Monday, December 25, 2017

Solidarity

This is motherhood. Solidarity.

Solidarity

“If you can’t control your children, you should have less of them," he snarled at us on the M57 bus in Manhattan on the Upper East Side. The bus was making a wide turn onto East End Avenue as I stared at him incredulously. Never will I forget how this made me feel; about as small as this period. I cried. 
We were sitting in the back on a very crowded bus. My two active boys, then four and one, along with a good friend’s son, also four, were sitting on their knees. looking out of the window being curious. They were not screaming or thrashing about (that had happened before). They were being children in a crowded city. 
I gathered my courage beyond my tears and told him that it’s hard enough raising children in the city that I didn’t need him criticizing me. Proud to stand up to him, but still shaken by the incident, my tears kept flowing.
Living in Manhattan was never apart of my dream. My husband was in training and it led us to the city. I was determined to make the best of it; living in a two bedroom/one bath walk-up with four people and less than 600 square feet. 
"It’s an adventure,” I told myself. 
After three years in Manhattan and another year in California, his training is complete. Guess what, we are in Brooklyn now. Quieter than Manhattan, it’s still busy and judgmental. 
Now eight and four, the boys are watching my reactions to criticism of parenting in public. 
I’VE HAD ENOUGH. 
No “aha” moment happened except while traveling to Newark along with friends, a lady of a certain age (she definitely qualified for senior citizen benefits), doled out the nasty looks at Penn Station while our children were walking on the right side of a pathway. By the way, she was on the right walking in the opposite direction. I said, to no one in particular, “walk on the right, please.”
With 45 in office and the Me Too movement in full momentum, I ask that parents and care givers everywhere, not just in New York City, join the solidarity movement. Solidarity for supporting other parents safe choices. Solidarity for standing up to snarls, nasty glances, and judgement. If the child is safe, solidarity.
Instead of judging, think back to a time when you felt the way I did as a young mom on the bus, struggling. Ask if that parent wants help by saying, “Is there anything I can do?” or “How can I help you”? If a kid is throwing a tantrum, it’s ok. Maybe they are tired or hungry or sleepy or haven’t seen their dad in four days. 
Give the care giver the benefit of the doubt. It’s hard enough to parent today without the nastiness. Just by smiling at the parent of the tantruming child, you are saying to them, “You will be ok; this is not about you; SOLIDARITY”.