A Little Scared of Flooding

 

Last Monday when I picked Beckett up from school, he climbed in his booster seat like he was in slow motion, slung his backpack, buckled his seatbelt, and gazed out the window exhaustedly. We exchanged loving pleasantries, and then, like some top-of-the-food-chain predator, like some crocodile with his eyes and nostrils peeking out of the water, like some mother lioness crouched in the tall grass, I attacked:

What did you learn?

How was recess?

What was your favorite part of the day?

No wonder he wants Nathan to pick him up from school.

Despite these best efforts, I got nothing. In fact, very few of his responses contained more than a handful of syllables. 

I don’t remember. Good. All of it. Can I have some gum?

When I was a classroom teacher I used to be mind blown when parents would describe this phenomenon to me. They would sit in parent conferences and ask what their kids were learning, how things were going, who they played with on the playground. I would conduct these magical days in the classroom with storybooks and math games and songs...this spectacular dog-and-pony-show...only for their kids to tell them their day was “fine.” And, now, here I am with my own kid, eating crow that somehow these parents should have been more engaged. I am truly sorry...

After school we drove to the library to get some books for the week, and dear Ms. Donna, the children’s librarian, was there. As so many Outer Banks kids do, Beckett already loves her, and he went to her for some help finding books. 

He told her he wanted hurricane books, because he learned about flooding and was a little nervous since we live at the beach. She extracted a classic Gail Gibbons’ nonfiction on hurricanes from the shelves. They found some superhero books, too, because that’s what they were playing at recess, he added.

After a while we checked out and went home. He unpacked his bookbag and his Scholastic Book Fair haul spilled out, full of Ninjago books with little toys attached, which were great, he said, in case he needed trinkets to swap with his buddy at snack time.

So, truth be told, I’ll probably keep beating that dead carpool horse, but you better believe we read about Hurricanes that night. 

Superman Can't Fix This

I was washing dishes last week when I heard Beckett ask a question from the kitchen counter... “Is everyone in our family a white person?” 

“Yes, they are,” I said.

“Phew,” he sighed. 

I closed my eyes and thought: “Oh, no. Ask questions before you react.”

“Why did you sigh like that, buddy?”

“Because I don’t want anyone in our family to be treated unfairly.”

We live thirty-six miles from Elizabeth City, NC, a town recently in the headlines for the shooting of Andrew Brown, Jr. Nathan chose to join other clergy in Elizabeth City in a prayerful procession of peace in response to the shooting, so we discussed as a family why he chose to participate. I always struggle with talking to Beckett’s young, categorical mind about racial injustice, and I fumble every single time. We keep having these conversations anyways, because they are just that important to get right.

When Beckett was very little we would say the job of superheroes, like Superman, is to stop villians from causing harm. As he got older, the job of the police was to help people in danger. But, there’s a good guy vs. bad guy dichotomy that falls apart quickly the more aware you become. He’s old enough to know that explanation is shaky at best, because he knows now that there are some childhood heroes that don't use their power to protect and defend everyone. We told him that many people in our country still assume black people are criminals and expendable, but in our house we believe that black lives matter. 

Last week, we read Something Happened In Our Town by Marianne Celano, Marietta Collins, and Ann Hazard. It’s a story about the way two families, one white, one black, experience and discuss a racially-motivated police shooting in their town. The families reflect on racial injustice and the historical roles of their families. The parents discuss with their children the ways to break these patterns of hate and injustice. 

We told Beckett that while it’s true that the world is much a fairer and safer place for our family, we have a responsibility to show courageous compassion to those that don’t get treated with that same humanity. Superman can’t fix this, but we can teach our kids that, in time, they can.

#somethinghappenedinourtown