Diversity Night at the local elementary school

I went to the local elementary school’s “Diversity Night.” We never had “Diversity Night” when I was a kid. We had D’Nealian handwriting and geography then, which they don’t have now.

Why do I always feel tense when I hear the word “diversity”? Or “tolerance”? They’re such nice and important words, so why do I picture pursed lips—like the humorless Russian Social Democratic Labour Party lady operative who met Doctor Zhivago at the door of his once opulent house in Moscow upon his return from the front. She contemptuously informed Zhivago that his house now belonged to the State and was subdivided into apartments to make it more fair and equitable.

“Fair” and “equitable” are runners-up with “diversity” and “tolerance” as school slogans, all being promulgated with an iron fist. When my daughter was in high school she told me that if you want to get someone in trouble, just cry “racist” in a crowded auditorium and the person annoying you will be carted away faster than you can say, well, “tolerant.”

But this was not high school; this was an elementary school I was visiting. So we got the soft sell. The gym was ringed with posters of the old science fair type displaying Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Australia, and whatever other demographic happened to be represented from kindergarten through Grade 4 whose parents were willing and had a few artifacts lying around the house. There were no LGBT posters.

Rather, posters in grammar schools include 24-by-30-inch wall hangings of a grid of 12 different brightly colored kinds of butterflies, accompanied by the text: “Diversity creates dimension in our world.” (This may be less about interest in the order Lepidoptera than in creating an early mindset in these children.)

As the philosopher Aristotle is quoted as saying, “Give me a child until he is 7, and I will show you the man.” No need to do any more at this tender stage than introduce the concept of the legitimacy and moral equivalency of every polymorphous stripe of belief and behavior—just show them the butterfly poster every day and it will sink in. Today the insects, tomorrow the placards saying, “Straight but not narrow,” “Refuse to be labeled,” “Queen and not confused,” “Boycott Hands On Originals.”

On the way out I grabbed a program from a table in the foyer. On the cover was a children’s drawing of a rainbow and the words: “Diversity: A rainbow of friends.” Ah, remember rainbows?