When I began teaching in Austria in 2021 as a visiting Religious Studies teacher, I knew my presence would be unique. As a man of color, standing in front of eager pre-primary and primary students, I could already sense the curiosity in their eyes. One day, during class with my pre-primary students, a little boy looked at me, wide-eyed, and asked, "Why are you brown?" His innocence was disarming, as he followed up with, "Are your wife, kids, and mother also brown?"
I smiled at his honest curiosity. In a playful tone, I told him, "I’m brown because I drank a lot of coffee without milk!" The child’s eyes widened even more, utterly fascinated by this unexpected explanation. But I promised to show him more than just jokes. The next day, I brought a film to class, showing the students my hometown, my family, and the vibrant life of children in my village. They watched in awe as pupils in my homeland walked in their school uniforms, playing and learning just like them, yet different in so many ways.
After the film ended, the little boy shyly raised his hand and asked for permission to give me a hug. His request touched me deeply, but I knew the rules were strict—teacher-pupil contact was limited by law. I gently explained, "I would love to, but I'm feeling very hot right now," trying to let him down gently, knowing a child his age might not fully understand the complexities of the rules.
In that moment, I realized the power in being different. It wasn’t just about the color of my skin, but the ability to bridge two worlds, to open young minds to the beauty of diversity. By simply being myself, I could teach these children not only about religion but also about the richness of humanity, showing them that our differences are what make us all special.
I may have been the "different" teacher in the room, but I was also the one who could offer them something new—a chance to see the world through a wider lens, where brown skin or black skin, or any skin color, is not something to be questioned but celebrated. In that moment, I knew I was shaping not just young minds, but young hearts.
Thank you for reading.
Fr. Uc