On Not Raising Racists

My son, Elisha, age eight, was called a "racist" a few days ago. He was so upset by this he stayed home from school the following day. I asked him if he knows what a racist is, and he in fact came up with with a pretty accurate definition. It turns out that he passed on a comment made in our home by a close family friend, who also happens to be African-American-Israeli. Elisha didn't realize that when a white person suggests that the mistake in the picture on the Cheerios box is the black person next to the swimming pool, well, that's racist. He's right, Marvin said it first. That was confusing, but a lesson in the importance of avoiding all stereotyping, even of the self.

The following day my eldest daughter, Liora, age 18, had a shouting match with an employee at the hospital where she volunteers about the random hatred of Arabs. This is routinely practiced, albeit quietly, by some of the hospital staff. One woman even asked her, "don't you hate Arabs, too?" She tried at first to explain the difference between hating terrorism, hating war, hating oppression, hating an attitude, hating an untenable situation, and hating people. She gave that up after seeing the lack of sophistication in her opponent and simply answered that she was not raised to hate. Thank God.

In fact both of my daughters have had some blind test cases which have proven to support our efforts in raising without hate. Both Liora, cellist and Adina, violinist have spent many years participating in "Mat'an," the National Youth Orchestra program. One summer Liora served as principal cellist, seated opposite Nadim, concert master. I saw this as a stunning moment in the history of my child; national religious girl from the west bank seated across from Israeli Arab from northern village. Playing Haydn. Sharing the language of music. Perhaps less stunning yet equally impactful, this was the summer six religious boys woke up four secular boys every morning at 7 to make their minyan. And Adina spent the entire session explaining that yes, she is religious and yes, she is wearing pants. Craziness.

It begs the question, why are we a nation of knee-jerk racists? Why are we so quick to judge each other, and is this fact contributing anything positive to the formation of an advanced, sophisticated society? As an issue of security and survival there is no question. I am in favor of racial profiling, and would appreciate a separate line at the road block for Palestinian plates. But I would also like these things to become unnecessary and I will work towards that end, by teaching my children that they do not need to learn hate in order to protect themselves or our country.

A few years ago I gave a paper on psychodrama at Yad VaShem's International Conference on Teaching the Holocaust to Future Generations. The conference was attended by hundreds of educators from around the world. I became very friendly with a German woman who teaches at the University of Berlin. Her grandparents, she tells me, were Nazis. She remembers seeing their paraphernalia around the house. She made a conscious decision to pick herself up out of their mindset and dedicate her life to healing. I was awestruck by her courage and devotion.

At the same conference I met an Israeli, a teacher from the Tel Aviv area. She asked me in English where I was from, and I answered in Hebrew that I live in Efrat. She did not respond, but turned on her heels and walked away from me. I went out for dinner with my German friend whose grandparents were Nazis, a journalist from South Africa and the sign language interpreter. Am I missing something?