I wrote this because I need desperately to process and grieve. If you feel differently by all means enjoy your unencumbered heart, but please refrain from dishonoring mine with your words.
Anna's school canceled a lock-down drill today because children were coming to school anxious and scared about the results of last night's election and didn't need to be reminded that someone might come in and shoot them in their classroom.
Let that sink in for a moment.
Last night Anna learned that Hillary Clinton might lose the election. She cried. She asked me if Donald Trump was going to kill her because she heard kids said that he is a 'bad guy' and that's what they do in movies. I comforted her and told her (again) that he's not a 'bad guy' and he wasn't going to kill anyone. I told her it was still early and we wouldn't know until the morning who won. I told her it was going to be OK no matter what happened. I thought about how sad it is that she might grow up scared of the next President regardless of the logic. I thought about how there are many real reasons to fear.
This morning Anna came into our room and asked who won the election. I swallowed hard, looked away and took a deep breath. I struggled to keep my voice steady and stated that Donald Trump did. She saw my tears and she cried, too. She kept saying that she was sorry and she kept asking if it was going to be OK. I kept telling her that she would be OK. I told her nothing would change in our family or our house. I told her it was even more important now that we are kind and love and take care of the people that Donald Trump isn't so nice to. She asked if he would be mean to her and I said of course not and that she would probably never meet him, but that if she did he would probably be really nice to her.
I was going to wake Anna up last night and bring her downstairs to see the first female be elected President of the United States of America. I was going to share that seminal moment with her. A moment that would have been historic and powerful for me, but would have been normal for her. She wasn't going to have to know any better.
But here we are trying to find the words to calm her fears without lying to her and lying to her anyway because we don't know how to tell her that this man who is hateful to so many, who has said things we can't repeat, who wants to turn away the very people Jesus wants us to invite in will be leading this country. I can't look her in the eye and tell her everything is OK when millions of people decided to put him in charge despite all this, or worse, because all this. It is not OK.
I went to bed lying to myself that it was going to be alright and woke up this morning with the realization that I'm not so much scared of what he will do, or try to do, but I am absolutely terrified by what has been done. Hatred, bigotry, sexism, racism and fear has been endorsed by millions upon millions of Americans. Make no mistake, a vote is an endorsement.
And this is where we are raising our daughters.
I was praying in the shower, tears falling down my face. I felt grateful and guilty with the realization that our children will probably remain largely directly unaffected, that in fact some of the unjust systems that will be perpetuated are the systems from which they already benefit. I felt angry and scared that we teach our daughters proper terminology and consent so they can protect themselves from the very thing that the President elect has bragged about doing. I felt helpless that he was elected despite such fervent and vocal opposition and then convicted that in fact for those of us who believe that love truly does trump hate that the work has just now begun.
I believe this - that now is when the real work begins. We fight back. We love bigger, we give more generously, we believe the best in people, we advocate for others. We don't give up. We don't agree with the vitriol coming from the White House so we model grace and compassion and justice in our homes. Our children may not see decency and character or even common courtesy in leadership but they will see it in us. We live with integrity. We live what we believe. We will be the change we want so desperately to see.
Yet...
Her school canceled a lock-down drill today because children were coming to school anxious and scared about the results of last night's election and didn't need to be reminded that someone might come in and shoot them in their classroom. And this morning, in that very classroom where they practice those drills, Anna put her hand over her heart and pledged allegiance to this country.
...
I remain committed to the good work, to sharing the Love and living in hope, but today, today I just need to cry.
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
Today, I grieve
I wrote this because I need desperately to process and grieve. If you feel differently by all means enjoy your unencumbered heart, but please refrain from dishonoring mine with your words.
Anna's school canceled a lock-down drill today because children were coming to school anxious and scared about the results of last night's election and didn't need to be reminded that someone might come in and shoot them in their classroom.
Let that sink in for a moment.
Last night Anna learned that Hillary Clinton might lose the election. She cried. She asked me if Donald Trump was going to kill her because she heard kids said that he is a 'bad guy' and that's what they do in movies. I comforted her and told her (again) that he's not a 'bad guy' and he wasn't going to kill anyone. I told her it was still early and we wouldn't know until the morning who won. I told her it was going to be OK no matter what happened. I thought about how sad it is that she might grow up scared of the next President regardless of the logic. I thought about how there are many real reasons to fear.
This morning Anna came into our room and asked who won the election. I swallowed hard, looked away and took a deep breath. I struggled to keep my voice steady and stated that Donald Trump did. She saw my tears and she cried, too. She kept saying that she was sorry and she kept asking if it was going to be OK. I kept telling her that she would be OK. I told her nothing would change in our family or our house. I told her it was even more important now that we are kind and love and take care of the people that Donald Trump isn't so nice to. She asked if he would be mean to her and I said of course not and that she would probably never meet him, but that if she did he would probably be really nice to her.
I was going to wake Anna up last night and bring her downstairs to see the first female be elected President of the United States of America. I was going to share that seminal moment with her. A moment that would have been historic and powerful for me, but would have been normal for her. She wasn't going to have to know any better.
But here we are trying to find the words to calm her fears without lying to her and lying to her anyway because we don't know how to tell her that this man who is hateful to so many, who has said things we can't repeat, who wants to turn away the very people Jesus wants us to invite in will be leading this country. I can't look her in the eye and tell her everything is OK when millions of people decided to put him in charge despite all this, or worse, because all this. It is not OK.
I went to bed lying to myself that it was going to be alright and woke up this morning with the realization that I'm not so much scared of what he will do, or try to do, but I am absolutely terrified by what has been done. Hatred, bigotry, sexism, racism and fear has been endorsed by millions upon millions of Americans. Make no mistake, a vote is an endorsement.
And this is where we are raising our daughters.
I was praying in the shower, tears falling down my face. I felt grateful and guilty with the realization that our children will probably remain largely directly unaffected, that in fact some of the unjust systems that will be perpetuated are the systems from which they already benefit. I felt angry and scared that we teach our daughters proper terminology and consent so they can protect themselves from the very thing that the President elect has bragged about doing. I felt helpless that he was elected despite such fervent and vocal opposition and then convicted that in fact for those of us who believe that love truly does trump hate that the work has just now begun.
I believe this - that now is when the real work begins. We fight back. We love bigger, we give more generously, we believe the best in people, we advocate for others. We don't give up. We don't agree with the vitriol coming from the White House so we model grace and compassion and justice in our homes. Our children may not see decency and character or even common courtesy in leadership but they will see it in us. We live with integrity. We live what we believe. We will be the change we want so desperately to see.
Yet...
Her school canceled a lock-down drill today because children were coming to school anxious and scared about the results of last night's election and didn't need to be reminded that someone might come in and shoot them in their classroom. And this morning, in that very classroom where they practice those drills, Anna put her hand over her heart and pledged allegiance to this country.
...
I remain committed to the good work, to sharing the Love and living in hope, but today, today I just need to cry.
Anna's school canceled a lock-down drill today because children were coming to school anxious and scared about the results of last night's election and didn't need to be reminded that someone might come in and shoot them in their classroom.
Let that sink in for a moment.
Last night Anna learned that Hillary Clinton might lose the election. She cried. She asked me if Donald Trump was going to kill her because she heard kids said that he is a 'bad guy' and that's what they do in movies. I comforted her and told her (again) that he's not a 'bad guy' and he wasn't going to kill anyone. I told her it was still early and we wouldn't know until the morning who won. I told her it was going to be OK no matter what happened. I thought about how sad it is that she might grow up scared of the next President regardless of the logic. I thought about how there are many real reasons to fear.
This morning Anna came into our room and asked who won the election. I swallowed hard, looked away and took a deep breath. I struggled to keep my voice steady and stated that Donald Trump did. She saw my tears and she cried, too. She kept saying that she was sorry and she kept asking if it was going to be OK. I kept telling her that she would be OK. I told her nothing would change in our family or our house. I told her it was even more important now that we are kind and love and take care of the people that Donald Trump isn't so nice to. She asked if he would be mean to her and I said of course not and that she would probably never meet him, but that if she did he would probably be really nice to her.
I was going to wake Anna up last night and bring her downstairs to see the first female be elected President of the United States of America. I was going to share that seminal moment with her. A moment that would have been historic and powerful for me, but would have been normal for her. She wasn't going to have to know any better.
But here we are trying to find the words to calm her fears without lying to her and lying to her anyway because we don't know how to tell her that this man who is hateful to so many, who has said things we can't repeat, who wants to turn away the very people Jesus wants us to invite in will be leading this country. I can't look her in the eye and tell her everything is OK when millions of people decided to put him in charge despite all this, or worse, because all this. It is not OK.
I went to bed lying to myself that it was going to be alright and woke up this morning with the realization that I'm not so much scared of what he will do, or try to do, but I am absolutely terrified by what has been done. Hatred, bigotry, sexism, racism and fear has been endorsed by millions upon millions of Americans. Make no mistake, a vote is an endorsement.
And this is where we are raising our daughters.
I was praying in the shower, tears falling down my face. I felt grateful and guilty with the realization that our children will probably remain largely directly unaffected, that in fact some of the unjust systems that will be perpetuated are the systems from which they already benefit. I felt angry and scared that we teach our daughters proper terminology and consent so they can protect themselves from the very thing that the President elect has bragged about doing. I felt helpless that he was elected despite such fervent and vocal opposition and then convicted that in fact for those of us who believe that love truly does trump hate that the work has just now begun.
I believe this - that now is when the real work begins. We fight back. We love bigger, we give more generously, we believe the best in people, we advocate for others. We don't give up. We don't agree with the vitriol coming from the White House so we model grace and compassion and justice in our homes. Our children may not see decency and character or even common courtesy in leadership but they will see it in us. We live with integrity. We live what we believe. We will be the change we want so desperately to see.
Yet...
Her school canceled a lock-down drill today because children were coming to school anxious and scared about the results of last night's election and didn't need to be reminded that someone might come in and shoot them in their classroom. And this morning, in that very classroom where they practice those drills, Anna put her hand over her heart and pledged allegiance to this country.
...
I remain committed to the good work, to sharing the Love and living in hope, but today, today I just need to cry.
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
What I want her Kindergarten teacher to know
Next week we meet with Anna's Kindergarten teacher before school starts. These meetings are new this year. They want to provide a time for parents and teachers to meet and talk about the student and what the parents hope for their child in their first year in school.
Anna will be in Mr. Zillig's class and the first thing I want to tell him is that I'm sorry he has to have these meetings. I mean, honestly. He has to sit with 25 odd parents and hear how special their kid is and all the ways in which he should cater to them specifically and I'm pretty sure his job is already hard enough.
I also want to tell him that he IS SO INCREDIBLY LUCKY TO HAVE ANNA IN HIS CLASS BECAUSE SHE IS THE MOST SPECIAL GIRL IN THE WORLD AND HE BETTER TREAT HER RIGHT.
So there's that.
However, I strive to be a semi-rational being (despite post-partum hormones) so I'm going to go for something in between if I can find the words. How do we begin to tell him about our girl? This nuanced, complex, phenomenal human being? How do we put to words the hopes and worries we have for her as she ventures into the rest of her life? How do we remove our neuroses and baggage and focus on her? It's a tall order, and there will always be more I will want to tell him if only I could find the words or had the nerve.
But for now, this is what I want to say:
Our greatest hope for Anna this year has nothing to do with reading and writing. Our biggest wish is simply this: that she will be seen, that she will be known, that she will be safe.
We want her to be seen. Simply to be seen. Not lost in the shuffle or overlooked because she is compliant and well behaved. We want her to be noticed. Please try to see her.
We want her to be known. We want her to be known in the ways that she will reveal herself to you, to us, to the world as she continues to grow and learn. We want her to be validated and encouraged and challenged. We hope she will be known for who she truly is, and not who you think she will be, nor whom we have described her to be, but who she is. Please try to get to know her.
We want her to be safe. I worry for her physical safety and I long for her emotional security. We hope for a safe place to be herself - to feel her big feelings, to share her huge heart, to bear her vulnerable self when she so chooses. We want her to feel safe to learn and question and push her boundaries. Please try to keep her safe.
She's a girl filled with emotions so big and so strong and so powerful. Her compassion, empathy and passion are her guiding light, and they are her achilles heel. She is deeply thoughtful and caring, affectionate and loyal. She is keenly sensitive and empathetic. She is an observer and takes her time, makes up her own mind and commits to something with no less than 100% devotion, persistence and dedication. She is determined to the point of obstinance and frustrated so very easily. So easily. She demands perfection of herself and will either give up in a fit of frustration or work tirelessly till she accomplishes her goal. She is not thick skinned, but will put up with any amount of blood and pain and sweat if, and only if, it's her decision. She's a leader, but not a loud one. She's a team player yet she's fiercely competitive. She cares about everyone and everything and feels the pain of all around her. Chances are she will do well in school. She is social, self-sufficient, craves structure and order and simply LOVES to learn.
She will light up the classroom with that smile of hers and she could set the world on fire with all the love she has inside.
She's a million things all at once. And she's our baby girl.
And so that is our loftiest hope - that you might see her, know her and keep her safe.
Tuesday, August 23, 2016
Anna, in her preschool teachers' words
It was such a gift to have teachers who were invested in their students and who truly delighted in them. They understood Anna and they appreciated her for her. I brought them a copy of Dr Seuss' 'Oh, the Places You Will Go' and asked them to write a few words to her. I'm so very glad I did. You should see her face when I read their words to her (through my tears).
Here's what they had to say:
Anna,
I am so excited for your future and for the person you will become, because already, at 5 years old - you lead with your heart. During times of challenge, you will succeed if you remember to stick to your heart, because it is strong and smart. I have had the best time being your teacher, not because of what I have taught you, but what I have learned from you. The kindness and creativity you share - it is both impressive and delightful. I hope you always go through life with the same unique, imaginative spirit that you had here.
Forever wishing you well,
Miss Caty
Anna,
Thank you so much for all the love and light you bring into the classroom every day. Your kindness and enthusiasm for learning is so infectious - one of my favorite things about being a teacher has been looking out during circle time and seeing your eyes light up as we talk about the world and new ideas.
Anna, your future is as BIG as your heart. There's no doubt in my mind that you will succeed at everything you put your mind to. Because already, at five years old you carry such a strong sense of who you are and I admire you so much because of that. You are a brave leader; I can't wait to witness all the amazing things you'll achieve!
I'll miss your giggles and stylish sunglasses! Keep on smiling. :)
Forever your friend,
Miss CC
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