Determined not to let my seven year old’s mind turn to mush over the summer, I recently purchased several sets of flashcards.  One of them covered the American Presidents. As I sat down with him to go through the Presidents from Washington to Obama, I realized a few things:

First, I am pitifully ignorant of our nation’s Presidents and the historical facts surrounding their times in office.  There were even a few that I had no recollection of ever learning about.  Sad.  I blame that on my parents.  I take no responsibility at all for being a high school goof off.  Nope – none at all.

Second, as I drilled my son on certain presidential facts (Grover Cleveland is the only president to serve two non-consecutive terms.  What’s consecutive?  It’s…um…well, like two terms not back to back.  What’s term?  It’s…uh…four years in office.  Why did his parents name him Grover?  I honestly have no idea), I realized that a part of me, deep down, hopes that I’m building a foundation for him to become some sort of brilliant genius boy.  Because we all know that the kid who can rattle off the Presidents in order is going to go somewhere in life.

And finally, as we discussed certain historical periods surrounding Presidents past, I discovered that some of my son’s innocence was about to be shattered.

It all started with Abraham Lincoln and the conversation went something like this.

“Mom, why do people like Abraham Lincoln so much?”

“Well, he was a great President and he did great things for our country.”

“Like what?”

“Well, first of all, he worked really hard to abolish slavery and make sure that all men were shown equal rights and respect.”

“What’s slavery?”

And this is when my heart sank.  Not just because I had to share with him some of the ugliness of our nation’s history, but also because I don’t know that my son has ever really seen a difference between himself and African Americans.  Not once has he ever remarked about skin color or even labeled someone as black or white.

I believe that children are born color blind.  Perhaps they begin to notice physical differences as they get a little older (anyone who has stood in a grocery line with a verbal three year old behind someone who is overweight knows that children indeed do notice physical differences.  Sometimes humiliatingly so…).  But certain feelings or ideas about those who look differently from them are not innate – they are taught. 

I first noticed the fact that kids are color blind when my son was four years old.  We were at the Tower Grove Park wading pool and I watched as my son and two young African American boys struck up a conversation and began playing a rigorous game of tag.  They laughed and whooped and hollered and as they parted they all gave high fives and hugs. 

As I watched them, I wondered why it was so difficult for adults to see what children see.  Why are we still discussing race and fighting over such matters when the fact is just as Lincoln proclaimed so many years ago:

“Let us at all times remember that all American citizens are brothers of a common country, and should dwell together in the bonds of  fraternal feeling.”  Abraham Lincoln – November 20, 1860

So as gently and delicately as I could, I explained the history of our country to my wide eyed boy.  He listened quietly and intently for a few minutes, then studied Lincoln’s picture closely.

“Why would people want to be slaves?” he asked.

“They didn’t want to,” I answered.  “But they weren’t given a choice.  They were made to be slaves.”

“Just because their skin is brown?” he asked.

I nodded.

He processed momentarily then shrugged.  “That’s dumb,” he said.  “I’m glad people don’t have slaves anymore,” and he tossed Lincoln’s card on the pile.  And the conversation ended.  I wanted to tell him how much I agreed.  I want to applaud and tell him how right he was, that it is dumb.  But I refrained.  I didn’t want to make the conversation a bigger deal than it needed to be.  It wasn’t a painful discussion and I don’t think there was much innocence lost.  To my son, anybody, no matter what color their skin, is a potential friend.  Especially if they love Star Wars.

I didn’t go further in depth.  I didn’t tell him that it would be many, many years before basic human rights were truly extended to all men (and women).  I didn’t talk about Martin Luther King or the fact that for some reason there still remain fractions of a racial rift within our country.  I did, however, watch as he got to the last card in the deck.  President Barack Obama.  I wondered how he would react.  If he would make the connection.  I wasn’t sure if by pointing out the negativity of the past it would suddenly make him accutely aware of the color of others.

But I didn’t have to worry.  Because to my son, being President has nothing to do with the color of one’s skin.  And that is as it should always be.  There is plenty of time for him to learn more about the fight for liberty by so many in our country, but I hope to my core that he never loses the sense that it’s all just plain “dumb.”

“I leave you, hoping that the lamp of liberty will burn in your bosoms until there shall no longer be a doubt that all men are created free and equal.”   Abraham Lincoln - July 10, 1858

You should have heard the conversation we had when we got to FDR regarding World War II and Hitler.  By the time I was finished going through that set of cards, I needed a stiff drink…

What are your thoughts?  How do you approach sensitive topics with your children?

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