A Six Year Old Facing Adult Problems
Layout by Elle Bixby
When I was four years old, my babysitter would take me to the park down the street from my house. I would run there as fast as I could, not wanting to waste a minute of play time, so I could be the first in line for the swings. It was my favorite part of every day, and often I would have to be dragged back home, bribed with the fantasy of going back tomorrow for five extra minutes. I always agreed to that bargain. The best aspect of the park was making so many new friends with all of the kids. I would arrive knowing no one, and then by the time I left, I would have five new best friends. That is the beauty of kids and their innocence. It only takes five minutes to create a best friend when you are four years old. Most of the time I just asked what their names were and if I could play with them. It was very rare that someone would say no. We would play house, doctor, school, or tag. It did not matter what we were doing or who we were, all that mattered was that everyone came together through their eagerness and love for the park.
Later that year, I had to have eye surgery and was forced to wear a patch over my left eye. The first day back at the park, I was afraid the other kids would laugh at me or call me names. However, to my relief, the good nature of the park did not change. When I asked to play with the other kids, they always said yes. Some did ask about the patch, but it was always in a kindhearted way. They would often tell me I look cool like a pirate. Even as a four year old with a weird looking patch over my face, my biggest dream would be to go to the park every day, and my biggest problem was wondering if there would be kids to play with.
In addition to adults filling children’s heads with dreams about growing up and all of the new opportunities once they are older, we should all be trying to preserve their innocence and kindness. If kids who barely know each other can play together and act like they are best friends, then the world, in a sense, can do it too, be civil and kind towards the people they do not know. The world needs more genuine kindness.
Unfortunately, even kindergartners start to pick up on the cruelty the world has. As soon as I started school, everything changed. Kindergarten was scary, there were so many rules to follow and I had more to worry about than who would be my playmate. To make everything worse, the kids did not seem as kindhearted. It took more of an effort to play with others, and some did not want to play. That, in itself, is very disappointing. I did not think that things could take a turn for the worse.
One day I woke up thinking it would just be a normal day in the life of a kindergartner. My mom made me waffles in the morning and we drove to school. I had a normal, boring morning meeting and circle time, followed by snack time. At snack time, I ate my normal blueberries and strawberries, and headed towards the slide. However, as I was walking up to a group of boys asking to play with them, one of them asked “why do your eyes look like that” and “why are they so slanted and small.” He completely disregarded my question about playing with them, and for some reason those words stung, because they were mean. Meanness is all I could associate with those phrases at that time in my life, meanness and cruelty. I simply replied with “that is just how I look” and walked away.
After that first “mean” encounter, I started to be acutely aware of other unkind acts in the world. I started to notice glares from strangers when I entered the grocery store with my mom, and how some people would turn heads when I called out to her. They did not have to say anything for me to pick up on what their expressions were saying. I quickly figured out that when I said “mommy” they were expecting to see a Chinese woman holding my hand and responding. However, to their disappointment, it was a white woman who replied with “what is it sweetheart.” To this day, I still do not understand why it was so surprising because aren’t we all taught that families come in all different shapes and sizes? Some adults seem to stray from the wisdom they learned as a child. I was six years old, a child, but facing “adult” problems that tarnished and burdened my innocence and childhood.
I learned, later, that all of the comments and stares I encountered were associated with words like “stereotype,” “racism,” and “inequality.” I learned these crucial vocabulary words in elementary school when I was forced to grow up way too early. At the time, they seemed like bad words similar to “stupid” or “idiot.” I was afraid to talk about them because the tone of the teachers and the conversation was always serious, it was a feeling similar to when I would get in trouble. Little did I know that they would become a part of everyday conversation, and I would have to get used to hearing those words. They are hardly bad words compared to what people call each other; a lot of the kindness of the world has been stripped away.
The world is such a terrifying place that instead of kids watching Sesame Street or Arthur, they grow up watching news about people getting murdered, people in need struggling to survive, and a lack of representation leaving the kids full of doubt for what they could grow up to be. Just to put things into perspective, anti-Asian hate crimes in 16 of America’s largest cities increased 145 percent in 2020 according to official preliminary police data. Anti-Asian hate crimes consist of shunning, slurs, and physical attacks, almost any situation in which a person who identifies as Asian would feel threatened and violated. Unfortunately, a disproportionate number of attacks are directed at women, about 68 percent. Research by reporting forum Stop AAPI Hate revealed nearly 3,800 incidents were reported over the past year. Recently, in the Atlanta anti-Asian shooting, 6 out of the 8 victims were women. I cannot fathom the pain that families of victims must feel or comprehend the fear of victims right before their death. Fortunately, I have only experienced racist comments, which has been more than enough. For the sake of humanity, we must say the names of the victims to keep their memory and stories alive. We must start a new era of love and kindness, and heal the wounds of our country through acts of compassion.
When people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would have a list of more than ten different careers, such as an astronaut, teacher, doctor, veterinarian, or scientist. I used to see the world as limitless. With all the hatred displayed in the media, people pleading for their lives, and few female role models that look like me, I see a world that is limited. I do not just see my own people dying, I see all of humanity suffering from living in a world flawed by hatred.