ImPerceptibility

Archive for June, 2009

We’re not a religious family and we don’t thank God for our meals. We’re thankful for what we have but we tend to give thanks to a more tangible source. However, most of my family is religious and they pray before meals. When the kids were small we never worried about it. I would either inconspicuously, or if I was feeling hostile noticeably, miss the blessing. Other times I would give the kids a roll to chew on until they were done praising the lord for every little thing and hope they didn’t get brainwashed before it was over. When the kids were little I had a much stronger need to distance myself, and them, from religion. I grew up with that stuff and I didn’t want them drawn into it.

I realized my approach was wrong one day when when my youngest was about three. We were standing around while my brother said grace and when it was finished, just as everyone was about to say amen, she sat up real straight and shouted “I’m mad!” If you say that with a slight southern accent you’ll get why she said that. She thought that was what everyone was saying. It was funny and we all laughed but I knew ignoring religion wasn’t going to be the best approach.

I wasn’t an educational anarchist yet, but I was well on my way. We started with Greek Mythology, threw in some Native American Myths, rounded it out with Celtic and Norse Gods. I think we threw in a bit of Egyptian beliefs. By the time we got to Christian fables a few years later, they had no problem understanding exactly what I wanted them to understand. I felt a lot better about my choices as well.

One of Oldest’s friends was over last week and she told her that her mom said not to talk about religion with her friends because everyone doesn’t believe in the same thing. I’ve told my kids almost the same thing. I think that sucks. I tell my kids that everyone has right to believe in whatever they feel is best for them, unfortunately so many people around here don’t feel the same way. My resentfulness and anger is returning.

My youngest told me that she just pretends she believes what her friends believe because she doesn’t want to fight with them. My oldest gets in arguments because people get frustrated when she matter-of-factly states that she doesn’t believe that. I’m just sitting here alternating between “Fuck ‘em all”, “Why, oh, why can’t we just get along”, and “Let it be. They’re smart kids and they’ll work it out”.

I’m not sure what to do, if anything. In the mean time, I have some books about evolution and world religions on hold at the library. I’ll pick them up Friday.

I’m not sure how my trip through he past landed me there. He was sitting on a dock drinking a beer and there were a bunch of empty cans around him. I thought, “Man, I used to change his diapers” I wondered if I’d embarrass him if I told all the little girlies flirting with him that I’d seen him naked. I wondered if he still had that little birth mark on the back of his thigh, just under his cute little bottom. I remembered how he’d sit in my lap with his head on my chest and suck his thumb until he fell asleep and how he’d get mad and throw the most awesome fits when he didn’t get his way. He was the sweetest little thing. A bad boy. One of my favorites.

Then I clicked through to the next picture. That’s when I realized I wouldn’t be embarrassing anyone with my revelation. His birthmark was still right there where I remembered it and it seems he has upgraded in other areas since the last time I saw him.

I closed the page. I know there is no way to unsee that, but I’m trying. God damn, I’m trying.

Mommy that hobo is pathetic.

That’s what my daughter told me a few nights ago. I was expecting her to be sad. Her tender and loving heart hurt by the thought of someone with so little that they had to stand in front of the mall and beg passing cars for change.

You see, she’s the kid that picks worms up out of the road and puts them back in the garden after it rains because she doesn’t want them to die in the sun. She checks the SPCA page every few months to make sure the pets have been adopted. I buy icee pops in bulk because she makes sure everyone in the neighborhood has an icee pop on hot days. She doesn’t want anyone to feel left out. She’s my baby and I love her ability to look at a situation and decide what needs to be done to make it better.

“Absolutely pathetic!” she continued with a hint of contempt in her voice. Myhusband and I looked at each other questioningly as she continued.

Does he really think I’m going to fall for that?

First: He has a printed sign. It was printed on a computer and it’s in a plastic report cover. Hobos have to scrounge through the restaurant trash and find a crayon then write a handwritten sign on a piece of cardboard.

Second: He has a brand new backpack. It’s nicer than mine.

Third : You never see hobos walking on this road he must drive from somewhere and park in the parking lot. How did he buy a car if he’s a hobo?

Fourth : He has new shoes.

Fifth: He’s not hungry because he’s fat!

I was a little stunned and instead of looking in the other direction I looked at the man she was so harshly judging. I must say, I think she’s right.

I’ve wondered about the men that stand at the light in front of the mall. They are always there. I’ve wondered if they have a schedule to determine who works when.

We put money in the tip jars even if we only got a lemonade. We drop bills in the hat of street musicians. We give food and money to local food banks. I once threw a $20 bill behind an old man that couldn’t pay for his groceries at the checkout and insisted that I had seen it fall out of his pocket. But I’ve never given a dime to the hobos in front of the mall. I doubt I will.

Today my daughter told me she had seen the hobo from the mall texting someone on his cell phone. He had a Starbucks cup sitting beside him. I had to giggle. She shook her head.

Pathetic! I said and she giggled back.

Come on guys. If you want our money you need to do better than that! Get an old hat. Maybe a harmonica or somethin’. Buy your coffee from 7-11. Stop carrying around $100 backpacks. You have a reputation to uphold and you are making my child jaded. I expect better!

I was going to embed a video for my oldests birthday a few posts back but I couldn’t think of a single song that really fit. It took some time and some thinking but I finally got it. I played it for her and told her it reminded me of her. She told me it was a really cool song and she loved it. I guess I did good. Happy Belated Birthday Oldest. You’ve always been a star to me.

Wasn’t Born to Follow by Social Distortion

When I grow up, gonna be a star
Gonna sing my songs and play my guitar, I’m ready
Gonna change the world, gonna turn the page
Gonna say what I feel, let out this rage, get ready
We’re going down, down to the streets below

Gonna sing the songs of the streets again
Gonna knock me off my feet, so get ready
I’ll sing a song for the fallen angels
This one goes to all the unsung heroes

Chorus:
We’re going down, down to the streets below
Cause don’t you know, I wasn’t born to follow

I realize that in your eyes you got ideas
But I got mine, get ready
Here comes the new generation
Hope they feel and fight the same way as we did

Chorus:
We’re going down, down to the streets below
Cause I wasn’t born, I wasn’t born to follow noo

When I grow up, gonna be a star
Gonna sing my songs and play my guitar, I’m ready
Gonna change the world, gonna turn the page
Gonna say what I feel, let out this rage, get ready
We’re going down, down to the streets below
Cause don’t you know, I wasn’t born to follow
We’re going down, down to the streets below
Cause don’t you know, I wasn’t born to follow

We’re going down, down, down, down
We’re going down, down, down
I said goodbye to the masses, I wasn’t born to follow

Last night there was a story on the news. A teenage boy was riding his bike and he was attacked by two other boys. He died at the hospital shortly after. It was sad. I felt bad for everyone involved. Then they had the shock and disbelief interviews with the community. Scared and upset neighbors looked frightened and expressed their sorrow for the family. Then a man my age come on the screen and he said it. It being the catch phrase that makes me see red. The one that cancels out any feelings of sorrow and replaces them with anger.

“I just don’t know what to say. I grew up in the 70’s and things like this didn’t happen.”

I sat straight up on the couch and shouted, “Bullshit!”

MyHusband startled awake from his pre-bed nodding off and looked around wildly trying to figure out what he’d done.

Back in the good old days things like that didn’t happen. It makes me angry every time I hear it. Yes, it did happen. Believe it or not teenage boys have been fighting since the beginning of time and sometimes people get hurt. When I grew up people were killed, and there were gangs, and children were molested, and girls got pregnant, and we dressed like idiots, and we listened to inappropriate music, and we drank and did drugs, and…

I’ve tried for some time to figure out why it makes me so mad. It’s very complicated and it bothers me in many different ways. I’m still trying to figure it out so I decided to make a list

1. “It wasn’t like that when I was kid.” The person that says something like that is in denial. Instead of facing the problem they are hiding behind a wall.
2. It stops any legitimate conversations so people can glorify an idealized lie. People, the past has gone. Lets talk about the here and now. Lets make plans for the future.
3. They incorrectly attribute moral superiority to an entire decade instead of the people that lived in it.“Ohh yeah, I grew up in a little slice of heaven. Back then everyone always did what was right because that’s the way it was.” Whatever.
4. The difference between my childhood and my children’s childhood is in the good ol’ days no one knew the guy down road went to jail because he liked little boys. Knowing and talking about a problem doesn’t make the problem worse. It just make it visible and that makes it seem scarier. In reality it makes the world safer.
5. You aren’t accepting responsibility. “They” are the problem. No, they are children and they are responding to the world that we have built for them. If they are messed up then you need to point your finger at yourself.
6. It makes it seem like my children, your children, and all the wonderful little people I have cared for over the past years are screwed. That they are inheriting a world that’s devoid of goodness.

Number five makes me mad but I think number six may be the largest source of my anger because it is the ultimate bullshit. Anyone that thinks the kids that are growing up today are any less wonderful than past generations haven’t spent much time with the kids. Or if they have, they have been judging them on outdated standards and viewing the world through mass media blinders.

As a whole these kids are amazing. They are so intelligent and have a world view that is so much larger than we could have ever hoped to have had. If we’d stop harming them with all our doomsday prophecising and give them tools so they can succeed instead of assaulting the character of an entire generation because we’re afraid, they’ll do amazing things. Actually, I think they’ll do amazing things either way. You just wait and see.