Go ahead and tell your kids
The steamer Senator, painted by James Bard after its launch in 1848, when slavery was legal in 15 out of the 32 American states and only white men had the right to vote.
A teacher confided that he’s glad that school is out in his part of the country.
He’s relieved because it’s hard to figure out how to talk to kids about George Floyd.
There are so many scary and unpleasant details, but as an educator, I would begin by asking this question: Does a person have to have a perfect record in order to expect humane treatment and due process?
Children can handle complex ideas. But the idea that police officers must also follow the law is not particularly complex. That’s a good place to start.
It’s more challenging to add nuance to the good guys/bad guys dichotomy that many of us develop to make sense of the world, but it is critical. Children and adolescents often need to be reassured that they can do something wrong — even on purpose — and still be loved. People mess up, yet they are still worthy human beings, deserving of compassion. No one is all good or all bad — we have good behavior and bad behavior. George Floyd wasn’t perfect. Go ahead and tell your kids that he was a convicted felon. A felon and a father who should still be alive today.
It’s even more complicated to introduce the idea that for hundreds of years, we (meaning ourselves and our ancestors) have been taught that darker skin is a sign of inferiority, leading to colonialism and slavery and Jim Crow and poverty and mass incarceration and police brutality. But kids can understand the discomfort of facing something (or someone) unfamiliar, the desire to blame someone for one’s problems, and the safety of being part of a group. They can understand that human nature has an ugly side — they experience it in themselves. We all do. They can build a framework for understanding racism, regardless of their own background.
The law enforcement officials representing our justice system must follow its procedures exactly, no matter how they feel and no matter what the alleged criminal may have done. It’s sobering that our emotions can be driven by biases that we’re not even consciously aware of. However, it’s an important part of being an adult to prevent one’s feelings from controlling one’s actions. It’s scary for children and adolescents to confront the idea that adults can mess this up so badly that someone is killed. How can we teach them to trust the police if they can’t trust the police? I have no good answer for that one. But perhaps it goes back to the fundamental idea that no one is above the law, and everyone must face consequences for their actions.
None of this is political — that is, suggestive of a particular policy or partisan viewpoint. Deciding what to do about it is political. Every few decades since the founding of America, leaders, lawmakers, and courts have reevaluated the system, often making a significant tweak or two. Children might be intrigued to realize that they will someday have the power to not only advocate for their beliefs, but to influence others and the system itself.
While we want to help kids to feel safe and cared for, we must also teach them truths about the world — truths that may be omitted in school because they are sensitive, complex, and at the root of problems that have yet to be solved.
It may be tempting to clean up the facts in order to support a particular narrative, but real life is messy. We don’t need to make George Floyd a saint in order to convey that he mattered and his life had value. In fact, it’s important that we don’t. Let the kids see him as a real person.
Let the kids see that no one has all the answers — that every aspect of our society is the result of the choices and ideas of human beings just like them, and that we are all working together to improve it every day.
Teaching the next generation about the issues of the day is not easy, but it is utterly necessary. Education is the antidote to fear and prejudice and our best hope for a better world.