When my eldest daughter was about three years old we were standing on the corner of 76th Street and Broadway, and she saw an extremely obese woman pass by. Gabriella pointed at the woman and said, “That person is fat.” I whipped my head around and said sternly, “Gabriella, don’t say that. That is not nice.” My daughter was a bit taken aback though she didn’t say anything in response. In the proceeding moments, and still ten years later, I wonder about that parenting moment. Gabriella was noticing the size of this passerby without judgment. Until that moment she did not see “fat” as a bad word or a negative quality, but simply a descriptive term that accurately described the person walking down Broadway. But in my quick reaction, hoping to avoid hurting that stranger’s feelings, I communicated something about how I perceived that difference. In saying that calling someone “fat” was not nice I was communicating probably both a personal and a societal biases towards differences in body size and shape.
These spontaneous sorts of parenting moments happen all the time. Our children observe the world around them and we have raised them to verbalize and share these reflections. We mostly praise and encourage these nuanced observations. But then they say something that makes us cringe! They notice the person on the elevator who smells funny, they notice the disabled neighbor who shuffles as they walk, or they notice that their nanny has darker skin. And then there are, of course, all of those other differences that are not visual but equally important – a classmate with two mommies, a child without a dad, a friend who is adopted, a friend who cannot climb the stairs as easily as his peers, or a friend who doesn’t go on fancy vacations or who lives in a small apartment. It is easy to say that we want to raise our children in a world that embraces and celebrates diversity; it is another to actually navigate all of these complex waters.
This week at our PA meeting we spoke about some of these challenging parenting moments when we try to respond to our children’s observations or when we want to make visible something that perhaps has not even reached their consciousness yet. If we talk about these differences do we draw more attention than necessary? When we nudge our children to keep quiet rather than vocalize what they notice do we simply magnify the issues and create divides that might not be necessary? If I hadn’t chided my daughter Gabriella for her observation might I have helped move us closer to a world in which all people are accepted?
At this time of year, as we celebrate the legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., these questions feel most relevant. Dr. King’s vision was not that our differences would disappear but rather that we would live harmoniously together – black children and white children in the same schools, the same churches, the same restaurants. While our country has made some progress in this regard, we still have an enormous way to go. Our schools continue to be segregated despite the laws of our nation. The economic disparity between Blacks and Whites continues to be of mammoth proportion, and there continue to be many obstacles to the achievement of equality and societal harmony. But as we honor Dr. King’s message I would like to use the opportunity to think about how we discuss inclusion in a broader way – both the ways we talk about our own differences and also how we think and talk about other people’s uniqueness. These conversations with our children will be among the most challenging and button-pushing – for they demand that we confront topics that we mostly avoid. I would argue that we want to do more than simply socialize our children to do what we do, which for the most part is to ignore our differences and stay in our separate silos. I would like to propose using our children’s questions and their observations to propel us to a new place. A place where we can acknowledge that we are all different but without the value judgment that one person, one race, one learning style or one family structure is superior to another’s.
I sometimes wonder, if I could rewind, what would I now tell Gabriella that afternoon on Broadway when she said, “that woman is fat”? I don’t see an obvious response but I think if I could do it again I would have bent down to her level and said, “You are right. She is.” There may be a lifetime of conversations about body image, differences, eating healthy, not hurting people’s feelings and so much more – but at that moment she was simply making an observation and we need to trust that noticing and talking about differences in the long run can only help to heal this world. With visibility can come understanding.
When you walk into the JCC, above the box office in the lobby, are some words you may or may not have noticed, reading: “When the Israelites in the desert built the Tabernacle, some brought gold, some brought copper, some brought the work of their hands, and some brought the wisdom of their hearts. Together, we have all built this community.” I think this is a beautiful message to communicate the wondrous tapestry that our diverse contributions make in building our community.
Wishing you a shabbat shalom and a wonderful long weekend,
Q & A:
I love to hear your reactions and responses to my weekly messages and would be particularly interested this week in:
- How do you think I might have responded to my daughter?
- Have you had an experience either as the one who felt different or the one who was making an effort towards inclusion.
Ilana received her B.A. from Harvard College and a Master's Degree in Education from Bank Street College. She was born and raised on the Upper West Side of Manhattan and now lives there with her husband and three children.
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