For the last several MLK days, I've read Petunia a book about the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and we've watched his "I Have a Dream" speech. She hasn't learned much in school yet about the civil rights movement or MLK; it seems to me that if they're to have a day off from school to celebrate Dr. King, kids should understand what they're honoring. This year, I included Dash in the memorial.
Petunia grew up in a different life context from Dash; our area of New Jersey was not very diverse racially, meaning that it was mostly white. Dash, however, has spent a year and a half in California attending a preschool where about twelve different languages (maybe more) are spoken. It seems like the school has kids from every race, creed, religion, culture, etc. And unlike Petunia, who once noted when we drove through Trenton that "there are a lot of African-Mexicans here," Dash actually knows the difference between African-Americans and Mexicans (not that he cares). The story of the "I Have a Dream" speech and the accompanying civil rights march left him puzzled and concerned. I tried to reassure him that "things are different now" (well, at least until you take sociology in college), and Petunia tried to help explain. Her explanation included the Rosa Parks story and how Obama never could've been President. She also mentioned which kids wouldn't be in Dash's classroom, and how Mama and Daddy never could've been married.
Wait... huh?
When Petunia was little, she used to draw and color our family quite a bit: peach-colored Mom, peach Petunia, peach Dash... and a brown Daddy. We've laughed a lot over our brown Daddy over the years. The Guv inherited his Greek father's dark coloring, and he is, indeed, quite a bit darker than his lily-white wife. But we didn't realize until this year that Petunia actually thought he was "other" as opposed to just darker than us. We had a long discussion about it, and she dug in: "he IS a different ethnicity, Mama," she insisted. "But you're that ethnicity, too," I retorted. "Yes, but no one would think my skin is brown," she shot back. "No one thinks Daddy's skin is brown, either," I chuckled, "except for you. He's European. Mediterranean. He's white, even though he's a different shade of white." We reached a point of agreement, and we talked about all of the different people we know who look different from us despite our shared whiteness; we also talked about Obama's mixed race... and, most importantly, we had a fantastic conversation about finding the sameness among our differences. It was a pretty exhausting conversation, especially for a mother who'd rather her children focus less on the color of someone's skin than on the content of their character, as Dr. King suggests.
Then we adjourned our lesson, and Dash and I read a few books that helped to reinforce our conversation (e.g. "I Am America") as Petunia drafted her 2010 "I Have a Dream" speech. Here it is:
I have a dream, that little kids, like me, won't make fun of each other's religion or skin. I have a dream that angels will bring peace on earth. I have a dream that war will end. I have a dream that everyone is happy and healthy. I have a dream that poor people have a home. I have a dream that dogs, cats, and guinea pigs will get along.
I have a dream that people will stick together like legos. I have a dream that you have a dream. I have a dream that pets will be happy and healthy. I have a dream that our future will be great. I have a dream that dinosaurs will be in our hearts. I have a dream that we will always be nice people.
(I didn't publish last year's speech, but Petunia's 2008 one is here.)
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