scribblechic

I wish I knew your name, or perhaps I wish you knew my smile. I try to greet each fellow parent with a promise of hope acknowledging a partnership among strangers that we are our children’s village, nurturing tiny souls to take over our world. I would smile at your child and forgive imperfect conduct knowing that mistakes are part of learning and growing. It is with this same sense of compassion I would ask you to peer inside my story as a mother.

When I look at my son I see a genuine smile and curious brown eyes. If you were to see my son, you might see someone acting immature for his age. I see the differences that separate my son from his peers. Still, I wouldn’t change my son to fit neatly into someone else’s image – I love him as is. I demonstrate this with words and actions, loving him and informing him, helping him navigate his world as himself.

Today, when I read your comment that children marginalized by other’s act out because there is an imbalance of  love and support available from their parents I felt the ache my son feels when a child criticizes him for his differences. There have been days my son barely made it through the door without releasing his tears and at least one occasion he openly wept, unapologetically for the harm committed against him. More often than not, there were no apologies or consequences for other children’s unkindness. Instead my husband, daughter, and I endeavor to wrap his wounds with words of love and acceptance. I wonder if our love is enough to offset the imbalance.

My son comes from a loving home, a “good” home if you will. So too do many of the children who lash out towards him in ignorance pelting him with words of hate and occasionally physical acts. I wonder if you would have me hide my son behind walls to keep him safe, or cage unkind children for their cruelty. How do we punish bullies to validate the victim’s harm without creating new injuries? More importantly, how do we inform children and parents so that ignorance doesn’t breed hate or indifference?

We are all someone else’s mom, but motherhood is universal. I believe in the essential goodness in all of us, but I stand as witness to the harm of childhood unkindness. Would you stand beside me? Would your child stand beside my son? Or do we point fingers and label one another? I wish we knew one another’s smiles and I hope we can share our stories.

Sincerely,

Someone Else’s Mom

(Note: I wrote this almost a week ago after a stranger’s words triggered an emotional response. I chose not to engage in a thread of defensiveness, keeping my words to myself. I am sharing them now in keeping with my experience of writing for myself and my children. These thoughts are not a judgement of others opinions, but rather a reflection of my experiences.)