Chatter in the Cafetorium

There have been some interesting topics of conversation among the 5^th graders in the Forest Acres Cafetorium this week.

Please understand that I take what Emerson reports with a grain of salt knowing that my girl has a penchant for drama. I’ve learned that sometimes, some stories can be exaggerated or embellished for effect when telling the story.

Ella always seems to corroborate Em’s reports, but I can’t always discern if Ella has actually been there for the event in questions or if Em has filed her in on the details while they are waiting in the afterschool carpool pick-up parade.

It’s funny how much the girls’ school reminds me of my own elementary school experience. North Beach Elementary, my home for kindergarten through 6^th grade, was home to Miami Beach’s wealthy elites and then you had the rest of us who were middle-class or below and whose parents worked and most likely lived pay-check to pay-check trying to survive life on and in Miami Beach. 

Em has been filled with information this week. Some of the details and events trickle back to a class Quest trip she took to Washington, DC a few weeks ago, and I mention them because they establish a pattern.

Let me back track here: Emerson currently has bleach-blond and light-blue streaks in her naturally golden brown hair. This is the reward she chose for bringing home a report card in which she earned all A Honor Roll.

For the last few months, Em’s parental units, myself leading the team, have allowed her to put a few chunky highlights of color in her hair. She started with a beautiful turquoise blue; then she went for a midnight purple, followed by a Florida-retirement-community-orange-red (not my favorite) and what she currently has going on now.

On the DC trip, Em roomed with a classmate that she has formed a friendship with just this year. She slept over at our home once and I have met her mother maybe twice. According to Emerson, several comments were made about her hair during the trip. The comments were not critical or hurtful, but they were unnecessary in that we don’t have that kind of close relationship with this family. Per Em, the girl’s mom said that she would not be allowed to have her hair colored like that at Getty’s Middle next year; that Emerson was going to have to dye her hair all one color before she starts 6^th grade; and, lastly, that Em was going to fry her hair with all the bleach products required to dye it the colors it is now.

I’m not certain what the dress code is at Getty’s Middle, but it is something I am capable of researching. If Em isn’t allowed to have “unnatural” color in her hair, then she will not be allowed to have it colored. I hadn’t thought about the damaging effects of the bleach until about a week prior to her DC trip. When I did, I told Em that this was going to be her last color job for the summer so her hair could have time to absorb the shock and we could really take care of it and heal some of the ‘damage’ if possible.

Here’s the funny thing, this little girl is no longer speaking to Emerson after this DC trip. I’ve grilled Em about anything she could have said or done that would be construed as offensive, rude or disrespectful, and she couldn’t think of a thing. She swears she minded her manners, said please and thank you and behaved appropriately. What bothers me in any of this is that Emerson’s feelings are hurt because this little girl is no longer associating with her when, two months ago she spent the night at our home and they started wearing “Best Friend” necklaces.

While I am more than willing to own the possibility that I might be completely wrong, at present I can only assume that Em is getting the cold shoulder because her friend’s mom didn’t approve of Em’s hair or my parenting choice to allow Em to express herself in this manner.

I also don’t care too much about what other people think; what I care about is that Em’s feelings have been hurt.

Some of the other children have asked Emerson about or made comments related to my tattoos: “Don’t you think it’s weird that you mom has all those tattoos?” or “I think it’s weird that your mom has all those tattoos.” Emerson’s response has been “I like my mom’s tattoos.”

It hurts to be judged by parents and children who don’t know me, but I have gotten to the point in my life where my thought is “if people don’t like me or the tattoos on my body, they don’t have to look at them or associate with me.”

As Em and Ella’s mom, I don’t want to be selfish or do anything that makes them uncomfortable. I’ve asked Em and Ella if they would prefer that I cover the tattoos I have when I go to the school. I am more than happy to do this for them. Both of my daughters have said we love you the way you are and we like your tattoos.

It is absurd that either of my daughters should be treated differently or ostracized because of aesthetic choices I have made. I’m sure if I got a breast augmentation or a booty-lift no one would complain about those enhancements. It all goes back to making judgments about people without taking the time to get to know who they are as people on the inside where it counts. Bottom Line: this is the antithesis to treating others with kindness.

And while it might seem that this story is about me, it isn’t really about me at all – it is about the hundreds of other people walking around in our community who might look different that the Smithfield and Middle Creek norm. Being different isn’t bad. It is simply different.

Here is the real kicker and what made the rest of the pettiness I’ve described make perfect sense.

After queries about whether people’s parents were democrats or republicans, whether or not they voted for Obama, one child offered this opinion about illegal immigration according to Em: “we shouldn’t let all these Mexicans in our country because we are paying all their taxes. We should have people in Texas who shoot them when they try to come here.” 

What happened to treating others with kindness? What happened to judge not lest ye be judged? What happened to trying to understand another human being’s plight and trying to help him or her because that is the decent thing to do? We just shoot people because they are different? Marginal others who don’t belong here? Who don’t deserve the opportunity to make better lives for themselves or their families? Can you imagine how boring the world would be if we eradicated everything that was different?

Judgment and hatred start at home and spews into our lunch rooms, work places, gyms and churches. The only cure I know for this is love – to treat one another with the kindness and love with which we would like to be treated. It is as simple as this .... from Romans 12:9-21:

“Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.

Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord.

On the contrary: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.