Raising a child, especially a child of the same gender, is hard as hell and triggering. My eye still twitches a little when I think about the bullies that terrorized me in middle school. The girls that pulled my hair and had their boy minions tell folks I had B.O. because a hand full of boys dared to have a crush on my ashy first generation, Walmart clothes wearing self. This was the season I learned to pray for my enemies, the folks that tormented me and made me fear school though I loved learning. I was a BLERD before being a black nerd was cool. I watched Star Trek and Wars, read sci-fi and fantasy novels and even binge watched old films rented from my local non-chain movie rental chains. The 2018 early teen version of me would rule on Tumblr. Alas, I was ahead of my time and terrorized for it.
This week, some older kid in one of my daughter’s dance classes told her she wasn’t interesting and that she was too quiet and boring. I failed. The devil tested me and I was one breath away from having a stern talk with this girl’s mama. I told her “next time someone forces their opinions of you down your throat to let them know that they don’t know who you are and that their opinions are unwanted.” She asked: “what if I get in trouble with an adult” I told her to tell them to come see me. Y’all need to collect your hateful mean girl children.
This situation activated my fight or fight. I constantly correct my children when I hear ideas or actions that may compromise their character foundational. I take them to task about bias. I know many parents can’t teach what they don’t know but parenting is already the Hunger Games without alladis extra stuff. I just want my daughter to feel safe and loved and have the space to explore her own identity. But some of these kids and their parents just won’t let us be great.
What did you say?