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Parenting in black and white: Talking to our children about race

Nancy Kaffer and Kim Trent

Free Press columnist Nancy Kaffer and Wayne State University Board of Governors President Kim Trent, a regular contributor to the paper, are friends and colleagues raising children in Detroit. The following is excerpted from their conversation about the challenges of parenthood in a racially-charged city:  

Nancy Kaffer:

 I guess we should start at the beginning: When you talk to your son about race, what do you tell him?

Kim Trent: First, I tell him that he should be proud of his ethnic and racial heritage. Too often, black manhood is framed as problematic. I think black mothers feel a very real obligation to prepare their children — especially their sons — for the way the world will perceive them: as dangerous, as irresponsible, as a problem.

I am so intentional about using language to make my son feel loved and protected, because I know that he’s generally not going to be treated that way by the world. There’s very little empathy for black boys.

They can’t necessarily change how others perceive them or behave toward them, but they have total control over how they respond. The difference can be the difference between life and death.

Nancy: For a long time I did not talk to my son about race. I wanted him to see people, not race, and I had the naive notion that if I didn’t talk about race, maybe he wouldn’t notice it? 

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As he got older, I learned that this thinking was flawed.Now we talk about race, but he’s still pretty little.  We talk about how some people judge folks based on their skin color (or where they’re from, or whether they’re a boy or a girl), and that this is a crazy way to think. How friends with black or brown skin are sometimes faster runners or better at math or funnier or cooler, and how sometimes you’re the fast runner who’s good at math, and none of those inherent abilities have to do with what color your skin is.

He knows that there used to be laws that were unfair to people of color, and that brave people fought to get rid of those laws, but that people of color still face structural impediments (he would not say “structural impediments”) that white people don’t.

I struggle with how much to tell him at any one time. I don’t want to make him feel bad about being a white male. It seems really unfair to vest the responsibility for structural oppression on his little 8-year-old shoulders.

Kim:

I think it’s so important that white parents talk to their white children about the impact racism and sexism has had on American society. It shouldn’t be about a guilt trip or blame game, but facts are facts. In the past, white men constructed laws; rigged systems and created and enforced social norms that have oppressed — to varying degrees — everyone in this county who is not a white man. Even though many of these laws and norms no longer stand, their impact is still felt.

Nancy:I think that white people worry a lot about talking about race. There are so many ways to come off sounding like someone who is clueless and just doesn’t get it, or someone who is trying way too hard ... or maybe that’s just me?

What do you tell your son about white people? 

Kim: I’m not hesitant to have frank conversations with my son about how white privilege operates and how it has led to racial disparities in wealth, housing, health and  education. But I am careful to not vilify the entire white race.I want him to understand systems of oppression and how they emerged and are sustained. It’s far more difficult to challenge systems of oppression than it is to confront a person’s individual biases.

That said, I want him to understand the power of one-on-one interactions to challenge racist assumptions, that there is joy and power in cultivating new white allies. The fight against systems of oppression is where the real work lies. 

I’m curious about how your decision to raise your white child in Detroit and to send him to a majority black school informs how he navigates race. 

Nancy: Well, I think it’s deeply skewed his ideas about what “minority” means! 

I really believe that race means something different for my kid, or other kids who attend majority black schools, than it does to kids raised in all- or nearly all-white environments. He has black friends, his teachers have mostly been black, his principal is black … he sees examples of black leadership and excellence every day.

I worry about any kid who’s the only, or one of very few, of their race or ethnicity at school, but I made what seemed like a safe gamble that the rest of the world was going to offer plenty of affirmation that it’s OK to be a white male. He seems to be pretty confident about who he is, and he’s more thoughtful about stuff than I was at his age. I’ll have less input as he grows up, so I'm hoping these early years stick with him.

Tell me about raising your son in Detroit.  

Kim: Detroit is so deeply a part of my identity and interests that I literally could not imagine raising him anywhere else.

But I’m a lot more intentional about what I expose him to in Detroit than my parents had to be. When I was a kid, I just went outside and there were a whole bunch of kids to play with and adventures awaiting us.

I grew up in an era when most kids went to the neighborhood school together

My circle included the children of professionals, factory workers, government bureaucrats and everyone in between. It gave me an ability to relate to all kinds of people, because I saw early that despite socio-economic and educational differences, pretty much everyone wants the same things for their families: security, comfort, happiness and prosperity.

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I’m not sure there are that many neighborhoods like that any more in Detroit.The neighborhood where I’m raising my son has almost no kids, and my son's school draws children from all over the city and beyond the city.

Nancy: We haven't talked about "the talk" yet — when non-white parents have to explain to their own  the conversation non-white parents have to have with their children about how law enforcement may react to them, which is something white parents just don't have to do. How do you get a young child to understand that a grown adult may view them as a threat? How do you communicate this without undermining social structures of authority? 

Kim: My husband and I haven't had "the talk" with our son yet, because he is only 10 years old, and the only time he's not in our presence is when he's at school.

But then I think of Tamir Rice, who was only 12 when an officer in Cleveland shot him for having a toy gun. I'm sure Tamir's mother also thought he was too young for the talk.. Certainly before he gets a driver's permit or license, we'll have to give him strategies to navigate potentially dangerous encounters with law enforcement officials. But it's a tightrope, because we don't want to make him think that all, or even most, cops are dangerous and/or racist. Most are not. It's just that the some who are, have lethal weaponry and legal authority to use it.

Nancy: We decided to write this piece because we think it’s important for folks to talk about this stuff. But we’re friends, we talk about complicated stuff all the time, and we trust each other. It's not that easy for everyone.

Kim: It’s been said that the personal is political, and that’s true even in motherhood and friendship. With the way social media and other artificial boundaries section us off from each other, I think it’s important that mothers like us are intentional about talking about the things that we have in common. There’s hope of racial reconciliation if we model that behavior for our kids.

Nancy Kaffer is a Free Press columnist. Contact her at nkaffer@freepress.com. Kim Trent was elected to an eight-year term on the Wayne State University Board of Governors in 2012.