hate
November 22, 2011 § 1 Comment
It is a little word that settles between actions, intentions, innuendo, and speech. Hateful words seep into the cracks of self-doubt, insecurity, unhappiness and push forcefully against the strength of self-esteem. My husband and I build invisible walls of self-respect around our children and then watch mindfully for signs of stress, tiny cracks in the mortar.
Yesterday a group of children used hateful words, pelting them against my son’s esteem like chunks of rock against brick leaving scars against his spirit. He knew the words were false, but the harm could not be undone. My husband and I set aside our sadness and anger, meeting our son’s confusion and hurt with honesty and truth. The words were unacceptable, inappropriate, ugly, and hurtful. We named the pain and then nurtured the wound, gathering our son close and listening while he processed the harm in a place of strength. He measured his worth and named the unkindness, marking the moment as an ugliness centered in others; his self-esteem greater than the weight of another’s words.
I will not dwell on my grief, but I will acknowledge the sadness I could not shake. It followed me intimately shadowing my movements and filling up my light with darkness. I let it sit inside my voice when I called the school and spoke to teachers; sharing the burden of responsibility, gathering witnesses to that unseen, holding each of us within my son’s days accountable for this invisible scar to his spirit.
scribblechic 
Hate is insidious, creeping into the cracks and the vent which lets out laundry steam. It sounds as though you and your husband have learned the power of naming, of giving voice and language to those pains which are so difficult to control, giving the hurt a dimension of empowerment. Congratulations on creating a safe space for your son, if only more could follow in this lesson.