Mothers

Our parks recently reopened, so yesterday I took the kids to a less-popular one in hopes we’d be there alone, and I got my wish. After playing for about an hour, I noticed a large brown dog running toward us. There were some owners behind him so I didn’t think too much of it. We like dogs and will always pet them with the owner’s permission. I tried to pet this one as it approached, full speed. It became clear pretty quickly this wasn’t a normal dog, but rather a dog full of adrenaline and aggression and unable to control its own strength. He jumped up on John and knocked him to the ground. Then he jumped on top of Quinn, knocking her to the ground, scratching her chest, and biting (lightly-but enough to leave red marks) at her cheek. The owners came up behind it and as politely as I could I said “I think that dog is supposed to be on a leash.” The teenage girl replied that he had escaped from the house and they were trying to catch him. During this time the dog proceeded to knock Owen down and then came and jumped up on my chest, ripped a hole in my shirt, and knocked me down onto the bench behind me. Quinn came and sat by me crying and I decided we just needed to get the heck out of there. We gathered all our stuff up, but the dog would not leave us alone. With my arms full, I told my kids to follow me to the van. As we walked away, the dog knocked Owen down and was on top of him, mouth level with his head. What I knew was that this was a dog that had already ripped a hole in my shirt and bit at Quinn’s cheek and all I could imagine was it taking a much stronger bite out of Owen’s face. His owners were sort of trying to catch him, but given the fact that he was practically attacking my kids, I felt they weren’t really trying as hard as they should. As the dog hovered open-mouthed above Owen, I screamed (and I am NOT a screamer, folks) “Get your dog away from my kids!” Maybe I shouldn’t have yelled, but I was scared, and nothing was stopping the dog. I ran to the dog, yanked Owen out from under him, swung him up into my arms, and we all ran to the van. The dog followed us but luckily did not try to get in as I feared. We were all shaking when we closed the doors and Carly said, “I’ve never heard you scream like that.” I replied that it was just nature, that when I mom sees her babies being threatened that she would react as powerfully as she could to defend them. My kids were freaked out afterwards and Owen has since repeatedly told me he “didn’t like being attacked by the dog.” My thoughts were full of worry last night, knowing it wasn’t too big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, but also thinking that it could’ve been so much worse. And then my mind went to other mothers. Mothers carrying their babies across rivers to try to find a safe home. Mothers who are afraid to let their sons go on jogs for fear of what might happen to them on the street. Mothers crossing the Mediterranean on rafts, fleeing war torn countries to find safety. It is nature that these mothers are trying to protect their babies, and when I say I care about these things, it’s because I’m a mother too—and because I’m a human. I don’t know all the answers or any perfect solutions, but I know we have to care— we can donate to causes that help, vote for people willing to try to find solutions, speak out on issues that matter, and listen to stories of people who are experiencing life differently than ourselves. 

E pluribus unum

I have been a history/government/political science nerd my whole life. While other teens were watching (what were you watching? I don’t even know) I was watching NBC Nightly News with Tom Brokaw and rushing home from Wednesday night youth church activities to catch the new episode of The West Wing (still my all time favorite show, I’ve watched it through more times than I can count). I loved my high school AP History classes, my college history, sociology (my major), and political science (my minor, until I dropped it to graduate on time) classes. I have always loved this country and celebrated it with vigor. I’m the mom with the kids in the red, white, and blue outfits. But now, my heart hurts. There are a lot of things that have built over the last few years, and I won’t get into it because that is not the point of this post, but I feel my patriotism struggling. As the Fourth of July approaches, I just haven’t been feeling it. But throwing in the towel and just becoming bitter certainly didn’t feel right. I care about this country. I care about it becoming what it can be, working toward actually fulfilling its promise of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” for everyone, not just some. So many things are “broken”, but I can still love broken things. I feel I can work to listen when I need to, speak when I need to, and try to be the kind of American I know can make our country begin on the path to healing and justice. So I decided to think of how I could mark the 4th of July in a slightly different way — a way that fits what is needed right now, and a way that should have really been happening all along.

1) Talk about voting! Voting is going to be SO important in 2020 to turn the tone in our country away from aggression and bullying toward something more progressive and meaningful for everyone. White women fought for the vote. And then Black people fought for the unimpeded right to vote. There is so much history there, and the fight for suffrage is a lesson on just how important voting is. On Election Day 2012 I made little ballots for Carly for different choices throughout the day. That was a fun way to show kids how their vote matters. And if you aren’t registered to vote already, it’s the perfect time to do so.

2) Diversify the American experience. There are so many valuable American stories to tell outside of the traditional. I grabbed a few new books telling stories of children who immigrated to the US, one from Egypt and one from China. They celebrate the diversity that adds so much to what America means. The motto of the United States is E pluribus unum (you can show your kids the words on a coin or a dollar bill) and it means “Out of many, one.” America isn’t supposed to look just one way. Out of many skin tones and languages and beliefs, we are meant to be one. Inscribed on the Statue of Liberty is “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” I want my kids to know that that is what America should be.

3) Look outside the box for American history. We talk about Washington & Jefferson and Co all the time around the 4th, and this year I want to broaden the horizon when it comes to American history. There are so many women and people of color in our nation’s history that have overcome, achieved, and contributed to inspiring American history. I’ve decided to talk about a number of women this year. I found a gorgeous book called Herstory, and while it has women in history from around the world, I’m picking out a few Americans: Harriet Tubman, Katherine Johnson (I’ll be watching Hidden Figures with Carly too!), Rosa Parks, Rachel Carson, and Helen Keller. The Instagram page The American Moms also shares #WednesdaysWoman about women in American history, and Here Wee Read has a huge Amazon booklist with more options for Black men and women in U.S. history. Related to this, we are also celebrating Juneteenth for the first time this year. I listened to the First Name Basis podcast about it and highly recommend it to learn more, but Juneteenth really is when our country truly became the “land of the free.” Juneteenth and the Fourth of July can and should go hand in hand.

I was talking my wonderful husband's ear off about this and he said, "Its just like anything in life. If you don't admit to your mistakes and learn from them, you'll never get better." That is just it. Our country has its problems, but we have to face that history (and the present) head-on and teach it to the next generation, so we can all recognize it and see where we need to go. This 4th of July, I may feel a little different. There will still be red, white, and blue outfits, sparklers, BBQ, and fireworks (except not big fireworks, dang Covid), but I know there will be a sense of unfinished business. I hope we all feel that to a degree -- a feeling that there is still work to do.