Slow Moving Thought Processes

T was Thomas the train for Halloween. M was a spider web. Very nice.

Since then, T has been a little bit obsessed, talking about what he is going to be for next Halloween. Sometimes he'll ask to be a dragon, sometimes a ghost, and once he requested to be Daddy.

Last night on the way home he says to me, "Mommy, I want to be an injun for Halloween."

I gasped in horror. In grad school one of the papers we had to write was about library services for a group in need. I chose to look at one of the Ojibwe tribes in my home state. It was such an interesting experience and the people I met during the interviews were full of such a sense of culture and pride. I couldn't bear to hear my son call them "injuns".

"You mean an Indian," I said firmly. "A Native American."

"No, MOMMY. An INJUN." he said. Then he laughed maniacally, like he sensed that what he was saying was terribly derogatory.

"T," I said. "The "injuns" are the Native American people. They were here first. There are many tribes and each tribe has a unique and special culture. You should make sure you call them the correct name."

He sighed. He's so used to being corrected all of the time...

"Mommy," he said. "I want to be a Naadibe American for Halloween. Like Thomas!"


--Like Thomas.

Thomas the train ENGINE.

No sense me jumping to conclusions or anything.