I have an eight year-old daughter. I want her to grow up feeling comfortable within her own skin and comfortable in the world. This is a child who cannot help being a part of the world. Born of a Filipina mother and a father of mixed origin — my daughter is learning to speak French and Spanish and has more stamps on her passport than most adults. Still, she sometimes heaves a wistful sigh and wishes aloud that her skin were not quite so brown. Her beautiful latté skin, that millions of people toast themselves to emulate, is something of a regret to her.
I show her pictures of kids from around the world, who have skin of every conceivable shade of gold, umber, sienna and blue-black. I tell her that where they live, all the people are dark. In fact, I explain, most people in the world are not white. But to her, even though we have traveled often to Fiji and Hawaii, and we live in a community that is half-populated with Mexicans, she feels excluded from a club vaguely defined by lighter skin.
While I prefer that sentiment to one of superiority or entitlement based on heritage or hue, I am committed to helping her overcome any notion of being chromatically or culturally inferior. So, it is my daughter —and other people’s sons and daughters — and my need for them to connect with the many colors and cultures of the world, that inspired me to create Just Like Me, But Different.
The project introduces children to the wonderful diversity of our planet — one adventure at a time. By bringing a broad spectrum of people and environments into focus, Just Like Me, But Different celebrates differences, draws attention to the things all kids have in common, and teaches understanding, respect and tolerance.
Sincerely,
Gail K. Evenari
