March with Me

What causes are important to you and your family?

My son came home from school in December and said, “Mom, the Women’s March is coming up in January, will you march with me?” I was so consumed with all the holiday obligations going on, it hadn’t crossed my mind what might be coming up in January. “That sounds great, but why are you so interested in doing the March?,” I asked. “Because our teacher gave us a choice — participate in a event for a cause and write a 300-word essay about your experience, *or* don’t participate and write a ten page paper on the topic.” I could see the choice was easy for him. He certainly liked the idea of the shorter written assignment, and I believe he felt a bit ‘left out’ when I marched in the 2017 March without him. He wanted to see what all the buzz was about.

The buzz was noticeably less this year — you’ve potentially heard about factions in the leadership levels, numbers of people thinking why bother, what’s going to change, and there was a part of me that was asking myself the same questions — do I want to do this? There is a million excuses I could use not to walk — I’ve got other things to do, I’m tired, the weather isn’t great, etc. But of course I wanted to participate, even if it wasn’t necessarily convenient — I needed to set an example for my son that there are things worth fighting for, and you have to show up sometimes (even when you’re tired, have other things to get done, etc.) because it’s just that important.

I tried to get my son prepared for smaller numbers at the March, he had heard me tell the store many times how overwhelming (in a good way) it was at the numbers of people who came out in 2017 and I was afraid he’d be disappointed, “there may not be a lot of folks here, I really don’t know what to expect.” He responded soon after we arrived, “Mom, there’s a lot of people here, what were you talking about?” I shrugged. “Guess I was wrong,” I smiled.

The organizers brought up several speakers who spoke on many topics including equality, inclusion and safety for women, kids, LGBTQ, immigrants, the poor and Native Americans. Several people came to the March because they are angry at our country’s leadership, and someone started a chant against the current administration. My son was quick to point out, “This isn’t about Trump. This is about what’s wrong with our country and what we need to do to fix it.” He wanted to spend less time complaining about the problem and hearing ways people could fix it. I was impressed.

We started walking with the crowd, and the number of people participating and cheering on the walkers, seemed to grow as we walked along the route. The atmosphere was very positive and uplifting, people were angry, but being surrounded by so many people that want the same things — working together, being kind to one another, making things safer, more accessible for everyone — reminded me of the good we have in every community.

We finished the March and I asked my son what stood out to him about the day. “The number of people,” he said. We checked the numbers on the way home. I’d underestimated how large the crowd was. I said probably a few thousand were there, my son guessed around 50+ thousand. The news confirmed over 85K came — wow!

I can’t wait to march again next year. I think the teacher’s assignment to have the kids participate in a cause was a brilliant idea. I hope either my son on his own, or by incentive of his teachers asks me the same question next year. “Mom, will you march with me?” Yes. Yes. Yes.

What cause is important to you and your family? What motivates you to take action?

Our Town?

Have you experienced a moment where your child made you rethink or appreciate life a little more after seeing it through their eyes?

My husband and I went to pick my son up from a lesson. He finished his lesson early and had free time prior to our arrival, and had decided to build a town with multi-colored triangular blocks. Some buildings were tall and round. Others were short and flat. One stood out. It was encased in a plastic holder that lifted it off the ground a few inches. I asked my son to explain all the things in his town. He pointed to the tall and round buildings. “This is a movie theater and this is a grocery store.” He moved over to the short and flat buildings. “This is where the poor people live.” And then he moved to the building that was on the plastic base off the ground. “This is where the rich people live.” I asked him what made the rich people live off the ground vs. the poor people. He replied, “The rich people have a force field around them to keep the poor people out.” He paused, probably because my mouth had dropped open in disbelief at his sage observation. “You know, so people can’t get their stuff. They really don’t like people to get their stuff.” I asked, “And where do we live?” He pointed back over to the poor section. “We’re over here. This is the poor to medium section. We live in the medium section house.” “Okay,” I said, “Where do you want to live?” He said, without hesitation, “Over here.” He pointed to the same poor-medium section but one house over. “I would be close to the movie theater and grocery store, and, I’d be close to you.” It made me smile, but also made me think. How would I have answered the same questions when I was his age? Did I have the same awareness of the ‘have’s’ and the ‘have-not’s’ back then? Where did he get this insight from? He seemed wise beyond his years.

The conversation made my husband and I realize that once again our children are noticing things–even things we think they shouldn’t until they are much older. We were reminded that when we’re fortunate enough to have our kids share their insights with us, it’s an opportunity for us to teach them (explain our take on the situation, or how others might think); and get their ideas for what can be done to make things better. I always learn when my children share their ideas–either about them (how they think, what’s important to them, etc.) or from them (sometimes their simple yet smart ideas come are way better than anything I (or I dare say most adults) could come up with). I see things in a new, fresh way.

What have you learned from, or about, your child from their observations?