Kostyn is rarely forthcoming about what he learned in school. Today was different.

“We learned about caring today,” he brought up unsolicited on our way home. Big smile on his face.

“You did? What did you learn?”

“We learned about a man named Martin Luther King. Do you know him?”

“Yes, I know who he is.”

“Do you know what he did?”

In the span of a few seconds several images passed through my mind. An image of hundreds of thousands of people of all races standing shoulder to shoulder at our nation’s capital this morning.  An image of a black man accepting the role of our country’s Commander in Chief. A snapshot of his daughters looking at the role model shared with so many. And one of the Martin Luther King Jr. memorial, which I saw (on TV) for the first time today.

“I’d really like for you to tell me what he did,” I said.

“Well, he tried to let people all go in restaurants and things, not only white people. Because other people wanted them to stay out and it made them sad.”

“Right. Because that wasn’t very fair, was it?”

He shook his head.  “Like what if you could only go in our bathroom if you had a green shirt on with blue jeans,” he said, describing my outfit.

“Then what would you do?” I said, sizing up his blue sweater. “You’d have to pee outside!”

“But I do have blue jeans,” he said.

“That’s kind of the same thing. Because mostly people are the same, right? We all have hearts and eyes and hands and brains and families. And something like the color of your shirt, or your skin, shouldn’t matter.”  He nodded solemnly.

“So what happened to Martin Luther King?” I asked, unsure of how much detail they discussed about King’s demise.

“They didn’t think that his words were great so they shot him and killed him. That was a really bad thing because he was being a nice boy and he was trying to be nice to let everybody go in.”

“That’s right,” I said. “It was a horrible thing they did to him.” I paused. I could feel the “TEACHABLE MOMENT” banner hanging above our heads.

“So what can you do today that is like Martin Luther King?” I asked.

“I …. I … I don’t want to do anything,” he said.  Huh.

“Why not?”

“Because then what if they don’t like my words and they’ll want to kill me!”

I walked into the kitchen and fetched today’s newspaper, with a photo of Obama being sworn in for his second term.

“Do you know who this is? This is a picture of our president” I began, describing how the people in the United States voted for him to be the leader of our whole country, how he is the first black president we’ve ever had, and how something like that would never have happened back when Martin Luther King was alive – or, possibly, if he hadn’t done what he did. I told him there are still bad people who want things to be unfair, but most of us don’t. Most of us love everyone the same. And he should never be afraid to be kind and fair to everyone.

[Cue inspirational symphonic crescendo]

He touched the photo of Obama’s face. “But his skin is light.”

“There are all shades of skin, some are very dark and some are very light. It doesn’t matter how light or dark he is,” I said. “Do you understand?”

“So did the whole world change from when the people couldn’t go into some houses and restaurants and stuff?” he said, swirling his arms around frantically as if to simulate the world spinning into something else.

“Yes. The world has changed a lot.”

His eyes got wide and his smile got wider and he jumped into my arms and hugged me.

Bigger reaction than what I’d hoped for. I laughed. “Does that make you happy?”

He nodded.

“Why does that make you so happy?”

“Because I love people!”

“I love people, too, Kostyn.  I want you to remember that in your heart always, and treat everyone the same.”

He kissed me, then whispered one last question in my ear:  “Now can I play the Kindle?”

This is what it means to be 5 years old in 2013.