I told my four-year-old daughter I didn’t have to work because it was Martin Luther King Day. “That’s a day when we celebrate the life of a man named Martin Luther King.”
“I know,” she said, almost dismissively.
“You know about Martin Luther King?”
“Yes,” she said. “We read a book about him in school. And we talked about him.”
I was impressed. “What do you know about him?”
“He was a man who was shot and had to die,” she said. “He helped a lot of people.”
I was a little surprised that she even knew what being shot meant (and maybe she doesn’t), but I pressed on. “How did he help people?”
“He taught people how to share. No matter what color they are. That’s why I sometimes have a hard time sharing. Because someone had to shoot him, so now he’s not here anymore to help me anymore.”
She sounded annoyed as she said this. Angry, even. Like someone had taken Martin Luther King away from her, which is essentially true.
Not bad. A basic understanding of Dr. King’s message, wrapped up in the self-centeredness of a four-year-old child.
