Svetlana, I think Courtney Martin covered a lot of my feelings on your post. I’ll just add some personal experience of my own, as the only dark-skinned child in my third grade class in New York. Several of my white classmates would constantly ask me what my mom cooked me for dinner, whether it was “normal” food or “smelly Indian” food. Once at the lunch table, someone showed me their orange slices and asked if I knew what they were. She didn’t think an Indian kid would understand them.

Maybe they were asking innocent questions in their eyes. To me, as the minority, I grew deeply ashamed of my skin color and heritage. I felt bullied. I feigned illness to keep from going to school. I barely spoke in class. My “otherness” was so pronounced in my third grade class, and I didn’t have the courage or tools to know how to feel good about myself.

Power dynamics are real. Assuming the “other” is at your disposal to enlighten you about the human condition is untrue, demeaning, and in my case, temporarily damaging.

Edited to add: It’s entirely possible that the little Ugandan girl in your class went through similar emotions as I did. I think what Courtney is advocating is to consider her perspective with equal weight — and to accept that the exchange may not have been as enlightening and positive for her as it was for you.