Thursday July 23, 2020
Kathleen Slover
Learn
When I had my second son, Patrick, I figured, I got this. I had been through the newborn baby stage three years before with my older son, Matthew. But, when we brought Patrick home and he started wailing as newborns do – the kind of scream that reaches into the ears and zaps the brain – I reverted right back to feeling panicked, anxious and frustrated. Matthew, on the other hand, just laughed when Patrick cried. He didn’t laugh because he was being mean; he laughed because it was funny. First of all, Patrick’s cry sometimes sounded like cackling laughter that only a non-parental, three-year-old ear could discern. Second, what was this little thing throwing such a tantrum for? To be fed? To be changed? To be held? Mom can do that! He was right; there was no reason to get so flustered. And so, even with my experience as a mother, I took some advice from my three-year-old and learned to be a better, calmer parent to Patrick.
I always thought of my life as a straight line trajectory, accumulating experiences until, at the end, I’d have something called wisdom. But, no. Now, I think of my life as an oscillating, wobbly circular dance where sometimes I’m in the lead, in the position to teach and, other times, I’m the following partner, in the position to learn. I know, for example, years from now when Matthew is a father and is overwhelmed by a baby’s incessant cry, I’ll say, “Just relax, just feed her, just change her, just pick her up.“ And, so, the dance will continue.
But, it’s just not people that I engage with in the dance. It’s things, events and movements - like the Black Lives Matter movement. I’m ashamed to admit that, a few years ago when “Black Lives Matter” was coined, I agreed when people said “All Lives Matter.” That made sense to me; all lives do matter. But what I came to understand is that Black Lives Matter needs to be proclaimed because in this country, by all measures - anecdotal, statistical, systematic, financial- Black lives don’t seem to matter. If I were to turn around and look back at what I experienced in my life, I would see a life lived in safety and prosperity. I had to learn that the America that I grew up in and the one that I’m raising my boys in is not the same America for people of color. I needed to get knocked off my comfortable straight path and really listen and pay attention to others’ stories - to let others lead, in order to learn this lesson and continue to explore it and teach it my boys.
The master of this dance is God. He pulls and tugs us away from the straight narrow path that we think we’re on. He forces us to dance with unlikely partners, sometimes allowing us to lead, others times directing us to follow. With faith, I don’t need to know where this endless, circular dance will end up. But, if I open my mind and heart, I will learn to be a better mother and a better person. And, that is a good destination.