3 Lessons Learned from My Three-Year-Old’s First Encounter with Racism
If only I could do it over…
It all started as an innocent encounter between two three-year-olds at the playground.
My biracial daughter, Amira, had approached another little girl (White) to invite her to play together. I’ll call her Abby.
Abby’s mom came over immediately, grabbed her daughter’s hand, and pulled her over to another part of the playground with her daughter looking back toward us, confusion etched in her frown.
It was only when Abby looked away, toward the children playing in front of her and looked interested in joining them, did mom release the girl’s hand.
Shocked and rejected, Amira burst into tears. I hugged her.
“I know you’re hurt by that. It was bad for that mommy to take the little girl away so you couldn’t play.”
Amira stopped crying. I gave her another hug.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t hug away her first taste of racism.
To calm my daughter down and distract her from what appeared to be a traumatizing experience, we took a few trips down the sliding board together, then hit the swings.
