COMMENTARY: Kids and the KKK: How do you explain hatred to a child?

c. 1999 Religion News Service (Samuel K. Atchison is an ordained minister and has worked as a policy analyst and social worker to the homeless. He currently is a prison chaplain in Trenton, N.J.) UNDATED _ For several years now, my daughters have been afraid of the Ku Klux Klan. Mind you, it’s not that […]

c. 1999 Religion News Service

(Samuel K. Atchison is an ordained minister and has worked as a policy analyst and social worker to the homeless. He currently is a prison chaplain in Trenton, N.J.)

UNDATED _ For several years now, my daughters have been afraid of the Ku Klux Klan. Mind you, it’s not that they’ve had any personal encounters with the Klan, or even many experiences of racism.


To the contrary, though they attend a predominantly white private school in a wealthy suburban community, their relationships with their classmates have been generally positive. The source of their quarrels is usually the stuff of kids _”You like her better than me!”_ and so on.

Yet, from time to time an incident occurs that reminds them of the oft-troubled history of African American people _ their people.

Such an incident recently took place when the KKK made a highly-publicized appearance in the Bensonhurst section of Brooklyn, N.Y. Such is the reputation of these hooded racists that their images on TV news immediately sent fear into the hearts of my children.

Nor was this the first time they responded in this way. For example, the Klan’s appearance in a televised black history documentary prompts my 9-year-old to quickly exit the room shrieking. At the same time her 7-year-old sister buries her head in my chest, sobbing the entire time.

At bedtime, they pray that Klan members will come to know Jesus as their savior and, in their words,”stop killing everybody.” Question: How do you explain blind hatred to a child? How do you explain that a group claiming to do God’s work sees as its mission _ its ministry _ to keep others in subjection, or kill them in the process? And how do you explain to children that the Klan already knows there are people in our communities that quietly champion their cause?

It is questions like these that plague my wife Fran and I, and, I suspect, thousands of other parents.

Moreover, as a pastor, I wrestle constantly with the implications of these issues for ministry. For throughout the country, our congregations, like our homes, have been affected by what evangelist Billy Graham has called our most pressing social issue. And yet, within our churches we are often afraid to address the problem directly, as if failing to address a divisive issue will bring us closer together.


Even in my own prison congregation, comprised as it is of the wretched and forgotten, we struggle with what Christian faith means within a context of oppression. We are afraid of addressing the racial anger of those outside the faith for fear of alienating some within the faith. In so doing, we are hindering our own ability to provide education and healing to unbelievers whose alienation from society includes alienation by race.

Thus it seems that the Christian church, both inside and outside of prison, is being held captive (if you’ll pardon the pun) by the racial hatred characterized by the Klan. In the meantime, my children and others like them remain afraid of an evil they don’t understand.

How many more children need to be frightened before the church finds some courage?

IR END ATCHISON

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