Yo M3 Fans! This morning has been a tipping point for me. Perhaps even for Mo’. I’ll explain why.
Today is Orange Day at school. They are celebrating “Fairness” Month. They get to jump out of their uniforms for the day and wear whatever they want to celebrate “Fairness”. Learning what they are celebrating and the struggle I had with Mo’ & getting her dressed has pissed me off!!
Essentially, Mo’ couldn’t or wouldn’t select an outfit [brand new] from her drawers/closet because wearing said outfit to school would cause the kids to call her “fat” and make fun of her. She spent 30 minutes crying and citing separate instances dating as far back as a year ago, where little shits told her to diet, said she was “fat”, “blubber”, and needed to stop eating. The outfit that she wants to wear are sweat pants that are size 12, she is eight, and that will hide her body because the pants are so big. She literally pulls the waistline way up high, and the pants hang down an inch and half past her feet. OK. Where does a mom grab a learning point in this scenario?
How do I help Mo’ realize how blasting beautiful she is? How do I teach her confidence, leadership, strength, resilience, and hope? How to walk away from the noise and celebrate her strengths? Typically, I do not tolerate such intolerance (poetic huh?). I will usually voice when people breed hate – directly to the source (the parents). Sometimes, I try to communicate to Morgan that people say and do things that don’t make sense. Hate doesn’t make sense. But that for one to change or hide who they are gives the hate more power. To take it’s power she needs to be exactly who she is; she purchased those clothes because she liked the sequins, the colours, the shape, and loved how she looked in them. The old saying of look good, feel good is quickly falling from my hands if these girls and boys at Marvelous Mo’s school don’t realize that words hurt, and that no one is perfect – that she is BEAUTIFUL. If they knew what it meant to call a girl, with eight year old fluff, “fat” would they stop? I don’t know.
I do know that I am mother fucking pissed. I stood in Mo’s room this AM with my shirt off, scars, and things that people “stare” at, and felt compelled to tell her that it takes strength and power to come out against what appears “normal”. That I, especially, can’t hide from what lies under my clothes. My tattoos, my scars, no nipples, gray hair, cellulite, replaced knees, crooked nose, and freckled face tell my story, and only my true friends who love because of those attributes get to hear it and even participate in my story. What a reward for loving me! I try to teach Mo’ to love others, in spite of their words. She hasn’t walked in their shoes to know where the beliefs originate; pray for the stupid, unknowing, and innocent? How do I apply this concept with this instance?
I have to say that at times Mo’ looks at me as if I am speaking Russian. There are avenues of emotions that we can’t relate. There are things that Mo’ says that I have never related to. We are different. We think differently. We emote differently. It wasn’t until about a year ago that I realized that she thinks and acts like SuperHubs. They are identical. That realization was like the secret to the universe. It helped me see where SuperHubs was coming from as I would think of Mo’s struggles. Their striking similarities granted me the time to step back and say “he thinks I’m speaking Russian,” and ratchet it down a notch; same goes with communication struggles I’ve had with Mo’. So this AM, I had SuperHubs come in and help de-escalate the situation. The words he said to her hurt… Me.
SuperHubs imparted that he was called the same thing his whole life. That she is built exactly like he is and that kids and parents would stare and say the same thing to him. He hated his clothes; how they looked on him. I was shocked. He is so confidant. He never speaks of this. But he imparted his pain, and how he could relate and empathize and sympathize with her struggle. He then recapped “what mommy is trying to teach” and that “it doesn’t happen over night”. We don’t hide ourselves because of prejudice and ignorance. Mo’ then said “Mommy’s way is lonely.” Mother-stinkin’-fuckers!
Why does it have to be this way? I know that I teach my kids how to be fair and kind and loving. About a year ago Mo’ and ‘Ox were in a convenience store with me. A young man walked in who had obviously been in a fire at some point in his life. His entire face was missing and scarred. He was a beautiful survivor; however, I still had a rapid heart rate as this was the time mommy had to step to the plate and actively teach my children. I had a 7 and 4 year old. They were going to see this man and they were going to stare. This man sauntered across the store with confidence and a stride that was empowering. I, with a normal voice which could be heard by all, delivered sternly
M3: “Do not stare at the young man like that. He is beautiful. He probably has an interesting story as to why he looks like that… Quit staring ‘Ox. It isn’t nice. His blood is the same color as yours.” That last phrase, ‘Ox turned his head to me and said… “it is?” M3: ”Yes, son. And he feels the same pain that you do when people stare and embarrass you. How would that make you feel?” ‘Ox: “Not good.” M3: “Great. Then let’s get out of here and go to the park.” Done.
If we don’t teach our children that different DOES NOT MEAN LESSER we are going to have this prejudice, hate, and pain entrenching itself in further generations, just as it has since SuperHubs was a child up to Mo’s youth. We should make our child write apology notes when it is disclosed that pain was derived from their words. That we say “sorry” when we hurt. Or how about “Don’t fucking hurt people!”; acknowledge our actions that caused pain and suffering. We need, no must, have a social consciousness for this to evolve. The onus lies on the parents, teachers, and leaders to impart and reinforce these lessons! No man is an island.
Stop pain and suffering. Stop the hate. Stop the shit. Xoxo M3
Marvelous Mo’ and I went to the Philadelphia Art Museum yesterday with her class. Here is an excellent picture of a girl just wanting answers and assessing what has happened in the past when a different man wasn’t tolerated.