|Yeah Happy Mother's Day whatever.|
Today is Thank God It's Sunday at my blog.
If you are not familiar with the adventures of P. D. Eastman's Baby Bird as he finds his way home, please spend seven minutes here: YOUTUBE CHILDREN'S BOOK READ ALOUD BECAUSE OF SPOILER ALERT
When Baby Bird hatches into a world with no mother in sight, he leaves the nest on a quest to find her. On his search, he asks each individual he meets, "Are you my mother?" Some (the kitten and various inanimate objects) respond with blank stares or silence. Some (the hen, the dog, the cow) are more vocal in their rejection: I am a this. You are a not-this. I'm not your mother. You are...The Other.
On this Mother's Day, when we celebrate who we are and whence we came, this little book has me asking myself about this one here, and that one over there: is he one of us? or is she one of them?
Are you my Other?
Does your mother dress you funny?
Did you vote for the wrong person?
Or will you never stop letting me know that I did?
Did your ancestors mistreat my ancestors?
Or did my ancestors mistreat your ancestors? And do I think it's high time you got over it?
Are you my Other?
I used to think you needed a jolly good "talking to."
You needed a piece of my mind, is what you needed.
But maybe what you really need is a jolly good "listening to."
So I'll ask you, why? What makes you think the way you do? And how does that work? That happened to you??? Wow. I hadn't realized that. (I might've acted the same way, had that happened to me...) And then after that, what happened? And what did you think about that?
I'll sit on my hands and keep myself from saying, "Yes but, have you considered this, or that?" I'll forget about the verbal tit-for-tat.
It's not about changing "the Other"....it's not about turning her into my mother or anyone else from my tribe ...not into someone I've enlightened to see things my way.
Look, we're living in a society that's flying apart: coworkers, friends, family members refusing to have anything to do with one another anymore. And we're not even talking about how poorly the strangers treat one another. It's so hard to feel at home anywhere.
Remember the SNORT... the..the..the THING that the Baby Bird encountered at the end of his journey? The scariest, most Other-ish being he'd encountered thus far, was the one who finally brought him back to the nest. Home.