"Mama, look at HIM!"

"Mama, look at HIM!"

Dear Amie,

We are eating dinner on the patio at a nice restaurant with family from out of town.  My five year old daughter is playing on the deck with her three cousins.  Suddenly she runs over to me laughing and pointing at a man with dwarfism who is also walking on the deck (he is a waiter) saying, "Mama, look at him!"  My daughter, who is pretty comfortable and familiar with differences such as people with wheelchairs, amputations, blindness, as well as all colors of skin, literally has her jaw hanging down.  I glance at her cousins, who are well versed in "politeness" and wouldn't dare to say such a thing and realize this is not necessarily what I want to teach here....

You’re right -- politeness isn’t the only virtue. We know that all children notice differences and are naturally curious. In many ways, we seek to encourage children’s curiosity as we foster their critical thinking skills. Yet when it comes to noticing physical differences, many parents unintentionally shut down their kids' curiosity. We scold our children out of pointing and staring, which overlays bad feelings -- shame, fear, and confusion – on their experience of someone who is different. We want our kids to be curious, but also learn to be curious in ways that don’t single people out, embarrass, or insult. 

I remember an experience with my daughter Ella when she was about three years old. We were at a hot springs and another family came into the pool with an adult child with significant physical and cognitive disabilities. Her mother was floating her in the water, holding her daughter beneath her arms and legs while she laughed and splashed, just like I was floating Ella. “Mama,” Ella asked me, “Is that a baby?” “That’s her daughter,” I replied. “She’s a really big baby,” Ella observed. Later in the dressing room the mom was gently drying and dressing her daughter as she lay on a bench. Ella walked up and rested her hands on the daughter’s legs and began to ask her questions. “Can you walk? Can you talk?” I felt my anxiety rise: Was this OK? Should I be pulling her back, telling her not to ask these questions? Quickly, my tension dissipated as the mom began happily engaging with Ella, explaining about her daughter’s disabilities. “She doesn’t talk, but couldn’t you tell how she loved that water?” Before we left, the mom thanked me for letting Ella ask questions. “So often people try to be polite but end up treating us like we don’t exist.” 

Clearly every situation is different, and your waiter may or may not have been open to talking about his experience with dwarfism. But you certainly can engage in the conversation with your child and her cousins. “I do see! Have you seen someone who looks like that before? Just like you were born with brilliant blue eyes, some people’s bodies grow big and some grow small. What do you think about that?” As parents, our biggest hurdle is often our own discomfort. If we see our children’s questions as some poor reflection on ourselves, we might move quickly to shut them down. But in the end, what we want is for our children to be comfortable with differences- not just stiffly polite. Comfort comes from exposure, openness, and dialogue. It is our job to be ready to turn that curiosity -- no matter how it’s presented -- into an opportunity for learning.