Differences – Start with Basics

One evening when Brendan, my second son, was three years old, a man from work stopped by our house. His name is Harland Celestine and he is African American. We sat around the kitchen table talking and sharing a bottle of wine. He brought BBQ for us to share and I suppose the cultural differences were in the back of his mind as well as ours. He was kind and gentle and Brendan must have sensed this because he climbed on his lap.

As we talked Brendan began to explore his hair. His tiny fingers were stroking Harland’s head and we all began to notice and smile. No one said anything as we watched Brendan discovering human difference. Harland smiled and enjoyed the experience as we did. It was a bonding moment for all of us.

Last night as I sat on the porch with Bea she looked over and said, “you have very nice hair”. I thanked her while continuing to look straight ahead. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her staring – she had the same questioning look in her eyes that Brendan did so many years ago. I knew she wanted to touch it but she dared not ask. She is a woman in her fifties. Brendan was just three. As we age we apply rules. I wanted to give her permission to touch it, but knew she would be embarrassed so I refrained.

Unspoken rules keep us from understanding one another. Perhaps if our cultural norms didn’t get in the way the world would be more tolerant. Small things get in the way of real understanding.

By the way, Nina, Bea’s daughter wants me to braid my hair in corn rows. . . humm. . . I will have to think about that!