Evangeline told me yesterday that her class did a play about Dr. King. Imagine my surprise to hear that she had been given the starring role.
I was surprised to hear this, since I normally would think Evangeline a little too feminine and a little on the pale side to play King, but from what I can tell, she did a good job. As we were leaving school in the car, I tried quoting a line or two from King's famous "I have a Dream" speech, and Evangeline not only corrected me, she remembered more of the speech too.
In many ways, this isn't surprising. Evangeline has always impressed me with her utter incomprehension of how people can hate one another based on something as trivial as the shade of their skin. When we've read books about slavery and the Underground Railroad, she's cried to think that some of her friends would have been slaves a hundred fifty years ago, and when we've read stories about Harriet Tubman, Sojourner Truth and Frederick Douglass, she's cheered when they become free and when they outsmart the slavery system.
What really pleased me, though, was about two weeks ago when I was reading the girls Dr. Seuss' "The Sneetches." When we reached a page where some of the star-belly sneetches were playing a game on the beach, Rachel (as she is wont to do) started identifying the sneetches one after another as various members of the family. It's a harmless thing and it makes the story more interesting for her I guess, but when she said one of the star-belly sneetches was her sister, Evangeline objected.
"I'm not a star-belly sneetch," she insisted. She pointed at one of the forlorn plain-belly sneetches watching the game from the sidelines, and said, "That's me right there."
It's funny, but each generation teaches its children not to judge people by the color of their skin, and yet is accused by their children, when they grow up, of being racist to one degree or another. If Evangeline's attitude holds, I'm hoping her children won't be able to say any such thing.
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Yeah, kids give me a lot of hope. I remember trying to explain slavery to a class of 8 year olds, and when I finally got them to understand that people thought they were better based on the colour of their skin the confusion on their faces was just beautiful (the only time confusion on the faces of my students was actually a good thing!). It makes no sense at all, and I love that they see that.
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