The Inclusive Child

A few months ago, when the riots were going on in Baltimore, I took this picture.

noh8

I snapped it quickly and didn’t make a big deal out of it, because honestly, it shouldn’t be. Yet every time I come across it in my phone I smile. My daughter has friends of every color. She knows and adores adults regardless of how they identify or who they love.

We talked to her about Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and how before the Civil Rights movement, our neighbors wouldn’t have been able to get married. Or how the other two girls in this picture wouldn’t have been able to play with her or go to the same school.

“That’s just… dumb.” She sputtered.

Then we talked about how two of our favorite women are finally able to get married in a few months, when they couldn’t before.

“What does it matter?” she asked. “They’re awesome.”

She sees me watching the news and asks about the presidential race.

“You mean before him, there weren’t any people with brown skin to be president? And there’s never been a girl president??” she scoffs.

I can’t speak for the younger one yet, we’re still working on what the word ‘no’ means. But with this one… I think we might’ve done something right.

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