I Was A Kindergarten Racist

The announced decision of publishers to recall six of Dr. Seuss’ beloved books, in
March, 2021, was the first time I’d heard the phrase, “Cancel Culture.” And like millions
of Americans, I was disgusted and upset.
“What’s next?”, I fumed. “Are we going to ban Cinderella because of those little gray
rodents (aka mice) Jaq and Gus, her loyal sidekicks?”
When I discovered that “If I Ran the Zoo” and McElligot’s Pool,” two of my personal
favorites as an early reader, my angst was almost unbearable until my alter-ego,
Grannie Ani, interceded, urging me to do the research.
The truth is that those two Seuss titles, and the other four stories--all sacred books for
generations of American children--are packed with racist stereotypes that, as I child, I
never recognized.
Now I remember that Dr. Seuss was born in 1907. I’m going to give him a little slack
just because back in the first half of the twentieth century, Black people were still being
called the N-word. And hardly anyone raised an eyebrow. To be honest, it really was a
racist half-century. And it is sad to admit, but starting school in 1950, I was raised under
the ugly cloud of racism that I, all too often, bought into.
Little Valerie and her peers thought nothing of the swear, “Honest injun,” even though
“Scout’s Honor” was two fewer syllables and far less offensive.
Sitting on the rug in Mrs. Fox’s nursery school class, I sang, along with all of my white
peers, “One Little, Two Little, Three Little Indian Boys,” learning to count backward,
“...Until there was only one little Indian boy!”
“Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah”, the Uncle Remus theme song from Walt Disney’s Song of the
South was almost an anthem for little kids in the 50s. Little white kids, that is. The
song, by the way, is no longer played at Disneyland Resort due to its racist history.
Once I began revisiting my Nursery and Kindergarten years and all the racist innuendos
that I shared with my little (mostly white) friends, I began to understand how those racist
stereotypes have been carried forward to 2021.

Memoir 1st add

Looking at the images of the thousands of gray-bearded, red-faced, plump-bellied
rioters and insurrectionists on January 6, I realized that, like me, they’d been
brainwashed as little kids.
Most of us over age 65, were tucked in bed with Mother Goose stories. I am sure that
it’s been corrected in subsequent editions of this treasured collection, but the 1917
edition, for example, was shockingly racist, including “Eeny Meeny.”
Younger generations will never quite understand why, in the 1950s, Little Black Sambo
was a children’s classic. How did I or anyone else know that the Little Black Sambo we
read was actually an American redux of Scottish author Helen Bannerman’s illustrated
Little Black Sambo, of East Indian heritage? I’m guessing that marketing an East Indian
children’s story was a non-starter in the American book trade.
And how about some of those racist children's songs we grew up with back in the day?
Check this out!
Almost every kid I went to school with enjoyed a steady television diet of The Lone
Ranger (1949), Hopalong Cassidy (1949), Gunsmoke (1955), and Cheyenne (1956).
There was Father Knows Best (1954), and I Love Lucy (1951) to remind us what life
was like in the white middle class. The only reprieve for black folks was Beulah (1950),
the quintessential maid, and Amos ‘N’ Andy (1955), the quintessential entrepreneurial
fools.
Grannie Ani reminded me that the middle-aged Proud Boys and Oath Keepers who
stormed our nation’s capital represent the white boys I went to school with, grew up
with, sat next to in school and had crushes on. Both Grannie Ani and I don’t fancy that
this memoir will stick with those white boys I used to play tetherball with, but for younger
generations who have to tolerate dad’s, uncle’s, or grandpa’s racist rants at every family
get-together, we wish you Empathy. Your loud, angry, old racist relative is reliving the
1950s. And he just hasn’t yet come off the rug.