Skip to main content

Village People

Remember when Hillary Clinton caused such an uproar when she wrote that it 'takes it village' to raise a child? I think Jerry Falwell and Rush Limbaugh and Newt Gingrich lambasted Clinton for believing such a communist ideology; I recall the argument that it was the parents right to raise a child as they saw fit.

The other day I saw a bumper sticker (wish I could find it because it would be on my bumper for sure) that read: "Forget the village, what about the parents?"

While I believe to my core that it is the parent's responsibility to raise a child, there are parents that cannot for a variety of reasons. We experienced a little of that this past spring when John was undergoing cancer treatment in Ann Arbor and we both needed to be away from home. Thankfully, my mom was able to come and be here with Matthew and Delaney. And there were many 'village people' out there helping to raise our children in countless ways. Big and small.

I overheard a conversation that my son Matthew was having about a dear friend of mine and a woman that became part of his village during the cancer treatment. He described Sherry as his second mother during that time - I cannot tell you how much it touched my heart and soul to hear. I had no idea before listening in the depth of his emotions and the level to which the village (in this case Sherry) stepped up for my dear, sweet son.

I am confident that if Michael and Delaney were to have similar conversations, I would hear similar tales of parenting from the village. I can almost imagine who those village people/parents might be. And here's the thing - I am okay with it. John and I are, and always will be, the parents - you know the ones that have the primary responsibility of raising our children. Yet there are other adults in the lives of all children that are watching out for them - in this case Sherry and others. We are blessed.

So, I applaud the previously mentioned bumper sticker - but I know that there are times when the village can gratefully step in for the three not-so-little Piggins. After all, parenting is sometimes difficult and it's nice to have a village to lean on. For my own village people, a heartfelt thank you for being there when John and I could not - to my Mom, Sherry White, Chris Kiger, Kris VanLoon, Karen Bush, Pam Edmunds, Lois Miller and the many others that I am unable to name. I love my village. People.

Comments

  1. As someone who has a village (and it's a rather large village), Eric and I do cherish each individual and their contributions to our daugters. Grace knows Polish words and loves Polish food from her cousins, Aunt Joanna, and Babcia (who although not Grace's grandma, comes often enough to visit her granddaugthers that Grace thinks of her as Babcia too). Grace eats Filipino food and tries to order it in restaurants because of my parents who feed her daily. Grace loves the library and all it has to offer because of her Grandma and Grandpa Hudson. Grace knows who Bumblebee is because Uncle Tim lets her watch movies with him. I can keep going and going....

    Our life is full of Grandma and Grandpas (blood-related and not), Aunts and Uncles (blood-related and not), and cousins (blood-related and not) - and while it may have it challenges at times, the positives far outweigh any of them.

    Eric and I do not take this for granted and thank God for all our blessings every day in giving us the family (blood-related and not) we have today.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Vulnerability hangover

I recently blogged about my own #MeToo experiences and then went silent. (At least on the blog). Those posts have been read by over 1000 people, and that's a lot for this tiny little blog about living a life with MS and God and with a sense of humor. Suddenly, I felt like I was living in a world where people that read my blog had x-ray vision and could see my nakedness - but I didn't know who they were. It wasn't a good feeling. And then I heard someone discuss Brene Brown, in particular what she describes as a 'vulnerability hangover'. It's essentially the feeling of regret, like after a night of binge drinking, when you think "What did I do/say?" and then "I think I'll just hide out from the world." If you've never had that experience, kudos to you. It's shame, pure and simple, ugly and raw. So, now I'm on a Brene Brown binge, including all of her TED talks. Including this one on shame:  Brene, listening to shame ...

Work of art or a work in progress!

Last fall, I was asked if I wanted my portrait painted as part of an exhibit entitled "Moving Through the Unimaginable". The requester was a young woman I have long admired, but for the moment I began to doubt my admiration for her because she described the exhibit's subjects as having 'endured adversity or trauma or disease with grace'. I didn't initially see how I fit into that description, but after some discussion with my hubby and reflection, Whitney's (the requester) esteem in my eyes was restored and I agreed. I was looking at myself through my own eyes. Know what I mean?? I don't see myself as exuding any grace as I've 'endured' my experience with M.S. In actuality, I get quite ticked on days like today when the sun is shining and everyone seems to be out enjoying the sunshine and balmy 42 degrees (I live in Michigan and 42 in March is a heat wave!) walking their dog, or biking or just walking. I know my pure-bred mutt Wall...

When an ass is so much more

  Body image. Body positivity.  Or about coming to an appreciation for a previously much maligned back end.  In junior high (that's middle school for all of you non boomers), I was given the nickname "big butt Bowen". It was a nickname that stung because I did indeed have a large ass. I tried to mask it, a difficult endeavor since the current fashion (and remember this is junior high when fitting in was paramount) was wearing hip hugger jeans with midriff tops and my disguise of choice were peasant blouses or dresses. That style choice earned an additional nickname, Mama Cass. For those of you that don't know who Mama Cass was, she was part of the Mamas and Papas and known for her beautiful voice but also for her large body.  All about Mama Cass I was cruelly nicknamed at a time when nicknames can really mess with a girl's psyche. And I spent a lifetime as that girl with the messed up psyche. I'm sure there are more than one of you out there that can relate. B...