Blood rushed into my neck.
I fought the urge to stomp down to the 9th floor, and say things I knew I’d regret.
My girls, Sarah-Faith’s bike and Esther-Praise’s scooter had just piled into the tiny lift when a man stopped us, waving his large groupie in.
In they piled. My three-year old, eyes wide open, recognized this familiar pattern. We’d kept bumping into this same man in the lift of late.
“Hold my hand?” he’d taunted before, making us cringe.
In the cramped lift, my 3-yr old began to whimper, “I want my scooter.”
“Oooh- Look, I’m gonna take it! I’m touching it now.”
A hysterical meltdown ensued. The lift door opened, and the man, smiling, walked away.
As Esther-Praise bawled, I fumed.
Cliff and I painted the dozen scenarios if we met the man with his inappropriate behavior again, what we’d say, how we’d respond. Clearly, he was of sound mind. He was a parent of teenagers.
“That’s too direct.”
“Maybe we just avoid him. Walk out.”
“But that’s not facing the issue at all.”
Later, while processing the event with my girls, my five-year old asked candidly, “Why didn’t you do anything, Mama, to protect Meimei (lil’ sis)?”
Stumped, I sighed, “What would you have done?”
“I’d say- ‘Please STOP that. You’re hurting my sister.’ “
I sat there, stunned. “That’s better than anything Papa and I have come up with.”
It was simple. But BRAVE.
I’m learning, that as parents, we cannot teach courage any other way than by modeling it to our children. In times like these, we can model reflection and self-compassion by not beating ourselves up, but also COURAGE for the next situation that calls for it.
As we braced ourselves for taking the lift in the days that followed, SF began to sing a song I’d taught them about choosing their words wisely-
From level 21 (our home)to 9, this chorus steadied us all. Made us promise to choose the brave choice.
Have you needed to be brave for your kids, too? Let’s be kind, wise, lovers of peace, but BRAVE for us, too.
Together, we can raise a kind and brave generation.