One unexpectedly warm Sunday afternoon, I strolled through the downtown area, holding hands with my inquisitive four-year-old son, Ethan. His boundless curiosity was in full swing that day, and I was grateful for the time to engage with his endless questions.
- What’s that building? Can we go inside?
- What’s your favorite dinosaur?
- How do traffic lights work?
- Can we get ice cream?
These precious moments with my firstborn have become increasingly rare since his sister joined our family, bringing both joy and a whirlwind of activity. I took the time to appreciate the new freckles dotting his nose and how our conversations had evolved, even as he still wanted to hold hands and sprinkle in spontaneous “I love yous.”
Then, I noticed it: a poster awkwardly attached to an abandoned storefront with black electrical tape in each corner. The poster displayed two stern-looking individuals with pale skin and blonde hair, their icy blue eyes piercing through the afternoon light. Below them, in bold letters, were the words “DEFEND YOUR PEOPLE,” accompanied by information about the white supremacist group behind the message and how to get involved.
In that moment, I realized the phrase “your people” excluded us. I suddenly felt like a stranger in my own community, an adversary in a battle I never chose to fight. The message was a stark reminder that my gentle son, with his kind heart and cherubic face, was also viewed as a threat.
The harshness of the message clashed with the beauty of the day. Without thinking, I yanked the poster down, leaving behind sticky remnants of tape. I crumpled the offensive paper tightly and hurled it into a nearby trash can, where I hoped it would remain hidden among discarded fast-food wrappers and other refuse—exactly where it belonged.
“Why did you do that?!” Ethan exclaimed, confused as to why his typically rule-abiding mother would act so differently.
“The poster was mean,” I replied, trying to steer the conversation back to dinosaurs and sunshine, far away from the unpleasant topic of hate.
“But you’re not supposed to do that!” he protested.
At that moment, I grappled with how to explain the justification for my seemingly inappropriate actions. How could I convey to my son that sometimes, stepping out of line can be the right thing to do? Thankfully, I recalled the words of Civil Rights icon John Lewis, who often spoke of the importance of “good trouble.” He once led a sit-in to demand a vote on gun control, urging others to embrace the idea of getting into trouble for a just cause.
I used this concept to help Ethan navigate the complexities of rules and morality. If a rule is unjust, it’s not just acceptable to break it; it’s the right thing to do. Sometimes, you must create a little trouble for the greater good, just as Lewis has a collection of mugshots alongside significant victories for civil rights.
I hadn’t anticipated discussing civil disobedience on our leisurely walk, fearing it might confuse him. Yet, Ethan seemed to grasp that the poster belonged in the trash, not on display.
“But, Mom, what happens if they put up another poster?” he asked, brows furrowed in concern.
“I’ll take that one down,” I assured him.
“And if they do it again?”
“I’ll take that down too.”
“And again?”
“And again.”
In our journey of understanding, we often encounter moments that challenge our values. If you’re interested in navigating similar topics with your family, consider exploring resources on home insemination, such as this insightful post on couples’ fertility journeys. Additionally, for those wondering about the signs of giftedness in children, this article provides a comprehensive overview. And for anyone seeking information on pregnancy and home insemination, WebMD is an excellent resource on IUI success rates.
In summary, teaching our children about standing up for what is right can be both challenging and rewarding. It requires navigating difficult conversations while instilling values of justice and compassion. By embracing moments of “good trouble,” we can inspire the next generation to advocate for a better world.