The other day at the dinner table, Eleanor put her index fingers on the outside of her eyes and pulled them up to give herself “slit-eyes”. She was smiling and saying “Look at me!” Bernard and I sat there in stunned silence and then, after a moment, Bernard said firmly to Eleanor “Don’t do that!”
She kept doing it until she realized that neither of us were going to respond. I was purposefully ignoring her by trying to distract Miranda. This happened before I knew about the photo of the Spanish Olympic basketball team:
Neither Bernard nor I are particularly political, especially when it comes to Asian American issues, but Eleanor’s imitation of something she learned at school was offensive to both of us. We both immediately thought, “I hope there isn’t some parent at the daycare that taught their kid to do this.”
What bothers me the most is that it makes me feel like this country hasn’t progressed since thirty years ago when I was belittled by kids on the playground speaking “gobbledy-gook Chinese” to me. Every racial minority in America has a moment in their childhood when they realize that they aren’t white and that it’s going to make a difference to their future. I was six years old and just like Pecola Breedlove in Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye, I wanted blond hair and blue eyes too. I was hoping this wouldn’t be an issue with Eleanor and Miranda, but I guess I was wrong.