Oppression and Exclusion by skin type
Tue 07 Jun 2011 22:55:56 | 3 comments
My daughter has tasted the bitterness of exclusion. What an exciting day. The last day of middle school spent at Cedar Point and an end-of-the-year party at a friends house. My 8th grade daughter jumped out of the car this evening, "Love you Mom." Returning home early, she found me reading in bed, sat down next to me with tears streaming down her freckled face. I finally succeeded in encouraging her to tell me what was wrong.
She told me about "the game" at the party. The goal of the game was to form two groups that are to remain teams the entire summer. The team that wins is the one which collectively has the deeper tan. The team members will wear special identical bracelets all summer. The removal of the bracelets at summer's end, unveiling "the line" will determine each members depth of tan. The team captains began choosing their teams. My daughter was not called, not called and not called and nearing the end of the team picks someone yelled out to my daughter, "You are disqualified". Everyone started laughing. Others chimed in, "Yeah I'm good with that". My daughter has my fair irish skin that does not tan. Noone wanted her on their team for fear that her ivory skin tone would mess with a win. My daughter continued to hear laughter and that she is "loning it" this summer. No one else held the distinction of disqualification, just my daughter. She has no team, no bracelet. These were all her closest friends, guys and gals.
This hit hard, a sucker punch in the gut and remains with me this evening. I just tucked my Irish lass into bed and tried to assure her that she is perfect just the way she is. She tried to smile but gave me the look, the look that says " but your my mom and moms always say those things". Peers have the ultimate ownership on what is acceptable, valued and prized and what is not.
I desire to share this with a plea of encouraging teaching, discussion with our children about oppression and exclusion. It IS in their own backyards. I feel a tinge of discrimination tonight. Are we teaching our children still, daily, modeling acceptance? Or are we letting the kids teach themselves not only how to survive but how to climb to the top. I write when I don't know what else to do with pain. Sharing what I know I am hoping that you will share this true story with your children. One lonely kid with a couple bucketfuls of tears may be saved this humiliation.
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