MLK Day: children and a doctor teaching the Golden Rule

When my youngest daughter was in preschool, she was enrolled in a Tots Class that was taught by our local high school students.

This is the Martin Luther King Day lesson she brought home that January......

This is the outside of a white egg

This is the outside of a brown egg

                            

what all eggs are like inside

                               

At four years old, she grasped the learning objective of the lesson.   Since she is a visual/kinetic learner, she still remembers that one lesson.  Forget the objective of the wordy Scholastic News Articles, what has stuck with her  is the "egg story" and the visual reminder that:

**No matter the outside appearances, we are all the same on the inside**. 

Whether the egg is white, brown or green or yellow-- the shell may be hard but it can break.  So, she has added this to her lesson: 

**handle all eggs well so they do not break**

The Golden Rule- which she now knows and Dr King followed, believed and hoped for, too.

And that's what she tries to remind herself, whether her friends wear different colors, wear glasses or use wheelchairs, whether they live on "theeee side" of town versus "thaaaaaat side of town" and whether they are the rising football star or the child that never gets picked for a team on the playground, she tries to treat everyone the same.

Sometimes, she does amazing at it and other times she needs a reminder and still others times, when she has been judged for her own exterior rather than her own interior, well, she would rather just hang out with the furry "eggs"  :) 

After all, she is still a child, not perfect--  and very busy learning neccasary human life lessons.  She is way ahead of a lot of the adults I know, though:

One day she said, "momma, why did that  lady ask you what daddy does?  Does she work for his company, too?"

"No, she doesn't honey"

"But momma, she didn't ask what you do......"

"I know, baby."

She doesn't like your egg color, does she?"

"Probably not, intuitive one"

"Im not sure what in-tune-tive means, momma, but that lady just walked away from the best friend she could have ever had"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you taught me to care about the inside momma, you don't really care about all the outside stuff. And because I taught you how to be a good friend.  I'm good at being a good friend, too"

Little one, I thought, that lady, she didn't want "a friend", she wanted a means to an end. 

I didn't explain "all of that" to her because Middle School is two years away and
that lesson is coming soon enough. 

Someday, I will have to explain about the frying pans: agendas and mind sets and personal motives, bigotry, racism, greed, and all of that where eggs end up cooking.  

For today, I let her still believe that the world can all be friends, that people actually want to  be friends.  I let her believe that because I believe in Dr King's dream, too.   Actually, I believe passionately in it because I grew up with a man who made racist remarks and segregated speeches.  Who thought he was better than Dr King, because of the color of my father's skin.  My white racist  (-no name calling, only identifiers)  father did not that when I first read Dr King's speech, I wished (with all my might-to myself) that Dr King could have been my father instead.  (Yes, there was one of the most important persons in my life who was far from perfect.  One of the primary reasons my heart is scarred, but not broken.  The man who probably thought he was teaching me to be better than the world, but instead, I took it upon myself to let the world teach me to be smaller than it).

Just a little reminder of Dr. King's dream and of the little children in our care.