April 22, 2003
Correct
Shortly before Easter, while our oldest daughter was away, my wife and I took our youngest daughter to Vienna to see Schönbrunn palace, which was featuring tours for children including Easter Egg Hunts, and an "Easter Market" outside, (modeled after Advent markets).
She enjoyed the tour, and seeing how princesses had lived centuries ago. Then we went to the Easter market, which was packed, mostly with tourists from all over. It consisted of a series of stands selling things with an Easter theme - eggs in all sizes, decorated every way you can imagine; ham and eggs, crystal eggs, all sorts of rabbit-shaped products. How the wine and beer and pretzels related to Easter I'm still not sure, but they sold that too, as well as Thai takeout food.
We were looking at faux-antique tin toys at one stand when my daughter stopped, turned, and pointed.
"Daddy, look!"
"What?"
"Africans!"
"Ah." So I crouched down beside her and sort of wrapped her pointing hand in my own like Harrison Ford's police detective did with the Amish boy in that scene in "Witness" where he points at the bad guy's picture in the police station.
"Pointing is impolite, honey."
"Africans, daddy!"
"Shall we go talk to them?" But she shook her head. I was relieved - I was on a diet that week and fairly giddy then, so I would not have made a lot of sense if I'd tried to strike up a conversation with the group of young Black people standing around a table eating their pretzels.
We live in the country. The most exotic person in our village is, well, I was going to say me, but I suppose it would be the thin man with the strange haircut who rides his bicycle constantly, not going anywhere really, and always smiles a faraway smile. But there are definitely no Black people in our dinky Central European village. And my daughter's kindergarten just finished teaching the kids all about Africa - the people, the animals, the culture. It was pretty cool, they ate African food and learned African songs, she loved it, so it was only natural for her to get excited when she saw real African people.
She is also fond, when we walk through larger towns, she riding on my shoulders, of hollering "Japanese people!" and pointing whenever she sees an Asian. She is five. I am happy she is aware of race in a neutral, interested way. The hollering and pointing make me cringe, and we're working on that, but she means no harm. It gives me a better understanding, maybe, of the little Japanese kids who used to point and holler when I lived there.
Posted by Mig at April 22, 2003 07:15 AMThe city here is biggish, but dark skin is a very rare thing. (I just checked my blog: I haven't been in the same room with a black person since before January 19.) When I see black people on the street, I know they're almost certainly visitors to this land of white people. It's tough not to walk up and greet them and wish them well. I'm half thinking of starting to shop at a certain drug store around here, not because it's convenient or because I want to buy anything, but because there's a black pharmacist behind the counter. It's a weird reflex, and of course I won't really do it, but I know the surprise of seeing other colors.
Posted by: Eeksy-Peeksy at April 22, 2003 12:16 PMI went to college in MT and had a friend from fr. guinna (i think that's where she was from). Anyway, she was extremely dark and my son at 8 months was soooo scared of her. He got over it eventually but i was so embarassed.
Posted by: megchem at April 22, 2003 04:32 PM