I’ve stepped away from social media quite a bit lately. The trolls and the drama of petty and cruel things has discouraged me. But I’ve always known the limit to my silence. A time would come when it would be impossible for me not to step forward and speak up. My fear of swallowing my words would be bigger than any terror I might feel in my exposure.
“Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one’s definition of your life; define yourself.”
I understand the legitimate fear of terrorist sneaking into our country on the backs of the Syrian refugee children and families in need of our help. But who ever said that doing the right thing–being a leader was easy? I believe more terror will be stopped by our kindness than will ever be stopped by our fear. When I think back at my personal heroes–the people I admire for their courage, intelligence and kindness–I know the kind of behavior I expect from myself.
If you watch a movie like Schindler’s list and walk out of the theater feeling good about yourself, you have to know that being someone’s hero must be earned–that it can never be without personal risk. I’m reading the book I AM MALALA right now and there is a quote from WWII that Malala references and it really stuck with me…
“First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a Socialist. Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a Trade Unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.”
At my core I know what I would want someone to do for my children if this is what they looked like when they tried to go to sleep at night. How do you look these children in the eyes and turn them away? The day your fear becomes bigger than your humanity–there’s a good chance you don’t have anything worth defending anyway.
#realfirstworldproblems #bethechange
There were a range of thoughtful responses to my post. And those that saw things in a different way than I did, were in truth, just asking important questions. The biggest–how do we protect ourselves and our children from becoming victims too? I understand this. I have children. I wear the responsibility of their lives like an unprotected heart outside my chest. Some days it paralyzes me. But I have a truth I can’t deny. The finest and most satisfying moments in my life have been the ones where I’ve found my courage. I have never been as alive as when I’ve dared to be more–tried to be someone better. And as hard as it might be to put into practice, I don’t think I have a right to prevent my children from experiencing that depth of living. I wouldn’t want someone to take that away from me. When my boys were born and placed into my arms–I never once had visions of what they might one day lack in their lives. Instead, in an instant, their whole lives as extraordinary men played out before me. I could imagine who they would become and how that might change the world for the better. That was their gift.
I also mentioned in that FB post that I’m reading the book I AM MALALA. As every word of this young girls life slips into my ears and moves me deeply, I realize that her parents are the unsung heroes in her story. They never stopped their daughter from being the person they knew her to be in that moment she was first laid in their arms. As scary as it might be, they gave her the opportunity to be her best self. As a parent, may I always be that brave. #withMalala
“There is a moment when you have to choose whether to be silent or to stand up.”
Today I choose not to be silent. I do this–not despite the safety of my children–but for their protection. I do not want them living in a world where girls are beaten for going to school, where refugee children sleep in the gutter, where everyone waits for the next shooter or bomb to strike. I do not want my children to live in a world where the voice of terror is louder than the voice of love. I can not bear to have my children believe they are incapable of being the change they wish to see in the world. Living life to it’s fullest is not an absence of adversity. Living is the triumph of the human spirit no matter what obstacles are in the way.
Careful the things you say Children will listen Careful the things you do Children will see and learn Children may not obey, but children will listen Children will look to you for which way to turn To learn what to be Careful before you say “Listen to me” Children will listen
–Into the Woods
“You may only be someone in the world, but to someone else, you may be the world.”
— Unknown Author
Please speak up. The children will listen if we give them a chance.
A friend sent me a really great article on parenting. It was called Raising Your Successful 35-Year-Old. In the age of helicopter parents, it talked about being a lighthouse parent–where the goal isn’t to constantly hover and fix, but to be visible for your children as they navigate their own smooth or choppy waters.
Because while we want to protect our children from harm,
what we too often end up doing is protecting them from learning.
Our job is to keep them from drowning, but not do the sailing for them. Wanting to protect our children is completely different from being able to. I think we’ve begun to believe, that if we are the perfect parents we can keep our children safe, although it might come at the expense of our sanity and our children’s autonomy.
The truth is, we are never completely in control. There are things like luck and chance in the world. Sometimes they are good, sometimes they are not. They are always the wild card. Perhaps the best we can do is be the light that allows our children to see what they are really up against. And if we’re really lucky, they will also have paid attention to what we’ve illuminated about ourselves.
After stumbling across destructive advice, licensed clinical psychologist Dr. Kelly Flanagan writes a letter to his daughter about what really matters in a relationship.
“…Because in the end, Little One, the only thing you should have to do to “keep him interested” is to be you.
Your eternally interested guy,
Daddy”
Quite a few thoughts have been running through my mind since my fellow Wolf Pack sisters, A.N. Remtulla, tweeted about this letter on Father’s Day. I’ve though about my Dad, my husband, my boys and myself. But as a mom, I keep coming back to my own children. I’ve come to realize that not only do I want to raise my boys to think and act this way, but I also want them to be treated this way by the females in their lives. Boys deserve to be loved for all the right reason too. I don’t want someone to marry them for money or reasons lacking in depth. I want my boys to have someone that loves and respects them. Like Dr. Flanagan, that is the one and only thing their future partner and I MUST have in common.
But the pondering doesn’t stop there. It feels bigger than just my own kids.
I’ve come to realize we are living in a generation of terrorism. And I don’t just mean religious and political attacks. We terrorize each other. Our children are born without prejudice and it is a beautiful thing, but it also means that someone is teaching hate and disrespect. There are too many children who find it easier to hurt one another than help each other. Whether we realize it or not, we role model how to be bullies or we turn the other cheek, pretending not to see what is happening in front of us. We put our heads down, afraid to step up and speak up, for fear of what it will cost us, forgetting that our children think everything we do is interesting. They rarely do what we say, but they often do what we do. It is time to flood the world with every day heroes. Enough small gestures can tip the scales…
I recently got to attend an end of the year celebration for my 4th grader. He’s in Room 100 and he’s been with the same teacher and the same group of students for two years, but that is not the amazing part. What brought me to tears was the sense of community and family that this amazing teacher created for these children. She made it very clear from day one that she found each and every one of her students interesting and valuable. I believe her gestures acted like an invitation. Take a journey with me. She was suggesting that if those kids invested in each other, they would find a classroom of interesting and valuable people. And they did. It was a gift.
There’s no bullying in this classroom. Some days there are kids who make mistakes–kids who make poor choices. But there are no bullies. There also doesn’t seem to be a lot of shame or insecurity. Instead there appears to be a lot of joy. They sing, dance, perform, joke, play and laugh. They cheer each other on. I wish I could show you the videos. It would make your heart soar. The potential. No one threatened them to “not be bullies.” Instead, they showed them how to be friends. There is respect, and it hovers around this class like an aura. It is beautiful to witness. So many of the things that seem to be “our issues” don’t seem to be “their issues.”
There IS a difference between a child gaining resilience and a child being forced to survive.
Life and people will never be perfect, even in a great classroom in a really good school. In fact despite how much I adore what has happened in Room 100, I believe that my children still need to learn to roll with the punches–to weather other people’s mistakes. Life IS hard. They have to learn to navigate it in a healthy way.
I was recently reading a blog post by Kristen Lamb, on Handling Criticism, that included an experiment done in a Bio-dome. Under near perfect conditions, closely monitored trees planted within the dome, never grew as tall or strong as the trees that had to weather the storms outside. The trees in the wild were forced to make deep roots in order to hang on. Or grow tall to reach the sun. That is valuable. I do not want to take adversity away from my kids. It’s a tool they need to grow into amazing human beings. It is the doorway to kindness, empathy, success, self-worth and resilience. They need to learn to bend in the wind.
But they do not need to feel terror.
In Room 100, there isn’t perfection. There is not an absence of things gone wrong. Mistakes are made. Tears exist. But in the midst of all of that, something wonderful happened. Over the last two years, the teachers involved with this class showed up. They lead and the kids watched very carefully. Then they became interested in changing their world for the better. Who would have suspected that Room 100 would hold the secret to fighting the war on terror?
Subscribe via Email
