There are moments as a parent when the hardest conversations come from the simplest questions. Recently, my daughter asked me something that stopped me in my tracks:
“If someone doesn’t like another person because of their race, do you hate them for it?”
I paused. Because the truth is, I don’t.
I don’t agree with them. I don’t support hate. But I also know that hate can’t heal hate. I can share my views, I can teach love and inclusion, but I can’t force someone to change. The only thing I can do is live my truth—and show my children that compassion is the higher road, even when it’s not the easy one.
There have been times in my life when I didn’t understand a culture or a race, not out of malice, but because of what I was taught, what I saw, or what I didn’t know. Our surroundings, our families, and our communities shape us in ways we don’t always see. But as we grow, we have a choice. We can question what we’ve learned. We can unlearn what divides us. We can choose love.
It doesn’t mean it’s simple. Understanding takes work. Empathy takes courage. And sometimes it hurts to look at the ways the world fails to love. But I remind myself—and my daughter—that our hearts are our compass.
We can’t change everyone. But we can show the next generation how to love without judgment, how to hold space for others even when they don’t share our views, and how to lead with kindness in a world that desperately needs it.
That’s what I want to model: not perfection, but presence. Not agreement, but acceptance.
Because love—real love—isn’t blind. It’s brave.