By Elizabeth Johnsen for The Opportunity Agenda
Just weeks into the 2020-2021 school year, my 4-year-old son came home from his progressive Brooklyn preschool telling me about the Black Lives Matter (BLM) principle he had learned: loving engagement. He told me that “it means to be fair, peaceful, and always treat people with love.” This was just one of several guiding principles of the Black Lives Matter movement that my preschooler came home talking about. He learned about what it means to be unapologetically Black through music and books such as “I Love My Hair” by Natasha Tarpley and “Trombone Shorty” by Troy Andrews, as well as songs by Nina Simone.
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He also came home talking about the Black Lives Matter movement itself, which was powerfully visible in our community that year. He and his classmates, gently led by their informed and caring teachers, had open conversations about what was happening in the city – and the nation – around them, from protests against the police to calls for racial justice. Always focused on what they could do as little “changemakers,” the class discussed civic actions they could take, landing on painting a Black Lives Matter sign for the front of their school.
We, mostly white parents, were included in this curriculum. We were encouraged to continue the conversations at home using the age-appropriate language and framing recommended by our children’s teachers. They sent us resources, such as Laleña Garcia’s activity book, “What We Believe,” and Black Lives Matter at School, as guides for talking about diversity, ableism, LGBTQ pride, and racial justice (as well as injustice) in preschool-appropriate ways. We did not shy away from telling our kids the truth – for example, that we are living on the land of the Lenape people, which was wrongly stolen from them – and admitting that we all can do better at “being fair, peaceful, and always treating people with love.”
Despite what many of us are hearing from conservative politicians and media personalities, I will tell you this: my preschooler’s understanding of these social justice concepts, delivered in such a carefully age-appropriate way, brought him no feelings of guilt, shame, or confusion. In fact, just the opposite. They helped him speak with terms of compassion and empathy. I heard it first-hand when he would say things like “it doesn’t seem fair that there aren’t any brown skinned people in this movie” when watching an old Disney film or “I’m going to tell the mayor to build a wheelchair ramp on this playground” so his disabled grandmother could join him.
The curriculum also helped my son better understand the diverse and beautiful, yet sometimes confusing and scary world we were living through: a world where we walked past floral memorials and photographs of neighbors lost to COVID-19; a world where we banged pots and pans every night in appreciation for the hospital workers leaving their 7 p.m. shifts, most of whom were women of color; a world where the Black Lives Matter protests of June 2020 could be heard from our apartment windows (as well as the helicopters); a world where we rushed to the streets in stunned celebration mere seconds after hearing that Trump had lost the election.
In less than one year, he witnessed all of this. So when he returned to preschool that fall, my 4-year-old had big, curious questions.
I am so grateful that we attended a preschool with a director and teachers who recognized this. Teachers who were open and ready to take on these children’s questions honestly, inclusively, and appropriately.
Children are smart. They see the world around them and they take it in. As much as we try, we cannot shield them from all of it. And why should we? They are curious little beings, active participants in our society. They deserve to be engaged in conversations (appropriately, with careful guidance) about the world around them, including its injustices and complexities. As maturity allows, it is important to teach students about the history of this country, and how we got here.
This is where I mention critical race theory (CRT), the term that can divide us before even being defined for us.
Developed in American law schools in the mid-1970s, critical race theory is an academic framework that examines the role of race in the law. It focuses on challenging approaches to racial justice that do not address the lingering effects of racial inequality in the United States. As a theory, CRT finds its roots in critical legal studies, feminism, and social and political philosophy. Today, its use has broadened to include the discussion and examination of our history and the legacy of racial inequality.
Many people, including progressives, are hesitant to talk about critical race theory. They worry that conservatives and the media have made it too divisive. Other people have responded to the attacks on critical race theory by asserting that this theory is not being taught in K-12 schools, which is true. But these responses don’t meet the moment we are in — an opportunity to call for an education that reflects the diverse history of our country; one that is honest and inclusive.
Today’s schoolchildren will be adults in an increasingly diverse society. Teaching them about new and diverse perspectives will help them grow into engaged, informed, and empathetic adults. Critical race theory can help students learn from our past mistakes as a country, so that we can build a better future. I believe they are eager for these conversations. Children are capable of so much more than we often present.
I have been wowed by this myself, watching my son and his group of preschool friends — who soon start their first day of 1st grade — grow into such conscientious and impassioned little changemakers. As cheesy as it sounds, I am learning from them myself.
Of course, I recognize that it gets more complicated as children mature, and that we are talking about public school education — the curriculum of which has always been (and probably always will be) debated in our country.
I also recognize that my child attended a private preschool with diverse leadership and staff, in a progressive and diverse neighborhood of New York City. I get that other parts of America look and feel very different. I know because I grew up in a very different part of America. But no matter our zip code, skin color, or background, we should all have an equal opportunity to learn from our shared history of slavery and segregation in order to challenge the status quo and work toward a better future: one that is racially just.
The educational value I found in my son’s preschool curriculum, the way it has helped shape him into such an intelligent, compassionate, and empathetic kid, is something I believe should be shared in schools across the country, at all ages.
As we begin another school year, I hope that parents — particularly white parents like me — will think of critical race theory as an honest and inclusive approach to education. I hope they will consider it with curiosity and compassion, rather than hasty conviction. I hope that parents will see how examining our nation’s history in a truthful way can help our children understand what it means “to be fair, peaceful, and treat people with love.”
We shouldn’t underestimate our children’s understanding of these issues. They are paying attention to the world around them, and they want to talk about it.
For values-based resources on critical race theory, visit The Opportunity Agenda’s website.
Elizabeth Johnsen is the Director of Program Management and Impact at The Opportunity Agenda. She is a writer, communications strategist, and Brooklyn-based mom.
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