Tag: freedom

We the people are (can be) the United States

I am so grateful to live in the United States. It’s taken me an extra day (past July 4) to post because I’ve wanted to write something meaningful about Independence Day as I’ve read and pondered on the experiences and feelings of those in marginalized groups. 

From Alaska

For me, I have always reveled in the amazing diversity of this country: the land itself features stark deserts, craggy mountains, rolling green hills and flat plains with marvels you have to see in person to really appreciate, and I have been able to do that all over the U.S. 

to Pennsylvania

More importantly, the people in this country are wonderfully diverse! I love to meet people from all over the world, and it’s so fun to be able to do that just living here in my own country (though I do love to travel outside of it too). Everyone looks different, speaks different languages, and brings rich cultures with them. My own family happens to be very American in that way: pretty diverse. White European, Filipino, mixed, black. I have a Mexican aunt and mixed cousins. 

I know racism exists, and it makes me sad. It can make me angry. I just don’t understand it. I think some people will never change: they will hold on to their prejudices no matter what. On the other hand, I think education, sharing experiences, and working with others one on one can change many people’s minds and actions (and re-actions). But it takes time and work. 

I am aware that in our country’s history, there have been atrocities. There continue to be horrible events resulting from individuals’ prejudices. Systems in our society do have some outdated practices baked in to them that continue to create gaps in equality. And on both of those counts, we all need to step up and speak out to create change. I think it’s also important to recognize that not all blacks or Asians or whites (etc.) think alike. Blacks have many varied opinions and experiences, as do Asians (etc.). People’s experiences inform their opinions and the conclusions they draw about action that needs to take place, and I’ve observed plenty of diversity in those conclusions. 

I respect the feelings of some blacks, for instance, whose experiences have led them for the time being to feel bitter about this country. That saddens me, but that’s where they are. Others have mixed feelings about the United States but ultimately love it and work for change to make it even better because they love it. That’s where they are. I won’t disparage anyone’s feelings but state simply that I see you and hear you and join with you in making things better that need to be better. I can say that it’s important to respect people’s feelings, and to listen to others’ opinions and experiences regularly. 

However, all of us, based on our individual diverse lives and experiences, will come to very different conclusions on the actions/changes we think need to take place in society, government and other institutions. Just because we may disagree about which things need to change and how doesn’t mean we don’t respect each other. (*Most of us respect each other, that is. I’ll say it again: some people will continue to be racist and have prejudices – and that can include people of any race; racism/prejudice is not restricted to whites, as my Asian husband can attest, since he has faced taunts from blacks in the South, for instance – we simply will not eradicate racism.) If I draw a different conclusion about some changes and how they should be made from some of you or some prominent thinkers, it doesn’t mean I haven’t considered their experiences and opinions; it simply means I have done so and have drawn different conclusions. 

And that is my long-winded take on independence and this great land. I love this country and believe it is a special place. It can be better, but we as citizens must do better because we ARE the United States. We should all a) get and stay informed, listen to each other with respect and carefully weigh all we read and hear from a truly diverse set of outlets and individuals, and b) elect representatives who will truly represent the people, all of them, and work with each other and compromise. We can overcome the division that is happening. This can be a truly UNITED States. 

Parents who don’t hover are the ones in danger, not their kids

I’ve read a couple of articles lately that have reminded me just how tough it is to parent these days. And not in the ways you might think.

First, I read a great column about one woman’s experience, When kids were unbreakable, remembering her “dangerous” childhood and giving her kids some more opportunities for freer play. I think most of us who are in our 40s and up fondly recall hours of free play when we were growing up. I was particularly lucky to live “out in the country” most of the time before I turned 10, after which point I was more in neighborhoods. In both living situations, though, I was away from my house (and my watching mom) for hours at a time, playing in the dirt and in creeks, exploring the woods, walking along dirt roads, riding bikes along suburban streets or cutting through unfenced yards to walk to friends’ houses. I rode my bike with no hands a number of times, and once I ended up needing stitches in my elbow because of it (and I didn’t do it again). I don’t remember a lot of other dangerous things I must have done, just that I had lots of fun, was mostly smart about it, and paid attention to what was going on around me. Dad taught me to shoot a rifle in the backyard a few times (in the country); Mom taught me how to use a knife (and lots of other tools) in the kitchen.

The short story is this: my mom and dad didn’t watch my every move. I wasn’t penned inside my house; I wasn’t watching TV or any other screens very much. I ran and played. I breathed fresh air. I invented all kinds of fun games by myself and with friends and (if forced 🙂 ) my younger siblings. I made something fun out of “nothing,” the materials at hand. My mom felt fine — and was a perfectly great parent — letting me go outside her supervision for those hours.

Today, things are far different. We live in a hyper-vigilant society, in which we have 24-hour news coming at us from TV and the Internet and smartphones. Every instance of bad things happening to kids is reported to us. We fear strangers and are sure if we aren’t watching our kids every moment, that someone will likely snatch them. We live in a time when we are told to know the signs of child abuse. This is a good thing; abuse is not pushed under the rug as much and is better reported. But it’s made us all wary of being the kinds of parents who let our kids have free creative time to explore and imagine and play, without being within 10 yards of them at all moments. We fear that our kids might get kidnapped and/or abused. We fear that we’re not being “engaged” with our kids, providing them lots of fun play options. We fear we’re not good enough. I’m fairly sure that these weren’t concerns for our parents.

Which brings me to the second, and very disturbing but not surprising, article, Woman Calls CPS After Seeing Kid Play Outside. It upsets me to read it because I’ve been in a similar position. When my first two were only 2 years old and a few months old, I was reported (anonymously, though I was able to piece together who it was because I knew her personality and modus operandi) to CPS because someone was concerned they were undernourished and one had a raw, chapped rash between her lips and her nose. Here’s what the circumstances were: my kids were and still are, many years later, petite. The infant had Down syndrome, and many people don’t realize that children with Down’s have their own growth chart. My pediatrician measured her growth against other DS kids. She was fine and perfectly healthy. In fact, we’ve always been blessed that she’s been remarkably healthy, with no heart problems, no digestive problems, almost no ear infections, even. But she looked, to one too-sensitive observer, to be “too small.” My 2-year-old just had a bad (and difficult to break) habit of licking above her lips and that small area was for a fairly short period of time just red and chapped, and I did everything I could think of to make it better. This apparently also made me an object of concern.

A case worker came out to our house and questioned me and looked at the kids, and I was lucky enough that that was the end of it. My kids also were too young to know anything was going on. But it was extremely upsetting for me. I was scared and just sick to my stomach. Raising my kids was hard, and I was always grateful for a break and me-time, but I certainly didn’t want them taken from me!

It was also my introduction to the brave new world of Big Brother: everyone is watching you. And they are given the power over your life to call a number and anonymously report the possibility of you being a Bad Parent. Then you are thrown into what I have discovered is not just a flawed system, but one that’s in some places openly hostile and dangerous to normal, good parents. I don’t have space to tell all the stories, but I could relate a number of them, of good and loving parents who have ended up having to take time-consuming and unnecessary parenting classes, hire attorneys, and be in genuine fear for their parenting and working lives because someone misconstrued something they did in public. It is terrifying.

We have become a nation of helicopter parents, it’s true. And we’ve become a nation of people who are quick to jump to conclusions, who are quick to call “the authorities” on the basis of a tiny possibility of a problem, who don’t know their neighbors from Adam, who have no idea of any context of the lives of the people they’re reporting on. If we knew each other better, knew that our neighbors were good parents who love their kids, whose parenting styles assuredly are different from ours but are NOT BAD, who support their kids and teach them and are making them into responsible adults, we’d be far less likely to go straight to the government with a concern rather than talk to our neighbors first, if we do anything. But we don’t. We are very connected with disembodied people via smartphones and tablets and computer screens, and with talking heads on the news, but not truly interconnected with a community of real, living, breathing people. We’re taking a quick way out to call the authorities and assuage some kind of guilty conscience (for not being better involved, for not knowing Mr. and Mrs. Smith and their two kids next door) or to pat ourselves on the back for “doing the right thing,” as the government and news outlets repeatedly tell us.

Would it be possible at this point to go back a little, to recapture the sense of community we had as neighbors, to support each other in the tough job that is parenting, and to let our kids have the space they so desperately need (as studies keep proving) for free play and imagination and learning how to navigate the world? I’m a little worried that it’s not, that we’ve gone too far. But I desperately hope we haven’t.