February 18, 2018
America
America
You disappoint me.
Are you so broken that your children work to buy guns to kill their enemies, instead of envision their futures? Are you aware that children can’t afford a college education but can afford a gun? And parents can’t afford to offer their time but buy smartphones and assault weapons?
You block doors that should stay open for women. You uphold no freedom. You offer no support. You call them murderers. And once that child becomes a part of this world, you turn your back. You upgrade while children starve and sleep on the street. You parent shame. You buy smartphones and assault weapons.
You build walls to keep people out. You build walls to keep people in. You take sides over bathrooms and you blame and you object. And somebody takes a knee at a football game and you outrage. You turn teachers into swat teams and police officers into criminals. Every “good one“ is the exception, every “bad one” the norm. You buy smartphones and assault weapons.
You regard fathers as babysitters. You tell mothers to cover their breasts and boys to “man up”. You challenge books and sex education and you wonder why this generation is so entitled. For years, you’ve been telling them they don’t have to think for themselves. You’ll do it for them. You buy smartphones and assault weapons. You give re-tests, you give do overs. Everybody gets a second chance. Unless you’re gay, transgender, black, Indian, Latino, Hispanic, Asian, Muslim,female, poor or an immigrant. You want to bring God back into the schools but not books that talk about magic. You want to teach about history but ban books that talk about history. You want to celebrate pssa scores, not holidays. You want to build stadiums and not theatres. You do lock down drills to prepare students for an active shooter and don’t prepare them for life. You prepare them for death more than you prepare them for life. You buy chrome books and metal detectors.
You destroy the land. You pollute the air. You kill the animals. You dismiss science. You equate success with production. You assign worth based on purpose. What is my purpose? If I raise good children, only to have them bullied, tormented, shamed, judged, targeted, or even gunned down? You make me ask myself if each time I say goodbye to my children will be the last. You spend more money on destroying the world than building it. You bury your children more than you lift them up.
There are not enough flowers in his world to cover their graves. And even if there were, the pesticides would kill them.
You wave your flag. You buy smartphones and assault weapons.
May 12, 2019
Mothers
Mothers are heroes
Fathers are incredible but mothers are heroes.
We pack lunches. We read school emails. We send money for field trips and school photos and fundraisers. We buy books at the Book Fair. We collect box tops. We come up with costumes last minute for Dress Like Your Favorite Whoever. We transport children everywhere. And often pick up other people’s children along the way. We insist you pack a hoodie just in case you get cold.
We clean up vomit. We wash sheets. We call doctors. We pick up prescriptions. We wipe butts. We comfort. We feed. We nourish. We council. We advise. We hold hands. We oversee homework. We give baths. We detangle. We listen to musical instruments being played. We read bedtime stories. We run humidifiers. We fold laundry. We do dishes. We sign reading logs. We find all things lost in the universe.
We share our bodies, our beds and most nights, our dinner. We carry your collections in our pockets.
We are the target of everyone’s anger. We are hated. We are mean and unfair. We’ll never understand what you are going through.
Maybe.
We are the invisible ghosts moving through the house, zippering backpacks and packing diaper bags and drying out umbrellas.
We move when we are most tired. We never fall soundly asleep. We read six and a half pages of a book at a time and never fully finish a conversation. Because you call us back to you. You call us back time and again. And we respond. Because the days that feel as if they will never end one day will. And we recognize this.
And that is why mothers are heroes. Because this dance we do is the defining movement of our lives.