Saturday, June 11, 2016

Dear privileged white boy of mine




This was a milestone year for my little Brendan, as he entered his first year of preschool last Fall. I realize that some of you folks probably don't buy into the "boy" and "girl" behavior generalizations, but let's just say Brendan's temperament was a whole lot different than my two girls- who were very clingy, shy and fearful when they started preschool. A sociable boy, Brendan is often physical when playing or interacting with peers. He could be impulsive (to say the least), and often has difficulty keeping still. You know, typical preschooler stuff. But I worried about him- we've had a few rather unfortunate run-ins with kids who had temperaments similar my girls' at that age- and I worried that Brendan's outgoing personality and physical nature would be interpreted as aggressive when he started school.

Prior to the first day of preschool, I went out and bought Brendan a wardrobe full of button down shirts, ties, sweater vests, khakis and Sperrys. You know, so he can stand out in the "right" way. A friend once told me that all teachers will appreciate the child who is either the smartest, the most well behaved, or the best dressed kid in class. Well, at least I could make sure my little dude has one of those three things going for him. I sure as heck wasn't sending him to his shi-shi preschool dressed in those tacky caped superhero t-shirts and sweat pants he likes. I couldn't let him be "that" kid on top of  having potential behavioral issues.

So my sweet son started preschool, where he would paint and run and play in the mud, looking like he just finished up 18 holes at the Hartford Golf Club. Was he cute? Sure. Eye-roll worthy? Yup, probably that too.


When we bought our house here in Suburban Paradise 2.5 years ago, we had achieved a dream of ours. We are younger parents who struggled a great deal to achieve financial stability. At last, we were able to settle down in an affluent town, and send our kids to an "excellent" top- rated public school, with a culture that encourages high academic achievement. Our kids are involved in music and competitive sports, and all sorts of other extracurricular opportunities that cost a lot of money. We did it! But now I can say without a doubt (and I realize this is a pretty typical side effect of taking social work courses) that I now truly understand what white privilege looks like. And I see my fair skinned, blue eyed children benefiting from it every day.


This is the part where I don't mention Brock Turner, who needs more publicity just about as much as he needed "20 minutes of action".

But after reading 500 articles about Brock this week, I got a little queasy looking out my own window....how does a little boy, no different on the outside from our own sons, turn into that.

No, I'm not talking about being a sociopath- because that's something entirely different. Sure, Brock was a sociopath too- I believe you have to be to do what he did, regardless of  his status and "the dangers of college binge drinking culture". But there is something far more dangerous, more insidious in this equation than privilege alone, and that's the attitude of entitlement that accompanied this heinous act; the expectation that the justice system should treat an individual like Brock differently than someone who isn't white, rich, educated, and well-connected.

The people in our community aren't all jerks because they belong to country clubs, "summer"on the Cape, own expensive homes and cars, or hire people to clean their houses and manicure their lawns every week. My family is admittedly part of this culture too- and once you have the means to afford such things, it can be a slippery slope indeed. We aren't at fault for wanting our children to attend top rated schools (even if the rating is simply because of demographics) or participate in extracurricular activities. College scholarships can be a dream come true when you have a handful of kids!

We aren't bad people for wanting the best for our kids, but little seeds of evil are planted whenever we USE our privilege to gain an unfair advantage over others.

Joe and I are very fortunate to be able to give our kids much more than we experienced growing up, but we are learning that with this privilege comes tremendous parental responsibility.

We need to remember that our kids are watching us all the time, so we need to model socially responsible behavior. We should think twice about our little benign indiscretions, from the mom who parks her suburban illegally in the school bus lane every day, to the dad who calls the teacher to dispute a grade after his son was caught cheating on a test. Kids overhear conversations you have about hired "help"; certainly they don't need to hear your off-color comments about your cleaning lady's ethnicity or work ethic. When you take your kid out to a restaurants, leave a tip and clean up after yourself if you trashed the place (certain members of the #fourkidsclub leave an extra big tip because the last part is inevitable). Say NO to your kids when they are acting out of line, rude, or obnoxious, especially if it involves the dignity of another person. Our kids aren't born entitled little assholes, but it's our job to make sure they don't end up that way.

One thing that I have definitely learned about parents-white, black, rich, poor, educated, uneducated, and everywhere in between-is that the apple never falls far from the tree. The mean moms I've met have succeeded in producing kids who are jerks and bullies. The genuinely nice friends that my kids have made all come from nice families- and nice families don't all fit the same cookie-cutter mold.

Then I started thinking about the image I tried to construct for my little son. Should the fact that he can be "rough around the edges" at times be mitigated by a pair of seersucker pants and a bow tie? Absolutely not! Even if I AM overcompensating for his (perceived) shortcomings, why should I expect that dressing my son well should somehow change the way people see him, or treat him...or worse, ignore certain behaviors because of the image he projects? Hypocrisy alert! Luckily, my son has preschool teachers who don't buy into this sort of thing. And even more luckily, I had nothing to worry about, and Brendan is (mostly) well-behaved in school.


What I want my little boys- and girls- to understand is that just because you have some material things that other kids don't, you never have the right to treat them like they are less worthy. You must appreciate the struggles others may face because of lack of privilege, even if they are not relevant to your own experience. You will be held to the highest standard of personal responsibility, and are accountable for your actions. If you mess up, you will face the same consequences as anyone else. You are not "special" or better than anyone just because you're you.

I let Brendan wear whatever he wants to school these days, because he's four years old and a pair of ripped sweat pants doesn't make him any more violent or poorly behaved than a boy who's all decked out in a blazer, collared shirt and Vineyard Vines pink whale belt. WE are the ones responsible for making sure our boys (and girls) don't turn into Brock Turner, or UConn mac and cheese kid, for that matter.  We, the parents, have the power and responsibility to shape them into kind, conscientious, socially aware adults, regardless of race, class, or income level (and preference of bow tie vs. crewneck, of course).

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Ten years.

Next week- June 17th to be exact- Joe and I will have been married for 10 years.

TEN. YEARS.

That's big, right? That's like, longer than 99% of Hollywood marriages, and longer than a significant amount of non-Hollywood marriages as well. We should celebrate!

...Except when you are a member of the #fourkidsclub, nobody will agree to watch all of your kids while you take a romantic vacation, so you'll probably just go out to dinner at Bricco or something...

At times like this, people usually say things like "it was meant to be" and throw around words like "soulmate" and "destiny". This is when I involuntarily roll my eyes, because  I don't subscribe to any of that sappy nonsense. I am not a sentimental person. I don't believe in "fate" or "destiny".  Our marriage is a decision and a piece of paper: Joe and I chose this. We chose this path ten years ago, when we were a couple of dumb 22 year old kids (okay, he was 24) who didn't know our heads from our asses. We had no money and no life skills, but we chose this, and dammit, we made it work.

what the fuck am I doing?


And no, our love wasn't meant to be.

No preordained destiny forced us to stick it out through the days when we were dirt poor, having to swallow our pride and move back in with family while we adjusted to life with a newborn baby. Nowhere was it written in the stars that we'd make it through all those sleepless nights with screaming infants while Joe was in graduate school, up until 4am every night doing quantum mechanics. There was no divine force from the heavens that held us together through difficult pregnancies, PPT meetings, moving 5 (!!!) times, job anxiety, and finally starting a new business. That was US; we did that. We made it through because of our commitment to each other and our love for our family. Oh, and definitely our sense of humor came in handy, too! WE chose this life, and we chose to love each other.  And we fought like hell for what we have now. In retrospect it is clear that for all the "worse" that happened in these last ten years, there has been an equal or greater amount of "better". 


Ten years of marriage IS an achievement. Are we too busy with life to really acknowledge or anniversary? Yes, unfortunately. Do we have time to draw funny anniversary comics or make fancy homemade dinners anymore? Nope. Can we even have a conversation without being interrupted ten times or even hear each other over the noise level in our house? No, sadly. Romance these days is falling asleep on the couch with a bag of Trader Joe's chocolate pretzels halfway into the second episode of Bloodline. We've been married for a decade, and have been parents for almost as long. It's not spicy or exciting, but it's stable. It's safe and comfortable, and I'll take it.

Besides, a boring stable life is the best thing you can hope for when you're 32, right?  I have a wonderful husband who is an amazing father, and will do anything to make me happy. He supports all my silly dreams, and gets me Bridgewater Chocolate when I need it. That, my friends, is real love. 

I always tell my kids, don't get married young. Don't be like us. Go live your lives, save your money, travel, be educated, and get to know yourself before you commit to someone else. 

But even though this is what I preach, I can't deny that the "wrong" way worked pretty well for us. We were kids when we got married. KIDS. Neither of us had "real" jobs, or enough education make decent wages anyway. Neither of us had a clue about how to manage money, run a household, or raise babies. Neither of us had a clear picture of who we wanted to be in life, or how on earth we would get there. Getting married too young started a fire under our asses, and when Fiona came along 10 months later, our silly selfish 20-something days were over.  Every decision we made thereafter had to benefit our family. 

And yes, we were lucky, too. We were two college pals that had a whirlwind romance and an incredibly hasty marriage We could have just as easily ended up realizing we were incompatible 2 years later and called it quits. Lucky us; we grew together instead of apart!

But it was more than luck. It was a choice. Marriage is a choice Joe and I wake up and make every day. We choose to be committed to each other, and our kids. "Fate" didn't do all the hard work for us. Joe and I have a strong marriage because we essentially grew up together. And in doing so, we created an incredibly strong bond. Walking through the hard times and figuring things out together is what made us unbreakable. 

Ten years.
Hopefully the next 10 will bring things like STABILITY, something we haven't been too familiar with thus far. But I know there will always be new struggles, more storm clouds in the distance. Right now most of our struggles have to do with parenting, but I know it won't always be that way. Someday when our kids grow up and move out, we'll probably have to figure out our relationship all over again, but that's okay. I'll probably go back to work someday too, which will bring more changes. No problem. I know we can get through anything. 

Because we chose this. We chose to commit to our marriage and family, and it was so so so worth it, as our six year old would say. 

We made it ten years! 





High Five! I love you!