Reverse-Kindness Syndrome

When we adopted children who didn’t look like us, we expected to deal with friendly questions, curious looks, rude remarks and blatant racism. But one thing unexpectedly threw us off. It was a phenomenon I will call, “Reverse-kindness Syndrome.” Here’s an example- after church one Sunday, shortly after our ten-year-old Mexican nephew came to stay with us, I was approached by his Sunday school teacher. “We just love having Jose in our class!” she gushed. “He is so respectful and nice- I can’t tell you how happy I am to teach him!” What’s the problem? Our also ten-year-old, blond, blue-eyed clone son (he had attended the same class) was standing right beside us, as if invisible. It happened over and over. I’d have two darling little girls in my shopping cart, and inevitably a sweet lady stranger will exclaim, “Oh what a cute little girl!” looking at the one wearing an oxygen tube and ignoring the healthy one. The worst case, I think, was when I came out of a store with four or five assorted kids and a kind lady approached us. “God just told me that He is going to do great and amazing things through that little girl!” she prophesied with tearing eyes. She was smiling fondly at my Indian granddaughter who, by the way, has no arms, while all of the children looked on warily. I know that these people are trying to be kind. It seems petty and cruel to take offence over such encouraging words. All of my children are darn cute, thank you very much, and God has great plans for the “ordinary, run-of-the-mill” kid as well as the one who looks just a little different. In taking care to be inclusive, accepting and encouraging toward children who stand out, we need to make sure we are not excluding the ones who look like their parents. They need a boost too.
This all struck me full-force last week while waiting in line to enroll my daughter in school. I was behind a family with an absolutely beautiful fifth grade girl and her (equally beautiful) second grade sister who is disabled. “Oh, Emily!” the secretary smiled at the younger girl. “Did you have a good summer?” She did not even acknowledge that the older girl was standing right there. She went out of her way to make Emily feel accepted, but you have to wonder what a steady diet of that will do to a sibling.
I remember that every time we took our Jose to an event where volunteers were solicited from the audience, he was always picked. He was bouncy and cute and people were drawn to him. He had an outgoing personality and he enjoyed being singled out. (The other kids, who were seldom picked, had another opinion.) So what’s the best way to handle “reverse-kindness’? Is it a good or bad for the old self-esteem to be singled out and praised? Is it good for the “others” to learn to be gracious or does it cause resentment? Is it justified to accept these compliments knowing that in ten years or so, when the cuteness fades into puberty, these same kids will be the recipients of a different kind of reaction. (Jose said that, as a teenager, he often cringed to hear the sound of door locks clicking down as he walked through the parking lot at the mall.) What do you say? “Stop telling my kid that he’s cute?
Let me know what you think.