Age-Appropriate Anti-Racism Resources for 5 Year Olds: What Actually Works
I was wiping sticky granola crumbs off my 5-year-old Mia’s jacket on the park bench last spring when she pointed across the sandbox, voice loud and clear, “Mom, why is that girl’s skin brown? Mine’s peachy.” I froze mid-wipe. A golden retriever bounded past, splashing sand on my sneakers, and the other girl’s mom looked over and gave a small smile. I mumbled something about how people just have different colored skin, and herded Mia off to the slide before I could dig myself into a deeper hole. That night, I sat down at my laptop and typed “anti-racism resources for 5 year old” into the search bar, and that’s where the trouble started.
Most of what came up was either for middle schoolers, full of topics Mia can’t even begin to wrap her head around, or so vague it felt useless. I ordered three books based on top lists, and tested them out over the next two weeks. The first one opened with a discussion of unfair rules that keep some people from doing things they want, and by page three Mia was asking if we could make cookies after. The second one kept repeating “we’re all the same inside!” and when Mia closed it she looked at me confused and said “But my hair is curly that one’s is straight. Why does the book say we’re the same?” That’s when I realized I’d been approaching this wrong.
Five year olds think in concrete, not abstract. They notice differences, that’s not a bad thing – that’s just how kids learn about the world. Pretending differences don’t exist doesn’t make them stop seeing them, it just makes them think they’re not allowed to ask questions, which is the opposite of what we want when talking about anti-racism at this age. I texted my sister, who’s a preschool teacher with 12 years of experience, and she told me to stop overcomplicating it. The job of anti-racism work for a 5 year old isn’t to teach them systemic injustice. It’s to normalize difference, teach them to be kind, and give them space to ask questions without shame. That’s it, for now.
She sent me a short list of actual resources that fit that goal, and most of them have worked really well for us. First up was Hair Love, a short picture book about a Black dad figuring out how to do his daughter’s hair for the first time. It’s not “about” racism at all – it’s just a story about a dad and his kid, with bright, warm pictures of different hairstyles. I picked up a used copy at our library’s book sale, and we read it that night. Mia wanted to look at the pictures of the braids and ponytails three times in a row. She pointed to the little girl’s sparkly hair beads and said “I want sparkly beads too.” That’s all she said. No big speech from me needed. The difference was just there, normal, interesting, not a big deal. That’s exactly what we wanted.
Next was The Name Jar, about a little Korean girl who moves to the US, and kids in her new class can’t pronounce her name Unhei, so she puts other names in a jar for everyone to pick. At the end, she decides she likes her own name best, and everyone learns to say it right. Mia got that immediately, because just last month a kid at playgroup mispronounced her name “Mee-a” instead of “My-a” and she got upset. She said “That’s how I felt when Lila called me the wrong name! Her name is pretty.” The lesson landed without me having to spell it out.
Resources don’t have to be just books, either. I started paying more attention to the shows Mia watches, and realized the kids content she already loves has great low-lift options. She’s obsessed with Bluey, and half the families on the show are diverse – there’s a Black dad who plays with his kids just like mine does, no big special episode about being Black, he just exists. That’s perfect for a 5 year old. We also picked up a set of 12 multicultural skin-tone crayons from the local teacher supply store for $5, and Mia now draws all her friends with whatever color matches them. Last week she drew our Black neighbor Mr. Thompson with a deep brown crayon, then drew his golden retriever yellow, just like it is. No fanfare, just normal.
I used to think I had to have the perfect, complex answer every time Mia asked a question about difference. Now I just keep it short and simple. If she asks why someone’s hair is different, I say “Everyone’s hair grows differently, that’s what makes it special.” If she asks why a kid at the park speaks a different language than us, I say “Some people learn different languages when they’re little, that’s really cool, that means they can talk to more people.” That’s enough. She doesn’t need more than that right now. I tried one of those fancy activity packs for little kids once, and half the activities were too complicated, and Mia just wanted to eat the stickers. I threw it in the recycling. It doesn’t have to be fancy to work.
Last week we were at the playground again, and Mia saw the same little girl she pointed at months ago. She walked over, pulled Hair Love out of her backpack (she brings it everywhere now) and said “I like your braids. Wanna look at my book?” They sat on the bench turning pages together for ten minutes while I watched. I still don’t have all the answers. Next year when she starts kindergarten, I know she’ll ask harder questions, and I’ll have to find new resources. This work isn’t something you check off a list when your kid is 5. But for right now, this is enough. It’s small, it’s simple, and it fits where she is. That’s all any of us can do.
Please indicate: Thinking In Educating » Age-Appropriate Anti-Racism Resources for 5 Year Olds: What Actually Works