During freshman year, when I was frequently the only black student in class, it didn’t bother me so much, but the novelty of being the only one with brown skin (and brown experiences) wore off quickly. I was tired of being the de facto spokesperson for All Things Black. When a (usually well-meaning) white student would ask one of these questions, it was all I could do to not say, “Hold on—let me call Headquarters.”
Fast forward a few years and now I am a mom myself. And my daughter attends a small lily-white private school. There, she is not a “sprinkle.” She’s more like the errant curly fry you find at the bottom of the bag when you ordered a large order of regular ones. When I say she’s the only black girl at her school, I mean that she is the only black girl at her school. To be fair, there are some Asian students and some Indian students. And when I say “some,” I mean about six.
I can’t even be upset about this, can I? I mean, I researched the school and toured the school and picked the school and sent in the tuition check to the school. I knew it wasn’t going to be too diverse. But the reason I chose the school is because I’ve known parents who’ve sent their kids there and they are thrilled about their child’s education. Plus, the school would let my daughter enter kindergarten at age four, whereas my local public school told me to come back in 365 days. I want my daughter to get a great education, and waiting another year to start that journey didn’t feel right for us. She was already bored in preschool and the teacher frequently sent her to sit in the older classes. Another year of that didn’t seem right. So we chose to send her to private school for kindergarten.
So far, the school is excellent in every way and her teacher is incredible. She came home a couple months ago with a photojournalism project — a photojournalism project, people. In addition to teaching thirteen rambunctious kindergarteners every day, my daughter’s teacher also has a farm with chickens, a pumpkin patch, apple trees and more. Each year she bring the kids out there every year for a day of fun. They average about two field trips a month and the school is rocking my socks off academically.
And the race issue hasn’t even come up. Well, not really. She recently had a small issue at school where one of her (white, female) classmates insisted on touching her hair every day. I told my daughter to ask the little girl to stop. So my daughter did. The little girl’s response? “I just think your hair is so pretty.”
I guess I’m also using this as a teachable moment for my kids. They’re still young (5 and 3) so their concepts of race only go as far as “I have tan skin” and “she has red hair.” But as she gets older, those differences will become more apparent, not necessarily in her eyes, but as par for the course in society.
So far I’ve found a couple ways to keep me comfortable. I keep in frequent contact with the teacher, volunteering as much as I can so that I am a familiar face at the school (which I’d be doing anyway). Between chaperoning on the field trips and serving as recess monitor, I’m at her school enough where I feel I will be aware of any issues that may arise.
I want to make the best decisions for my kids that I know how. I know my daughter is a beautiful, smart brown girl who can thrive anywhere. I know this with every fiber of my being. And so does she.
How many of you found yourself in a similar situation? What do you do when the school of choice is not as diverse as you might have preferred?
About the author
Tara Pringle Jefferson is managing editor of BlackAndMarriedWithKids.com. She’s also the author of Make It Happen: The Young Mommy Guide To Creating The Career You Crave. Follow her on Twitter or check out her blog for her insights on what it means to be a mom, wife, student, writer, and about three other labels she’s too tired to remember.
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