This week’s episode is about the things we can protect our children against and the things we cannot. I want to tell you that I cried more in this episode than any other, there was nothing I could do about it, and I think that’s appropriate so I left it in.
Our new rescue dog Rufus was in the room with me because he was not okay with any other scenario. You will hear him tearing around in the background for the first two minutes providing a little bit of needed joy and the good kind of mayhem - instead of the kind we’re dealing with every day in this country. He does go to sleep quickly. I talked about him for a few minutes, because this adoption happened suddenly and feels like a little bit of kismet.
Texas is on my mind, of course. When you have children, it is not hard to imagine how you would feel if something horrific happened while they were at camp, at school, at a playground…anywhere. It is such a painful, terrible thought, but when there’s a huge story in the news and you understand that families everywhere are suffering the most incomprehensible loss imaginable, all you can do is feel it, and try to find ways to help.
Please note, there’s no way to talk about Texas (or North Carolina, or anywhere we are having these weather crises) without talking about child loss. My cousin lost his little boy when he was six years old. I know what it is to go to a funeral with a tiny casket, and I am so sorry if you do, too. I always try to speak about this with all the sensitivity in the world, and I can never talk about it without having my heart break all over again. Letting you know in case you need to skip this episode.
When my kids were little, there was a mailbox at the end of our block. It was right at head-height for a toddler/preschooler and for a few years, every time we walked, ran, or roller-skated by this house I’d call out “Watch your head!” to my kids. It’s a phrase you say as they’re learning to crawl and aren’t paying attention to the height of the coffee table, or as they fling themselves back on a bed, but don’t check to see where the wall is behind them. It’s one of many things you say when your kids are tiny and you’re trying to teach them to pay attention to their surroundings. When you’re trying to teach them to be safe in this world.
At a certain point, you have to face the awful reality that you cannot protect your children from everything. You have to hope that you’ve taught them well, that the world will be kind, and that other people will be kind when you aren’t there. I have this overriding philosophy that there is no such thing as “other people’s children” and that though my children came through me, they don’t belong to me - they belong to themselves and to this world. If children belong to the world, they belong to all of us. It’s our responsibility (and our honor) to watch out for them, to keep them safe. I’m pretty sure that’s called community, and that a healthy society understands this without being told. Thriving democracies take care of their citizens, especially the most vulnerable members.
I talked about a couple of things that have happened with my own kids in the last few weeks. My son ended up in the ER with salmonella in Mexico (he’s okay), and my daughter and I had a very upsetting experience right in our driveway last week, up our path, right up to our front door. Predatory men are emboldened these days, not that they have ever been in short supply. We are also okay. Having said that, it is exhausting and outrageous to be in a world where you have to be vigilant every second you are not in your house. It is enraging and not okay.
It isn’t “socialism” to want all children to eat, or to believe everyone should have healthcare, clean water to drink and clean air to breathe, access to a good education, and help when there are disasters. It isn’t “woke liberalism” or “radical left TDS” to think your tax-paying neighbors who’ve never broken a law and have been trying to “do it the right way” deserve due process and should not be terrorized by masked men in unmarked vans. That’s just called decency.
Flash floods don’t stop to ask who you voted for, and neither do wildfires or hurricanes. We either decide to have systems in place to try to keep each other safe, or we’re on our own. Right now, we’re on our own, and the safety net is only happening if we create it ourselves. It doesn’t have to be this way.
Watch your head x
Share this post