I Win

My daughter told me yesterday that something that I said casually was "kind of racist." I objected at first, and then thought about it a little. She was right.

When I was her age I didn't even know the word racist. I'm not proud of that, nor of the continuing reprogramming I have to do to be aware of the ways in which I benefit from my white privilege. Nor of the things like yesterday when I don't even know I'm doing it.

But I am proud that S knows the word, what it means, and how to recognize it even in subtle forms. And that she's calling me on my shit when I need to be called on it.

Despite my terminal un-hip-ness* I must be doing something right in the parenting department.


*According to S, "I just think I'm so cool but I don't have any idea what's really cool." I really don't, especially if it has to do with Hannah Montana. She's right about that too.