My oldest son, Jerry, has many different friends.
He has his godbrother, Darrick, whom he considers his best friend. And then there is Jasmine, a pretty little 5-year old he considers his best girl friend. And there are also Patrick and Jordan, his best brother friends, and Taylor and Ariel, his best sister friends.
There is Evan, his preschool partner in crime, and Travis, his friend who left preschool. There are also Cameron, Devante and Micah, his Charleston friends.
I hear about all of these friends and a multitude of others every day, and it makes me glad. I'm glad to know that my child makes good friends easily, and I'm also glad that he never refers to them by their skin color.
I didn't realize that until this week, when the onset of Black History Month spawned a bevy of black faces on television. This week alone I've watched a mostly-black cast in a wonderful Broadway show, finally seen Sydney Poitier and Ruby Dee in stellar performances in "Raisin in the Sun," and viewed documentaries about the Civil Rights Movement and the FBI's attempts to demonize Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. during that era.
I've seen black characters on shows I regularly watch have whole episodes focused on them, most often with them dealing with a cultural issue. I've also seen the promotion of umpteen events and commercial advertisements related to black history and culture.
While I knew the increased presence of blacks in the media was related to the onset of Black History Month, my sons didn't. But even Jerry noticed the increased presence of people who looked like him in the media.
"Mommy, why are there so many brown people on TV?" he asked.
Jerry doesn't know any of the politically correct or incorrect references to his skin color because Patrick and I chose not to teach him that. We decided not to emphasize our blackness blatantly to our sons because it's not the first thing we want them to be aware of when they meet people.
In fact, we've gone to great pains to expose our boys to people and activities from a broad base of economic, racial, religious and even familial backgrounds so that they can be accepting of people who look or appear or act different from them.
It's hard, sometimes, to maintain that goal, especially after I experience or hear about prejudice. There have been times when Patrick or I came home from work or a social outing complaining about what we perceived to be biased acts, and it's difficult then not to say or do things that our child will pick up on.
I realize that prejudice is learned, even when the teacher is unaware the lesson is being taught. Children see and hear many things, and they file away for later use. That's why parents must be careful that they don't plant seeds of hate and hurt in a casual expression or an angry utterance.
I didn't have a good explanation for Jerry about why so many brown people were on the television, but I did let him watch part of the civil rights documentary with me. When he gave me a concerned look and asked why the dogs were biting the brown people and why everybody looked mad and sad, I chose my words carefully.
In the end, I didn't talk about skin color or discrimination or equal rights.
"Sometimes people do bad things to other people, and there's never a good reason for that," I said.
"But that's OK, 'cause it was an accident. We'll just pray like God told us to, right Mommy?" he asked.
I was glad to agree with him. I hope his prayers are answered.
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