Finding Joy

A couple of days ago, this came across my facebook feed. 

"If you give your kids the impression you believe people who do X are heartless monsters or unthinking drones, they're not going to be as willing to be honest with you if they want to try something on your X list. You won't seem trustworthy or safe to them. That's true whether X is food or religion or technology or clothing or language or politics or any other "lifestyle" issue."

Those words come from Meredith Novak, an unschooling Mom I know online, and they really spoke to me. 
The idea behind it being that prejudice about anything 'other' -- people, hobbies, music, tv shows, video games, religion, whether or not one is vegetarian, their choice of dress -- is toxic to the kind of relationship I want with my children.  Prejudice gets in the way of joy and trust; it completely derails curiosity and growth. It leads to disdain and unkindness, to hurt feelings and to smaller worlds.

It's a topic that's been big for me lately, the whole idea of disdain and the unkindness it spreads.  I see it in so many interactions between parents and children. As those children grow, the disdain and prejudice show in their freindships, in how they turn down opportunities to try new things, in how their world stays very small.  It shows up as frustration, as fear to try new things, as sneering when someone else suggests a new interest they'd like to share.  It kills enthusiasm and robs children of any sense of safety and acceptance for who they are. 

That's not to say it's always been that clear for me. I carried my own prejudices into my parenting years. I truly believed that people who watched certain tv shows were small-minded and mean, and likely not very smart.  I couldn't reconcile how people I knew to be intelligent and thoughtful could enjoy shows like Family Guy; I didn't think it was acceptable for children to watch The Simpsons.  My oldest son wasn't allowed to watch the Simpsons.  I'm very glad he found his way to them on his own, and was able to make up in some measure for those years I wrestled with my prejudices. 

It was uncomfortable at first to consider that maybe all my prejudices were mistaken. But they were. When we embraced unschooling and relaxed the limits on things like tv (that really was the biggie for us, for some reason) we found that our boys loved to watch all the shows we found really offensive.  How could it be that these thoughtful, kind, generous, smart boys of ours really wanted to watch those shows? What did that say about them as people? What did it say about us as parents? Where had we failed them? (okay, that last is mostly tongue in cheek) I worried that they were becoming people I wouldn't be able to like. 

That was insanity. Really. They were the same sweet, kind, smart boys they'd always been.  And the shows were funny sometimes, the writing is clever and contemporary and really calls viewers to think about some pretty big issues.  They're also filled with historical and cultural references. I started out just being nearby, explaining why a particular joke was funny, talking about the relevance of the underlying attitudes about sex or politics or drug use or race relations. 

Pretty soon, I was looking around my life, and I realized I'd been missing opportunities to try new things, to grow as a person. I saw that I had sometimes been unkind or disdainful to people who believed things I didn't believe to be true.  I'd always thought of myself as pretty open-minded, so this was a revelation to me.

In the years since, I've watched people reject all sorts of passions embraced by their children or their partners. I've seen people refuse to enjoy a loved one's interest, refuse to serve meat to a husband or child. I've seen adults dismiss and laugh in ways that I found hurtful, even when I wasn't the target of their disdain. I've seen teenagers sneer at the very genuine passions of others, dismissing as uncool or beneath them some really cool new experiences.  I've watched as those prejudices made the world smaller for friends, partners, children, and for the people who limit themselves to only what is already on the approved list for what's good and right and desirable.

Where it comes around to joy is this -- when you make the world a small place, with a short list of what's acceptable, what's good and right and the way people and things are 'supposed to be,' you reject joy and passion and love and wonder.  Prejudice and disdain are poisons; they may present as the rules to live by, ways to keep our children and ourselves safe and on the right path. But really, all they do is make our world smaller. 
 
Joy can't thrive in a small box; wonder dies where it's not safe to be curious; children wither and grow warped where it's not safe to try new things, to become someone different on the outside (or on the inside).

When your child, or your partner, or you, want to try something you've been told is bad or will make you a bad person, or is stupid or silly or somehow beneath you, re-think that prejudice.  Choose joy. It often shows up in the most unexpected places.  And you'll never know where it is if you refuse to consider new opportunities.

On Valentine's Day

Valentines Day is here.  It's not a big holiday around here, at least not in a gifts and roses and dinner date kind of way.  No big elaborate celebrations for us, because that's just not who we are.  It does make me pause to think about what love means to me, and what it is about Gary that makes me love him as I do.  

Twenty-six years together. Wow, that's a long time! More than half my lifetime.  And what it is about him that I love so much?  It's the little things, the big things, the way he still loves me, even when I'm pretty sure I'm not all that easy to like sometimes. The way he takes care of me, and lets me take care of him.That he still smiles whenever he catches my eye, and every single time he smiles at me, I melt. 

It's in the easy way we spend time together; the old jokes and stories we both know and share. Days spent together at the track; nights in the garage talking as he worked on a car.  Country drives and quiet dinners together, talking about anything that comes up, remembering together our story, and adding new chapters as the years go by.

It's in those beautiful children we're raising together.  Oh my goodness, they are amazing and in so many ways they are just like Gary -- helpful, kind, generous, thoughtful, quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) going about being who they are. 

Will, who gets me in ways that no one else does, who had my heart before Gary came along.  He's like Gary in ways that can't be chalked up to genetics, but come from growing with us as we found our way.  

Andy, who pretty regularly unloads the dishwasher for me, and jumps right up to help with anything I ask for. Who is quick to offer to drive to pick up Dan so I can rest at home, who carries groceries in and trash out.  Strong as the bear we nickname him for, and oh so sweet and gentle.  His patience and tenderness while removing splinters from little girls' hands on park days has me in complete awe. Just like Gary, who handles all splinters at our house, because his patience in those moments is endless.

Dan, who last night when I broke a mug, came to help me pick up the pieces.  When I thought I had all the pieces, he reached past me to pick up a piece I'd missed, then he scooped and pinched up the tiny pieces I'd also missed. He did this very matter of fact and quietly, just like Gary would.  His hands so much like Gary's (Dan's just hit a phase where every little thing about him reflects Gary), helping out because Gary wasn't home and I needed help.
 
From the love we share, which is so much more than I ever expected to have in my life, which just flows outward to make our days lovely and our life sweet. This love makes our home a soft place to land for us all. 

Being married to Gary is so much more wonderful than I knew was possible. Growing up I'd not seen any happy marriages, at least not close up enough to imagine anyone could be this happy, that it could feel and look this easy.  When I met Gary's parents (who will celebrate 60 yrs in August, and who have been my parents for 18+ years now) I began to get a glimpse of what marriage could be like.  They give us something to aspire to, and along the way their support and love for us, their acceptance and genuine love for me (even tho I will never be what they expected) astound me.

Not only is Gary is smart, funny, and cute, he is absolutely the kindest, sweetest, most compassionate person I've ever known.  To which he says "you need to meet more people, Babe."  Did I mention he's modest, too?  

Really, life and love can be this good? It's not just about marrying the right person, it's about becoming the right people, together.  And it's still such a surprise to me, even 26 yrs later.