"Parenthood" on Race

My wife and I have been watching NBC's "Parenthood" on Netflix. We are a few episodes into the fourth season. For anyone who hasn't heard of it yet, I'd highly recommend it, especially to you young parents out there.

The other night we watched the episode titled "The Talk" (Season 4, episode 4) which had a surprising impact on me. A mixed-race couple—he is white, she is black—have to explain the word "nigga" to their eight-year-old son. His dad works at a recording studio and the son, Jabar, overheard a hip hop artist use the word. I've been thinking a lot about race in America in light of the recent events across the country. And while I've been saddened, baffled, and angry at different points, for one reason or another, this simple little episode of a TV show really broke me down.

I was impressed with how the writers handled the talk in the episode. Jabar's mother was straight forward, explaining how, a long time ago, white people used to own black people as slaves. She explained that "nigga" came from "n------", a word used to make black people feel less important and less human. I think this scene is incredible because I would imagine that, before they watched it on network television, most white people, me included, didn't realize that black parents have to have "the talk" at all, and giving it a prime time stage is incredibly important.

Later that night, my wife Agata asked me what about the scene got to me; who was I feeling for? I think I was feeling for both of the parents together. I can't fathom having to explain something as horrid as slavery and its lingering racism to an innocent child. The show is set in Berkeley, and Jabar attends an upper-middle-class charter school, so he is relatively shielded from much of the racism present in our big cities and in the South. You can see him struggle to understand why someone would treat someone as less than human simply because his or her skin is a different color. As a new parent myself, imagining seeing my own son trying to grasp hatred and bigotry is crushing. A child's reaction to the ridiculousness of adult behavior should give us pause: aren't we the ones who are supposed to be wise and mature? Aren't we the ones who are supposed to be the protectors of the weak and the teachers of morality?

The scene also nicely highlights the privilege of being white in this country. Crosby, Jabar's father, mainly sits on the sideline, letting his wife Jasmine do the talking. Crosby just doesn't have the same experience or understanding as she does. Likewise, I will never have to sit down with Ira and explain to him why the majority of this country sees him as different. I won't have to explain racial slurs directed towards him. He won't have to experience the racial profiling of our law enforcement. Ira has the privilege of being treated as a man, not as a black man. Maybe someday our society will fulfill Dr. King's dream, but for now, the content of our character still doesn't seem to matter as much as the color of our skin, and as parents of any color, it's part of our job to explain that to our children.

I'm a firm believer that somebody has to be taught to hate. People can be scared or uncomfortable around the unfamiliar, but for somebody to have actual hatred towards difference, that requires coaching, and practice. People hate because somebody taught them it was the right way to behave and feel, either directly or through their own example. By contrast, love comes relatively naturally, and the simple devotion of a child demonstrates that. One day I will have to sit down with Ira and explain why other people still judge one another by the color of their skin and how his life is different from other people who might not look the same as he and I. I'll need to explain other people's hatred and prejudice. And he will be sad and confused, because it won't have made a difference to him if his friends are this race or that race, because to him people will just be people, and therefore worthy of our love and respect. Perhaps we adults should step aside and learn a thing or two from our children.