On May 28, 2020, flames engulfed a cleaners shop near the former Third Police Precinct in Minneapolis, Minnesota, amidst protests following the tragic death of George Floyd.
There’s a direct connection between the location where George Floyd lost his life and the site where the police precinct once stood, now reduced to ashes. In between those two points lies my home, where I live with my children.
My children, like me, have white skin. If these events weren’t unfolding right outside our door, I might not have felt compelled to discuss them with my little ones. After all, they are only two and four years old. Perhaps I would have chosen not to say anything at all. But since we live in this reality, I knew I had to share something with them.
I felt the urgency to explain because their bike training wheels crunch the ash beneath them as they ride. I needed to talk to them because our voices must rise above the helicopters buzzing overhead. It was simply the right thing to do.
The challenge was finding the right words. I was anxious about saying the wrong thing. My worries held me back until the fourth day after George Floyd was killed, but I realized that allowing fear to silence me wasn’t an option any longer.
When I finally began to speak, something interesting happened. I noticed this pattern whenever I address difficult topics with my children: the act of articulating my thoughts for them helps me clarify my own understanding. Simplifying complex issues for kids brings to light what truly matters.
We started our conversation in the backyard, where I was surprised by how easily the discussion unfolded. The air was thick with the scent of smoke, reminiscent of a campfire fueled by tires rather than wood, and my children were curious about it. I seized the opportunity to tell them it was related to something significant we needed to discuss.
I explained that there is a situation here that involves fairness. I reminded them of our past conversations about how some people are treated unfairly due to the color of their skin. I told them that in our neighborhood, someone was treated very unjustly, and many people are now raising their voices to ensure it doesn’t happen again.
When I mentioned that someone was hurt because of their skin color, I told them the name of that person: George Floyd. I shared that he enjoyed playing football and worked at a restaurant, and that he had dark skin.
I also had to convey that it was police officers who caused George Floyd’s harm. I affirmed my children’s understanding that police officers are meant to protect, not to hurt. I echoed their sentiment that such individuals should no longer serve in that capacity.
Sadly, this incident is not isolated; there have been many similar occurrences over the years, leading to widespread anger about the injustice. I referenced the movie Inside Out, explaining how Riley’s anger helps ensure fairness—just as our entire community’s anger is currently driving the quest for justice.
I reminded them of our discussions about being in the “red zone” when we feel angry, emphasizing that some individuals protesting for what is right are feeling out of control and have damaged property. This explains the ash at their feet and the smoke in the air, along with the sounds of sirens and helicopters.
While it’s normal to feel sad about the damaged buildings, I emphasized that it’s far more tragic that a person was hurt and that many others have suffered similarly due to racial discrimination. People always come first, ahead of possessions.
Fortunately, many individuals recognize this truth, and countless people in our neighborhood, city, and across the nation are uniting to advocate for what is right. There are various ways to take a stand—some protest, some repair damaged structures, some donate money, and others create signs that convey messages like “Black Lives Matter.” Our family is involved in some of these efforts. No matter how small, every action counts; the key is to take action.
As is common in conversations with young children, our dialogue meandered in unexpected directions. For instance, we briefly imagined woolly mammoths on the moon before returning to our local reality. While exploring our neighborhood—the same area where George Floyd was killed—my children noticed every speck of ash, every helicopter, and every sign emblazoned with messages of justice. Together, we worked to comprehend the world around us.
I understand that our discussions may not have been perfect. I know I didn’t convey every detail flawlessly. However, perfection should not be the goal; what truly matters is that we initiated the conversation.
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In summary, having open discussions about difficult subjects with children is crucial, even if the words don’t come out perfectly. What matters most is that we engage in these conversations to foster understanding and empathy in our young ones.