A few weeks ago, the Fun Apartment represented at the women’s rights march here in our own backyard. After all, as I tell all three of these guys, several times a week, “Mommy is a person, not a (ladder, tissue, housemaid, miracle worker, etc.)” So, all of my fellas tagged along to support me at what one son referred to as the “Kitty March.”(You guys! Why didn’t anyone tell me about the hats?!?! I could totally have made the hats!!! My knitting superpowers, gone to waste!!)
Anyway, as we strolled along (the boys were somewhat relieved by the pace, as they had earlier expressed concerns such as “Mommy, I don’t know how to march!”) Our newly minted kindergartener used the opportunity to try to read the signs. The third grader asked a lot of questions, and listened intently. They demolished a contraband bag of cheez-its which greatly increased their stamina for the march. Chants rippled through the crowds, but as one suggested that the current resident of the white house should vacate the premises immediately, the elder boy grew pensive.
“Mommy,” he said. “Remember how you said that when we watch football, we only say good things about our team? How we don’t say bad things about the other team because that’s not nice?”
(Our team, by the way, is the GREEN BAY PACKERS. And this was the day before they were defeated in the playoffs by the team the boys referred to as the Atlantis Falcons. Ok, Lost City, you win. This time.)
“But, isn’t this”–he indicated the chanting–“like saying bad things about the other team? Shouldn’t we just say good things about the Packers–I mean, about women?”
People, I was stunned. Stunned, not only because it meant he had actually heard something I said other than “There’s chocolate for breakfast,” but because he heard something I said and he was right. They go low. WE go high.
So, here we go. I’m only saying good things about my team. And it’s easy to do. You see, my team believes in the dignity of all humans. My team believes in accepting everyone. My team believes in loving our neighbors and caring for our community. On my team, we open doors to welcome people in. My team knows that because all lives matter, we need to ensure that black lives matter. My team is about contributing to something larger than yourself. My team raises people up. My team believes that we have a responsibility to our children, to our planet, and to each other. My team believes in equity. My team has a lot of work to do, but that’s ok, because my team believes in raising our children to be even better than ourselves, so they’ll keep doing that work.(My team also believes you should pick up after yourself, but on this one, my immediate family members are not exactly first round draft picks.)
Wow, there are a lot of good things to say about my team. And guess what: if you want to be on my team, we’d love to have you! We don’t have jerseys, but I am going to make us the hats–looks like there will be plenty of chances to wear them.
Does this post mean that the blog will now become a hotbed of political insights? No, I seriously doubt it. We’ll probably be back to wondering why our tiny household requires five kinds of toothpaste among four people later this week.
But today, I just need to say it: Go Team!