When I was pregnant with my first child, I was obsessed with reading about what fruit size he was on a weekly basis. I was fixated on what stroller and car seat to buy. I devoured books to find the perfect name. I deliberated over which outfit he?d wear on his way home from the hospital. But I never read anything on how I could protect my son from bigotry and racism.
Looking back, I realize how naïve I?d been about becoming a parent.
I never thought that I?d need an emergency c-section to deliver my child whose umbilical cord was wrapped tightly around his neck nor did I think that my son?s skin colour would dictate how he was treated by other parents at the park. I was just another first-time mom who devoured pregnancy books and obsessed about her growing belly. As a former refugee and proud Canadian, I was excited about what the future would have in store for my kids, and optimistic that they might be able to avoid the ignorance and outright prejudice I experienced. The world, unfortunately, has not changed that much since I was a child. Now that I?m a parent of two young kids, I?ve had to learn how to teach my children about bigotry while teaching them how to tie their shoes. This is just part of life as we know it.
When I was around 10 years old, my family settled in southwestern Ontario as refugees. We had fled a civil war in Uganda and a woman from a church in London, Ont., sponsored us. I can still feel the relief I had just knowing that my dad would come home th...