We Have The Same Name!

I am a firm believer in avoiding two things: politics and religion.  While what has been happening in the United States is not based in either, it has become politicized.  So today, I am going to make an exception and tell you a story.

I was under five years old, I am not sure of the exact age as this is a story my mother use to tell, when I met a man of colour for the first time.  It was the early 1970s, so take a moment to picture the scene, go ahead I'll wait.  He was travelling, up from the United States, and had stopped at the store in our little town.  

My mother says that she held her breath waiting to hear what I would say when I first saw him.  It wasn't much I said hello and told him my name, as little kids often do.  He said hi back and told me his.

After the encounter, according to my mother, it was not the colour of his skin or his clothes that interested me, it was his name.  I was most excited about the fact that he and I had the same name.

Currently all over social media there are stories, videos, and photos of children of different races running to embrace each other, or dressing the same so their teachers cannot tell them apart.  These are not new, but have resurfaced as reminders.  Perhaps it is time we took a moment, stepped back, and let the children teach us something.