A parent and senior fellow at the think tank New America shares her experience and thinking on talking to children about race and raising Black children who are confident in their racial identity.
I wasn’t surprised the first time my son and daughter noted a preference for straight hair. In addition to flat out stating they wished their hair was straight, at just four and five they started talking about skin color a great deal. They’d ask if a person was brown skinned, black skinned, or white skinned, and then discuss where they felt their skin tone fit in the imaginary color card they had brought into the conversation.
As a Black woman, I have long lived with these issues—proxies for the larger issue of racial identity. Yet I, and many other Black parents, still struggle to find the right way (and the right moment) to talk about them with our kids.
Children take in many verbal and nonverbal cues to develop their understanding of which attributes are favored and which are considered negative. From the toys they play with, to the commercials and TV shows they see, to the things they hear from adults, parents, and friends, even very young children develop an understanding of good and bad.
Black parents have difficult conversations with our kids that can make talking about physical appearance and perceived beauty seemingly insignificant. When my daughter was three, our family visited the National Museum of African American History and Culture. While her older brother accepted our simple explanation—that our ancestors were brought here from Africa against their will and made to work—our little girl, still using a stroller when walks were too long for her comfort, absorbed it all so quickly and deeply. At just three-and-a-half, she asked, “Why did they make them slaves?” “Did they break their skin?” “Did they die?” “Are they going to come take me away and make me a slave?”
This was painful. Our past is painful. It’s difficult to know the right way to scaffold learning of this history all the way up through systemic racism today. It’s equally difficult to know how to address the more nuanced harm of ongoing devaluation of Black people’s physical appearance, intelligence, kindness, and likeability.
The infamous doll test from the 1940s illustrated the challenges to Black children’s self-esteem that parents are up against. In 2010, two years after the election of the first Black president, a time that some suggested was post-racial, CNN conducted a follow-up doll study experiment. The slant toward favoring the white image over the black persisted, showing that this remains the message picked up from multiple mediums by many Black children. So how do you ensure it is not by yours?
The questions come quickly and easily, the answers do not. I spoke with Black parents and found that many were unsure of how to “get it right”—to build their children’s pride and confidence in their racial identity. However, together, we found some promising practices.
Create a New Frame
This is active work. Many parents only start to address this issue when they first hear their children utter a concerning statement about Black identity, but kids have been bombarded with stereotypes long before voicing the messages themselves. Parents must proactively work to override the deluge and reframe what their children experience. Provide more Black and Brown toys and dolls, and eliminate television shows (of which many still air) that negatively portray people with dark skin.
A parent in Illinois, Lillian, taught her son the difference between skin color, race, and ethnicity, explaining to him, “My skin is pink, but my race is Black,” and, “Daddy is from Cuba, but his race is Black.” She and her husband also reinforce positive messages about racial identity using dolls: “Where is the beautiful brown boy that looks like Samiel? Isn’t that doll’s hair so soft and curly just like Samiel’s?”
Consider regularly scheduling time to discuss the significant societal contributions of Black people. Incorporate a practice of teaching about Africa and ancestral and family traditions—think about what other elements of your heritage you can incorporate into their lives. Lillian also mentioned how she regularly points out the African drums in music throughout the diaspora (e.g., the base in hip-hop, the clave in salsa). “I try to point out the Africanisms already present in his life, and show them as positives,” she said.
Anye, a father in Oakland, spoke of his desire for his boys to have a way to learn about their heritage, beyond what he and his wife are able to impart. He suggests that Black communities create cultural learning environments akin to those found in the Jewish and Chinese community. “Most cultures have something along these lines,” he notes.
Actively creating a new frame of understanding involves doing away with as many of the existing negative influences as possible and replacing them with a deliberate and strong foundation of knowledge and respect for one’s own Blackness.
Our Identity Is Not Defined by Racism
While the trials Black people have faced and overcome is an element of our story, our identity is not defined by slavery and persecution. Help your kids see that being Black is not simply about bearing racism. Avoid only speaking about their racial identity as it relates to racial stereotyping, systemic racism, hate speech, safety, or discrimination.
But it’s important to be cautious; just as non-Black people should avoid “color blindness,” it’s important to teach Black children to avoid assimilating their identity into the White culture. I have met many Black adults who wanted to eschew their racial identity by claiming that we are all the same. Don’t teach your children to cast off their racial identity; instead teach them that for us all to have value does not mean we all have to be the same.
Jamal, a father in Dallas, Texas, shared what this looks like in real life. “[My seven-year-old son] was getting teased at school and kids were constantly touching his hair, so he wanted to cut it off and make it ‘flat.’” But instead of taking him to the barber, his parents offered him the option of coloring his hair. By deciding to change his hair color he could own the difference and make it a bold expression of his own choosing instead of a sense of difference forced on him. He could reclaim the power in this element of his Black cultural identity. He has since embraced his natural hair and its versatility, a key part of his Black cultural identity.
And as an important aside, California State Senator Holly Mitchell has brought forth legislation to lead the charge against natural hair discrimination, because unfortunately the impacts of negative reactions to Black hair extends past teasing to employment and matriculation.
But for now, since his kids are young, Jamal added “We try to take the most positive angle to these discussions, and typically it involves taking the issues they are experiencing and figuring out how to instill confidence and pride around who they are and their race and identity.”
You can also incorporate the practice of the Kwanzaa principle, Kujichagulia, or self-determination. Encourage your kids to define themselves, name themselves, and speak for themselves, lest they be defined, named, or spoken for by others.
Model All the Time
I’ll never forget watching the PBS documentary series, Eyes on the Prize—a fantastic and in-depth account of the civil rights movement—or reading Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry as a child. I’m newly enamored of Brown, a book on skin tones. There are so many great books to choose from that present Black children with strong heroes and heroines to look up to. However, some of the best role models are found in your community and in your home.
In your community, you constantly make choices about which dentist, doctor, barber, or other community resources to visit. Why not use this as an opportunity to show your child successful Black professionals? In addition to providing examples of their limitless potential, this ensures greater representation and exposure to leaders of color in their life. If your child spends a great deal of time in largely White spaces, extend their exposure to people who look like them. It also gives them a chance to see the wide breadth of Black skin tones, gifts, and culture.
Then there’s you. I mentioned my children’s fascination with straight hair. While I have not chemically straightened my hair in almost two decades, my kids frequently watched me use heat to straighten it when I got “dressed up.” I stopped wearing my hair straight more than a year ago. I can already see the difference sporting big hair with a plethora of coils has made for all three of my children—they have stopped asking for their hair to be straight, complimented mine and other natural hairstyles, and exude more confidence.
Stavonnie, a mother with locs in Chicago, spoke about the importance of modeling and positive reinforcement for her daughter when it came to hair. When her preschool teacher turned her nose up when learning that four-year-old Jordan’s hair was washed once a week, Jordan went through a phase of wanting her hair to be a “straight line.” “Hair is a huge issue!” Stavonnie said, “Fortunately, I have been able to successfully combat negative feelings about hair through her having locs now, which she loves! We tell her how beautiful her hair is often, and I think it’s particularly impactful coming from her dad. She won’t give up her locs for anything now!”
Parenting is a weighty responsibility, but perhaps there is comfort in knowing that children are resilient and always learning. Fostering confidence and security in your kids’ racial identity in a world caught in longstanding racial flames takes sustained work. Keep the conversations with your children open and ongoing, think out loud with your kids, and invite them to do the same—we all have room to grow in our knowledge, confidence, and self-love. It’s both a commitment and a practice.
The original version of this article was originally published in Britannica by Autumn McDonald.
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