My son is good at his colors. He knows his favorites and those markers are always the first to dry, those pencils have the dullest tips, and those crayons are broken. Sometimes he will cover page after page in just one color. He has even figured out that mixing red and yellow –not favorites- makes his definitive favorite: orange. We have discussed whether the sun is yellow or orange. Despite my trying to nuance an answer about different times of the day, seasons, or points of view his vision rejects these grays and replaces them with black or white: the sun is orange, there is no question. As his language develops he more and more exercises words to define the things he sees. Look daddy, a bus. That is a pizza. A wow wow (dog). A book. A tire. Naturally this catalog becomes modified by color. There is little doubt that he loves trash trucks and this is certainly due to a boy’s passion for vehicles. However, the fact that many of the ones near his school are orange seems to have gained them a special place. Trash truck. Orange trash truck! He is also fascinated with people. He sees them through their differences in ways that suggest he is figuring out who he is by identifying what he is not. A man. A woman. A boy like me. A girl. A baby. Naturally these descriptions have also become colored. The other day we got in a taxi and he loudly pointed out that the driver was a black man. Almost without thinking I tried to quite him. Was I worried about the driver’s reaction? Did my concern come from how his words would reflect on me? Maybe I wanted to transmit to him that polite company in our culture does not include discussion of a person’s color. The moment was awkward and it no doubt confused my son.
This story reflects more about adults than it does children. He was, of course, correct. The driver was an African American. Somehow our society has gone far down the road of the politically correct. A long time ago our nuances transformed into euphemisms so muddled that we are unable to state the truth. Today it is more acceptable to say that one does not see color even though this is blatantly untrue. The blind have little problem distinguishing race and those of us with sight are aware of it on conscious and unconscious levels at all times. The legacies of superiority, discrimination, and marginalization are ingrained and ever-present. Pretending not to see it seems more likely to foment continuation rather than challenge established problems.
There are many ways to discuss these issues, but what interests me today is my son. Innocence is the source of many of children’s charms. Seeing them use experience to work through that purity is both a parent’s pride and life’s tragedy. The innocent voice reflects back the more complicated world in which it lives. This is why the young narrator is useful to storytelling. It cast the world’s image back at the adults. It makes patent the negative because we see the tragic nature of the bad on the child’s purity. With this in mind I must recommend Bianca Giaever’s short film The Scared is Scared. Made with a creativity that is at once testament to the director’s skill and the actors’ bravery, perhaps the aspect of the film that most affects me is the simple idea of representing a child’s narration; making the young girl’s ideas become real on the screen. This is not complex, but it emphasizes Giaever’s sensitivity and it should be applauded.
This story reflects more about adults than it does children. He was, of course, correct. The driver was an African American. Somehow our society has gone far down the road of the politically correct. A long time ago our nuances transformed into euphemisms so muddled that we are unable to state the truth. Today it is more acceptable to say that one does not see color even though this is blatantly untrue. The blind have little problem distinguishing race and those of us with sight are aware of it on conscious and unconscious levels at all times. The legacies of superiority, discrimination, and marginalization are ingrained and ever-present. Pretending not to see it seems more likely to foment continuation rather than challenge established problems.
There are many ways to discuss these issues, but what interests me today is my son. Innocence is the source of many of children’s charms. Seeing them use experience to work through that purity is both a parent’s pride and life’s tragedy. The innocent voice reflects back the more complicated world in which it lives. This is why the young narrator is useful to storytelling. It cast the world’s image back at the adults. It makes patent the negative because we see the tragic nature of the bad on the child’s purity. With this in mind I must recommend Bianca Giaever’s short film The Scared is Scared. Made with a creativity that is at once testament to the director’s skill and the actors’ bravery, perhaps the aspect of the film that most affects me is the simple idea of representing a child’s narration; making the young girl’s ideas become real on the screen. This is not complex, but it emphasizes Giaever’s sensitivity and it should be applauded.
