I would have asked but knew that I’d make myself open to some eye rolling. I wasn’t in the mood. Instead, I made a mental list of what I took away from the movie—my likes and dislikes. I’ll start with my likes:

1. Clareece ‘Precious’ Jones (Gabourey Sidibe) was believable and transcended this role beyond being a young black girl. Even with the significance of her skin color being a central theme to the movie, I could see other young women being able to identify with this character in spite of all of the unspeakable acts committed to her and against her.

2. In the midst of pain and anger Precious could still make me laugh and help me get through the process of accepting that humans are capable of committing the type of savagery the movie portrayed. I’m still trying to process that type of abuse.

3. The cast—Mo’nique, Mariah Carey, Paula Patton, Lenny Kravitz, Sherri Shepard and the supporting characters of classmates were played wonderfully.

4. The topic of incest was finally explored and unapologetically exposed. Surely it will help families, communities, churches, and schools talk about this subject that has been ignored far too long.

My dislikes:

1. How come we never knew why Mary was so frickin’ messed up in the head and heart? This was a woman who became a beast in desperation to be loved. She had to know the voices in her daughter’s head were the same voices she heard speaking to her: “You ugly. You Black. You stupid. Don’t nobody love you. Don’t nobody want you. “

Right? This really bugged me especially when they showed the other mother of the young girl who always tried to get Precious to pay attention to her in the hallways of their building. It was clear that this young girl’s mother was also angry, big and black who was beating her child. Remember her black eye at the end? So as a viewer, I saw another vision of the Black matriarch who was pissed off. I wanted to know why. I was left to my own imagination:

Systemic racism? Reaganomics that created a permanent underclass? The “War on Drugs?” Crack?

I might get it (or not), but what about folks that don’t know anything about those things? What would they come away with? And why was I left with the image of Black baby mama = Welfare Queen?

2. While I loved the roles both Paula Patton and Mariah Carey portrayed I could not help being disappointed that they both were fair skinned women when Precious had such an issue with her dark skin. Basically all the dark -skinned people in the movie were bad. All the fair- skinned people were good. What’s up with that?

3. I hated that Mary, Precious and her entire family called her daughter, “Mongo” short for Mongoloid. I hated it because I could completely see “that type” of family doing something “ignorant”  like that. It got on my nerves and made me laugh, which irritated me even more as I recognized my own sense of “rightness” and judgmental attitude.

What are your thoughts about the movie? Did it challenge you to think about your stereotypes of the black Matriarch or make them more clearly defined? What are your thoughts about Precious’ father who “got away” without persecution in the movie? What were you left feeling about Mary in the end?

I will be thinking about this movie for a long time.

Years ago when I was a tween, my oldest brother had a pace car. It was a beautiful gray and blue Camaro with “Indy 500″ tattooed on its sides. I remember everybody pointing at that car and commenting on how amazing it was no matter where my brother drove it. I could not figure out the love affair, but admittedly I loved sports cars for years for this reason. 

As my husband continued describing his experience, I quickly realized how little I knew about the role a pace car fulfills. I knew nothing about the sport of racing (and still know very little). However, what I heard about the pace car quickly made me think about our job as parents, educators and care providers. As explained to me the role of a pace car fulfills four things:

1. Sets the tone of the race.

2. Leads the drivers to help them become familiar with the track.

3. Limits the speed of competing cars when there may be danger such as obstruction on the track.

4. When done with the above, gets off the track and allows the competitors to finish the race.

In general the pace car is very much like parenting: We create an environment for our children to live and develop in, helping them to learn the world as we see it . We try to protect them from the dangers that our world holds whether they be installing safety mechanisms on our stairs in our homes for our newly crawling babies or helping our teenagers navigate peer pressure. And hopefully after we have nurtured, loved, and taught our children we will get out of their way to allow them to be adults.

This is very much the role I hope parents will take in raising compassionate and open-minded children (I call this being “mindhearted”). Essentially, it is our job to set the tone for examining the values our children will see lived out in their own lives. Do we set a tone of curiosity or do we create a tone of rigidity? When it comes to concepts like race, class, sexual identity, religion, notions of beauty, and differences in general do we help them become familiar with this diverse world or do we allow them only to see our small individual worlds?

These concepts played out in real life can be quite traumatic and hurtful, limit civil rights and determine where we live and how we live. As parents it is up to us to help navigate this tricky path for our children, especially when we have children who are “different” whether it be because of their gender, physical or mental ability, size, or race, to help protect them from the dangers that “being different” brings. When it is all said and done, we can only impart our lessons, pass on what we know and how we live, and then hope for the best,letting go and allowing our children to grow up and live their lives as they see fit.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about my role as a “pace car” for my child. My hope is to raise a mindhearted child who is confident and loving, peaceful, passionate and generous. I hope to set the appropriate pace, gently share the “watch-outs” and eventually allow her to navigate her own path to hopefully be a pace car for someone else.  What are your thoughts about how the role of a pace car is similar to parenting? What kind of pace car will you be?  

Dear L.B.,

Thinking about concepts like these often lead to more questions than complete answers.  As the update for my friend’s Facebook relationship status says, “It’s complicated.”  Because you asked the question above,  I am confident that you are already on a path that supports your daughter in being a racially healthy pre-schooler.  Given that, I will share three suggestions that will support you in your efforts:

1.   Nurture self-worth.

This is an opportunity to think about the values you convey to your daughter.  How do you rate your daughter’s or others worth?  Is it based on physical appearance or race?  Or is it based on character and behavior?  How are skin color and other physical attributes like hair assessed in your home?  

I have a relative who always reflects on the hurtful statement she heard growing up, “You are so pretty to be dark.” Can you imagine what that might mean to a child?  In my relative’s case it conveyed that dark was not supposed to be beautiful.  Despite her obvious physical and inner beauty, she could not find the courage to believe anyone who complimented her for years.  Ensure that others around your daughter, like extended family understand what nurturing looks, sounds, and behaves like.  

Children who are raised in a nurturing environment where they feel supported, valued, and loved have the best chance of developing a positive self-image.  It’s important for children to feel positive personal esteem in order to feel positive racial esteem.

2.   Follow your child’s lead.

Unless your daughter raises a question or initiates conversation about skin color, be careful about bringing it up at such a young age. Once they do, (and they will), be sure to follow their lead.  However, young children do not think about race in the same way as adults.  They won’t understand race as a social construct. For them skin color is related to the crayon box.  If your child does ask or initiate conversation about race, it’s important to understand what she is asking.  

One day while driving, my daughter was in the back seat and found something under the seat.  Once she could see it in full view she exclaimed, “It’s the white girl!”  My mind was racing and I could not figure out why she described a doll this way because we generally don’t use racial descriptors to describe people (unless it is relevant).  Like most parents I got really uncomfortable that my child had made an observation about race (or so I thought).  Most of us are taught that talking about race is rude (mostly if you are Caucasian) or that you don’t talk about it around others (mostly if you are a Person of Color).  

I calmly asked her to tell me about the doll.  She said the doll under her seat had on an all white dress. Oh!  If I had not checked out my assumptions I may have been talking to her about something that completely had no relevance for her and could have possibly conveyed that her future questions about race were out of line.  

If your daughter does initiate conversation about skin color (or any marker of differences), absolutely respond to her questions calmly and in a supportive manner.

3.   Give away childhood baggage.

I always encourage parents to be aware of the impact their own experiences may have on their children’s learning about skin color (and all markers of differences).    While I was growing up there were many things that happened to me and my family based on race and color.  I won’t go into details now, but because of those experiences I quickly came to believe that race was THE most important thing about me for a long time (with gender closely following).  Sometimes when “things” occur, I am very careful to check out my feelings and ideas to ensure that I am not making my experiences around color or gender my daughter’s experience.  

Here are a few questions to ask yourself as you think more about these concepts:  

• How comfortable am I in my own skin?  
• If I am comfortable, how does this translate through my actions and conversation with or around my daughter?  
• How might it not translate?  
• If I am not comfortable with my own skin color, how might I be translating this through my actions and conversations with or around my daughter?  
• What types of people, if any make me most self-conscious about my own skin color?  
• Why or why not?  

These questions may seem innocuous but I suspect the answers may provide some insight that may help you as you move along the continuum of parenting a racially healthy pre-schooler.