Our Skin is Dark

Morning time comes early around our house. My little boy Sammy loves to climb up the stairs and crawl into bed with me for morning time snuggles. This morning wasn’t one of those mornings where he would fall back to sleep. He lay on his back and put his hand in the air, turning it from side to side. I put my hand up and did the same not really knowing why I was copying him.

That’s when Sam said, “Daddy, our skin is dark…just like Ethan’s”. I knew Ethan is one of Sam’s best buds at day care but I didn’t quite know what to say at first. After a moment, we lay there in the morning darkness and we talked about how skin can be different colour just like how Sam’s eyes are green and mine are blue.

In the black room, our skin was indeed dark. But in the light, Sam’s skin is anything but dark. A red head with green eyes and fair coloured skin.

At three years and seven months, I had never heard Sam mention anything like this before. I know now that he recognizes the difference in skin colour, but to him, it’s just colour. Him and Ethan are best buds and that’s all there is to it.

I found myself thinking that this isn’t just the innocence of kids that I was experiencing. This is really the way things are, the way things are meant to be. My child lives in his own world where racism does not exist. It’s a world without prejudice to culture or religion. One where we see people for who they really are and not just for what they look like.

Sam teaches me to see the world through the eyes of a child. To see the world as it should be. One that I knew before I grew up.

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