And Still, We Dance

This morning I laid down on the couch with my 19 day old baby. He was sprawled on top my chest and had firmly clasped my thumb in his tiny palm. We rested there under that blanket and closed our eyes, causing my mind to reflect on this past week of sad, senseless world crises. There’s some scary stuff happening around us. Although we may not live in the same country or even on the same continent, we are cut from the same cloth. We are people. And it astounds me to think there are people hurting people. Humans harming humans. What makes us beautiful is our differences, be that whatever you deem different. But when it comes down to brass tacks, what we ALL are is human and our job should be to look out for one another.

I took a moment to read the news on my phone, and immediately regretted that decision. Bad story followed by sad story followed by a story that led to such debate that hate comments came pouring from people’s mouths like wildfire. And I can’t unsee what I saw and I can’t pretend our world is hunky dory when the demise of some sectors of humanity is in direct sightline of my children. I’m not saying I want to live in a bubble and ignore everything that happens outside the walls of my house. I’m not saying ignorance is what will keep people happy. That would be foolish.

But I am saying that it’s my job as a parent to try to shield what my kids hear and how they are exposed to news such as this. I want them to be strong and brave and to try their best to not let fear paralyze us. Be safe. Be smart. But we must also be resilient and live our lives the way they were intended to be lived.

This interview between a French father and his young son is a beautiful example of exactly what I’m trying to say – we must guide our children, teaching and protecting them without falsifying reality entirely:

I raised my newborn off my chest and, right then and there made it my mission to teach my children that, no matter what state this world is in, I don’t want them to ever be slowed down. Period. I want them to dance in the rain and sing at the top of their lungs. I want them to travel, learn foreign languages, meet new people, accept everyone, visit museums and churches and political buildings without doubt or hesitation. I want their lives to be filled with memories of bike riding, field trips, friendships, and joy. I want them to look for the good in people, focus on the helpers, and be one of the kind ones.

I walked my son into our small kitchen and whispered to him, “Never be afraid. I will keep you safe.” Maybe it’s naive but I strongly believe in maintaining some semblance of innocence in our very small children this day in age. I held my baby’s wrinkly hand and cranked up Stevie Wonder’s rendition of One Little Christmas Tree – a song my dad played during the holidays when I was a kid – and slow danced with my 19 day old baby. Today we will stay in our small bubble of a house, but tomorrow…who knows? We will continue to go where the wind blows us, including theaters and airports and sports venues. I will protect them just as my parents protected me 30 years ago, playing the same music even in times of worry and fear – albeit a different kind of worry and fear, but worry and fear nonetheless. This is part of our job, is it not? If we can’t change the world for them, we can prepare them for the world as best as we are able? I certainly hope so.

My son and I danced until the song ended and closed it with a kiss to his forehead. Thank you, little man, for that beautiful dance in these moments that feel so cold. I’ll keep you safe. You keep me warm.