I was heartbroken but not surprised when my goddaughter was called the “N-word” by a third-grade classmate at school recently. It’s a horrific rite of passage for many black kids, and the incident triggered painful memories of “firsts” in my group chat.
“For me, it happened in the aftercare center of the kindergarten. This little girl with pigtails was actually smiling when she said this.
“Every year, like clockwork, someone calls me that on the playground.”
“We had just won a middle school baseball game against these white boys, and as we walked to the bus, they were screaming.”
These experiences left lasting scars on my goddaughter that lasted into middle age, which is part of what made my goddaughter’s experience so devastating—it made me understand how this moment would mark her. The white kids who made the ugly slur against her will likely forget it or never fully understand its impact. But for black children, there is no such innocence. It was a formative moment for them, a gateway to a realization that is especially difficult for young people to process: that racial hierarchies exist and that racism can be weaponized against them in a deeply personal way. Even if they can’t fully grasp it Why The word itself has so much power, and kids (black and white) understand its power.
For black parents, then, this ordeal is a devastating rite of passage—the first reminder to themselves that they can’t protect their children from these harsh realities, and the beginning of many conversations to try to help their children We address these painful core issues. But why do people think black people are bad? Why do they look down on me? Do I have any questions? Imagine if you discovered that people didn’t like the way you looked, but you didn’t know why or what you could have done differently.
Parents whose children must solve this incomprehensible puzzle bear an additional, stressful emotional burden. In addition to school assignments and activities, they must work overtime to help children build self-esteem to counteract the many overt and implicit messages that they are inferior, wrong, or bad. As if raising children isn’t hard enough.
Perhaps most frustrating of all, we often feel proud of our progress, especially in the past few years, despite our continued listening and learning. In 2024, the most blatant racism still exists in our elementary school playgrounds.
Worse yet, racist taunts like this (along with anti-Semitic and trans/queer attacks) are popping up rise. I spoke with educator Tiffany Jewel, author of The Antiracist Kid, about why this happens, what to do after an incident like this, and staying in school The need for reinvestment in anti-bias work (and at home).
Tiffany believes social media is partly responsible for the increase in hate speech among children. She also suspects that all the noise and attention surrounding banning books by BIPOC or queer authors has fueled the idea in children that if there’s something wrong with these stories, then “those” who appear in or write them There must be something wrong with people; otherwise, why would adults be so angry?
After all, children are notoriously impressionable. As recent MIT research points out: They have a unique ability to learn socially, to imitate and absorb what they observe, and to imitate this behavioral and social cues. This is certainly true when it comes to race and imbibing bias. This was born out of the famous “doll study” of psychologists Kenneth Clark and Mamie Clark. They surveyed children aged three to seven, asking them which of two dolls – one white and one black – they preferred. The kids are always white. and The black man chooses the white doll because he has internalized the message that white is preferable. These preschoolers are too young to understand racism, but they have an innate understanding of white supremacy.
So while you may not be spouting racial rhetoric at home, your children will still be observing situations and taking cues from them that will influence their developing worldview – e.g. seeing more of them in your family/community Black instead of white, or acknowledging the fact that brown kids are disciplined differently by teachers or that white kids get more positive attention. Or even observe how adults and educators react to situations like one child scolding another.
The risk in these situations, Tiffany told me, is that adults or educators may be tempted to minimize what’s going on: “Their reaction might be, ‘We’re not going to talk about this,’ because they don’t feel comfortable addressing it. Be comfortable. Talking to kids about identity is difficult, so adults may not know exactly what to do or say, so they ignore it and send the message to kids: It’s okay.
Tiffany stressed that while knowing exactly how to handle a situation can be difficult, there are several factors that can affect the approach and consequences, including the age of the child, whether it was a one-time crime or a bullying situation, and the context of the incident. importance:
Of course, this starts with speaking out and condemning this language or slur immediately and clearly, and offering comfort and support to the victim. “There is a team of adults here to support you and make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
Next, have a conversation with the caregivers of all the children involved. Sometimes adults want to avoid this situation because pointing out a child’s bad behavior can feel uncomfortable, especially during a game, and people can become defensive and angry, displaying the age-old defensive anger: “I don’t know where Johnny gets these ideas.”
A better option is to think of it as a learning opportunity for your child. Rather than handing out punishment, Tiffany suggests age-appropriate lessons on the history and importance of slurs and racism; for older children, she suggests a research project on the topic. This is where caregivers step in, proactively reinforcing anti-racist ideas at home and tracking their children to understand why the things being said were so hurtful. White parents have a responsibility to have these conversations, too. Black parents shouldn’t be the only ones helping their children confront racism—it reinforces the idea that it’s only a Black problem. Along these lines, white parents don’t have to wait to have anti-racist conversations with their kids, or expose their kids to stories of people of color through movies, books, etc., both of which can be a way to do that. Ongoing It means counteracting any negative messages, but also through representation – sending the message that these stories and people matter too.
It also helps if your school or athletic team has specific guidelines on hate speech and a clear understanding of the boundaries and consequences of violating them. It’s worth asking if your school has such a policy and, if not, working to create one. This awareness and action is as imperative today as ever. Despite criticism of DEI efforts, anti-racist education remains critical and the only hope for breaking the cycle of bias in our country and protecting children who are vulnerable because of their race, ethnicity, religion, gender identity, or sexual orientation.
“We want kids to love themselves,” Tiffany told me. “We want children to celebrate and respect differences. We want children to understand that prejudice hurts and to be able to see and speak out when injustice occurs. These are not just educational goals, but lifelong goals. Human goals. We It is our job to help children grow up with these values, so that one day we will save a generation of children like my goddaughter from enduring harmful and degrading ridicule.
Do you know how your school or organization handles incidents of bias or hate speech? Maybe we can share and learn from best practices in the comments? This feels like a timely discussion to have on Juneteenth.
Christine Pride is a writer, book editor, and content consultant living in Harlem, New York. Her novel You Were Always Mine, written with Jo Piazza, is out now.
PS More Race Matters column, as well as raising race-conscious children and three trans children share their stories.
(Photo by Ezequiel Giménez/Stocksy.)
