greeting my daughter before school and when they’d pass by each other on the soccer field. And Amy even invited Scarlett over to play (though, I need to think long and hard about that invitation). And she told my daughter, “You can come stay at my house at Tahoe.” Scarlett is super excited about that invitation, even though she has no idea what Tahoe is or where it is. But she now feels included and that makes her happy.
A few weeks have passed and happily, all is well. Amy hasn’t been unkind to my daughter since the incident. However, just the other day, Scarlett studied my features and said, “Mommy, you have blonde hair and blue eyes… so YOU can go to Amy’s house in Tahoe.”
It hurt my heart to hear those words so innocently spoken by my sweet six year old. Thanks to one statement made by a random little girl, it is now ingrained in Scarlett’s mind that people with blonde hair and blue eyes have special privileges.
Moms, I implore you: speak to your children about being kind to people. Tell them it is not okay to shun others because they look different from us. Encourage them to reach out to other children and be friendly. Sometimes, all a child needs is for just one person to be kind and friendly to them. And, that act of kindness can make a big difference in his / her life.
