The Benefits of Multiculturalism (I think)

The other day my girls were doing what my girls do best—“dress up time.” However, this was at my brother’s house and there weren’t that many dress up options so out came the bed sheets. My seven year old, Moira, made her sheet an “African Princess” skirt. My three year old, Evie, was getting her head shawl or something adjusted when she said “That like a Muslim.” Muslim. Everyone just looked at each other in disbelief. How is my three year old an expert on Muslim fashion? This particular situation is still a bit of a mystery, however, thanks to my wife, who feels the need to befriend all of our neighbors who don’t speak fluent English, my children are receiving a steady multicultural, multireligious, multisomething education.

For example, Moira and Evie were playing emergency hospital with our neighbor’s little girl. These neighbors are Hindu. Diksha, age three, happened to be the doctor in charge. My wife was teasing her about being such a young doctor and wondering how she squeezed so many years of medical school into her short life. Moira had the answer—“She went to school in her past life.”

Another incident occurred at the zoo where they have placed a statue of the Hindu god Ganesha on the walkway that leads to, of course, the Asian otters and orangutans. In bad taste? I think so. But when we were there with our Hindu neighbors they didn’t see it as disrespectful zoo kitsch—they were rather pleased. My wife’s friend Anita said a prayer and then, oblivious to zoo protocol on flora and fauna, picked a big flower from the landscaping and placed it on the statue. This thrilled Evie who is very keen on picking things in general—flowers, noses, etc. and we had to rush to stop her from following suite. Meanwhile she’s yelling “That your god! That your god!” ON TO THE ASIAN OTTERS, ANYONE?


Meanwhile at our other neighbor’s house my kids drink from mugs that say I Allah and have conversations with six year old, Ariful, about God and church and mosques and why he can’t eat hot dogs because they have pork in them. “But I like hot dogs,” he yells. “You can’t eat them,” yells Moira. “AAAAAAAAAAAA,” he screams. (Maybe we should teach her about all-beef hot dogs.) And these neighbors are from Bangladesh and do not dress in burkas—thus, Evie’s comment—still a mystery.

My wife and I both grew up in basically all-white-all-the-time worlds where our cultural education depended on missionaries and the Cosby Show. So even when some of these situations give us a reason to question our sanity, it is a relief to know our kids are better off in this area than we were.

So my kids love Muslims, love Hindus, love chapatti, hate Christopher Columbus and, thanks to the movie Lagaan, are against mean British colonialists. I think it’s a good start.