Colorblindness

My children are colorblind.

I remember a conversation we had when they were much younger. At the time, I wanted to somehow teach my children to see past a person's racial background, and my friend Melita (who is African-American) was coming to visit our home. The children couldn't remember who she was, so I started describing her.

"She's very tall. She has short, black, curly hair. And she helps with the babies sometimes at church." 

Blink blink. The kids still couldn't remember.

I added the one detail I had wanted to avoid… the color of her skin.

"She has dark brown skin. We went out for dim sum with her."

Suddenly, the light bulb went on when I mentioned dim sum.

"Oh yeah! I remember… She has dark skin?!"

I realized then that I didn't have to teach my children NOT to be prejudiced. They were born with eyes that saw the world honestly, and skin color was just another detail, like Mom has black hair and brown eyes and Dad has brown hair and green eyes. They have one grandma who is blond, one cousin who is red-headed, and friends who are Indian, Hispanic, Asian, and African, speaking English with various accents. Whether we eat Chinese food, American food, Mexican food, or French food (you should hear the kids try to say 'beouf bourguignon'!), we love to share our food with others. Because we live in an area with enough diversity, and because my husband and I show appreciation and respect for all cultures, my children are not afraid of differences. For them, it is very simple. People are people, and what is most important is kindness and friendship.

As the children have grown older, I have learned more and more that race is not a subject to be avoided. God made people of all appearances, and the world is better because of the wonderful cultural diversity in it! As part of our history lessons, we have studied foods, language, and dress from around the world, as well as racial discrimination. I do wonder if my children will ever face discrimination as I have, but, as hard as it is to say, I would rather they be on the receiving end than the giving end.

Yesterday at the store, a young man enthusiastically pointed to my children and shouted, "Hey, your children are 'hapa' like me!"

As we walked through the parking lot, I tried to explain to my older children what 'hapa' meant. Blink blink. They looked as confused as when they were younger. In their minds, they "know" that I'm Chinese-- we eat Chinese food, we learn the Chinese language, we celebrate Chinese holidays and sometimes wear traditional Chinese clothes. But they never think of me as being Chinese. In fact, sometimes they say, "But Mom, you don't LOOK Chinese!"

So I tried a different tactic. I started listing their friends who are also 'hapa', but they just got more confused.

"Mary is part Asian?! Really?! Is her dad Asian?!"

I laughed to myself. Their friend Mary has a Filipino mom and a Caucasian dad, but my children never noticed. And maybe it's better that way.

With time, my children will grow more aware of cultural differences. The world will make sure of that, and the world will try to teach them to see through the lenses of prejudice and stereotypes. 

For now, though, my children see people as God sees them, with an appreciation for their differences, but without allowing those differences to get in the way. I hope that never changes.