I hate this

I was working out in the gym Monday when the conversation turned to hate. The women didn't realize it and, I'm sure, would argue that that isn't really what happened, but it is.

I go to a Curves, so it's basically me and women in their 60s and 70s (which is way better for my self-esteem than working out next to trim, fit 18-year-olds). Usually, we chat about housecleaning, holidays, Anna Nicole Smith and Britney Spears, kids, grandkids and husbands. Near the end of my session, however, one woman was talking about her recent trip to an area Wal-Mart.

"It just makes me uncomfortable," she said. "I heard people talking in so many different languages that I thought, 'Is this still America?'"

"Oh, I know," another woman chimed in sympathetically. "I just want to tell them, 'Talk English, for God's sake.'"

"And it makes me nervous, too, all those colored people in there," the first woman said. "It's like they all come in their gangs."

I'm not naive. I know hatred runs rampant throughout the world. I spend large parts of my working day reading stories about it: Palestinians and Israelis. Sunni and Shiite Muslims. Democrats and Republicans. Christians and pagans. Fred Phelps' Westboro Baptists and, well, the rest of humanity.

But how do I explain all this to Sam as she gets older? I'm teaching her that people are people. In fact, I specifically chose a day care that has a diverse mix of kids.

I'm just not sure which words to choose when this conversation suddenly springs up long before I ever expect it. Every term I think of -- intolerance, ignorance, fear -- brings connotations that I'm afraid will instill prejudice in her, which is the opposite of what I want to do.

How do you handle these conversations with your kids? Do you and your spouse talk about what you'll teach your kids?