61- White Girl Ignorance

I think I’m guilty of what my boyfriend has coined “white- girl ignorance.”
It all started last week when I asked my student Mattie, who is also my neighbor, if she was going to go Trick-or-Treating in our neighborhood. I asked because I wanted to know what time to expect kids to come to my door.
Mattie surprised me by saying, “I don’t know if we’re going to go Trick-or-Treating or not. My mom says we can’t go if we don’t have costumes.”
I knew that Mattie’s family is very poor and that the likelihood of them being able to afford a costume for Mattie and her siblings was small. “Do you have a costume for yourself?” I asked.
“Not, yet.”
I also knew that Mattie liked cats, so I told her, “I have a pair of cat ears and a tail at home. You could borrow them for a costume, if you want. You could be a cat.”
Mattie’s face lit up and she said, “Yes, please!”
This morning I put the cat ears and tail in a little bag and brought them to school for Mattie. “I hope to see you out Trick-or-Treating.” I told her.
“Thank you!” Mattie beamed.
This afternoon, several hours after school, I was standing in the kitchen of my little apartment and happened to glance out the window. There was Mattie. Her head was down, the cat ears were in her hand, and she was headed in my direction. This is when it first dawned on me that I had done something wrong.
Oh, no. Please don’t be coming to my house!
Mattie is a polite girl. She had never come over to disturb me since discovering that we were neighbors. I prayed that she was just walking to a friend’s house up the street.
No such luck.
I heard a small, but firm knock, knock, knock on my front door.
I greeted Mattie with a warm smile. “Hello, Mattie! Come on in.”
The little Mexican girl stood nervously in my living room. She thrust the cat ears and tail into my hands. “My Mamma said to tell you ‘no thank you.’ We’re going to get our own costumes later today.”
“Oh, wonderful. Are you going to be able to go Trick-or-Treating after all?”
“No.” Mattie replied. “We are going to go to the church for a party and games.”
I felt guilty, “What will you dress up as?”
“A cat.” Mattie grinned.
I smiled, too, and we both laughed a little bit. Mattie fidgeted anxiously by the doorway. “Okay Mattie,” I grabbed my bowl of Halloween candy from the shelf. “Take some of these for yourself and your brother and sister.” I piled two large handfuls of chocolates into her arms.
“Thank you so much, Teacher!”
I watched as Mattie marched dutifully back down the street to her house. Arms full of candy, the girl looked delighted.
I felt bad. Not for Mattie, but for her parents. I had called them poor without realizing it. I had insulted their pride.