I was reading a Mom blog where a woman was gushing about how wonderful her kid was for wanting to donate her shoes to the Mustard Seed to “those people.”
I started to twitch and scowl, to be honest. “Those people” like they are distinct from “these people,” being herself and her awesome child. Not recognizing that humans are humans and we all need a hand sometime. And we are all the same. And we were all once awesome children and babies, like her own.
And I know why this irks me so much. I know that it feels safe not to feel connected to people who are publicly requiring assistance. A woman that I work with at Victoria Cool Aid Society put it really well. She offered that the main difference is that when those of us who live in homes we rent or own break down, or are ugly, unhealthy, angry or vulnerable, we do it in private. Those without homes are forced to do it in public. I found that very insightful.
Someone who is severely depressed, who needs help to obtain food, or a place to sleep might access resources like food banks, or shelters. Or, they might go on sick leave. Might just get anti-depressants.
Here is a link to an article I wrote a while back on this and my own revelation:
http://www.mondaymag.com/articles/entry/homelessness-hits-home
I look into my baby’s face and sometimes I see a stranger, an old man, a young man, a little girl and more. I look at people on the street, those who panhandle, those who jog, those who check themselves out in shop windows to make sure their hair or their asses are looking fine. And they were all babies. One has a job right now. One has not. One is addicted to alcohol and has no job. One is addicted to coke and has a great job. One is a mom, with a sleeping child in her arms. I wonder which path my own bebe will take. I hope that I can support him when he too has some tight turns, as we all do, at some time. I hope they are not too tight and that he can ask for help. Of course I would like to think that my child would never end up on the street, or addicted, poor or experience other barriers. But someone’s babies do.
I am honored that he has come and that I get to be a part of his life. I hope that I can keep him healthy and happy and participate in his acquisition of solid life skills. One of which, I hope, is compassion and understanding. I also hope that I can be proud of my child, but not at others’ expense. I do believe that he is amazing, but also, that we all, each and every one of us have the amazing inside.
And here I am, judging some woman whose path and life I do not know. And that’s not okay. It’s not gentle nor is it kind. But then, I too have a ways to go.
www.mathoughts.com
