If you look in your backyard, you’ll probably see big, thick wires that are horizontally connected to poles. I have no idea what they are called; I think they‘re called “electrical wires.” Anyway, some years ago I was delivering food for Meals On Wheels in downtown Detroit with a bunch of my friends and we were assigned to some very sketchy neighborhoods. There is one house in particular that I will never forget. I remember that even though I was still in the car, I could plainly see a pit bull in the back yard, running back and forth…on a tether…that was tied to an electrical wire.
AN ELECTRICAL WIRE.
So I called 911.
911 Lady: What’s your emergency?
Me: There is a dog on a tether running back and forth and he’s tied to an electrical wire.
911 Lady: Is that really an emergency?
Me: Uh, I think it is. HE IS TIED TO AN E-LEC-TRI-CAL WIRE.
911 Lady: Is he hurt?
Me: Not yet.
911 Lady: Well, I don’t know what you want me to do.
Me: But you’re the 911 Lady…
911 Lady: Right. I’m not sure what you’d like me to do.
Me: (Sigh of defeat)…I don’t know what to do either.
I looked at my friends in the car who also didn’t know what to do…with the dog or with me.
We gathered a few more numbers and placed calls to the electric company, the Humane Society, and whoever else we could think of that might somehow be able to remedy the situation. To this day none of us have any idea what happened to that dog, or to the unlucky schmuck who was assigned to confront the owner.
I don’t know why I feel the need to step in when I happen to witness a wrongdoing or injustice. You may be thinking to yourself “That’s a good thing that you’re like that,” but I don’t know if that is always the case. Some battles aren’t mine for fighting. My services aren’t always solicited. My help isn’t always necessary. Yet, I reach for my cape anyway.
If I am in the general vicinity of a conversation where I overhear people talking about someone I care about (and the info they’re sharing isn’t accurate) I have been known to step in and level the field (since my friend isn’t there to do it herself). Unfortunately, by doing this, my unsolicited information (though true) usually brings the conversation to a screeching halt.
Well, of course it does! Who DOES that? Did they send me an e-vite to join their conversation? No. Sure, I go on to apologize for my unsought and un-called for comment—but after my behavior, let’s face it—my apology doesn’t land well.
It’s not my fault! I can’t help myself. It’s how I’m built.
And my kids are growing up around it. They have seen me speak for those who can’t (or won’t) speak for themselves on more than one occasion.
In fact, they are no exception:
Once, when my older daughter “Sweet Pea” was around 18 months old, we were at my friend Busy’s house and Sweet Pea fell backwards from a chair that was very high off the ground. She hit her head HARD on the floor behind her. My husband, Cody, and I rushed Sweet Pea to the hospital and after the nurses checked us in, we waited. And then we waited some more. After the crying subsided, Sweet Pea was actually acting very normal, smiling and hitting on some old man in the waiting room, but whatever—you don’t mess with head injuries. We had only adopted her 7 months earlier and, as parents, we had no idea what we were doing. What if she had internal bleeding? What if she knocked something loose? What if news about this incident made it back to China and officials came to find us…and yell at us, IN CHINESE?
It was stressful.
Some nurse finally took us back to one of those hospital “staging” rooms. It seemed we were making progress, but we ended up doing the same thing there that we did in the waiting room. We waited. This time, unfortunately, there was no old man for Sweet Pea to hit on, she was stuck with just us. We had nothing for her to play with, as this wasn’t a planned excursion, and she was getting antsy. My husband and I were growing increasingly more and more impatient and that feeling of panic we walked in with was quickly turning to disgust.
WE HAD AN 18 MONTH OLD KID WITH A POSSIBLE HEAD INJURY, and we were being ignored.
So we made the decision to leave. Cody gathered our things while I scooped up Sweet Pea and we proceeded to walk out.
I was right behind Cody as he made his way towards the doors, mumbling something under his breath about how bad every single person in the hospital sucked, when all of the sudden I stopped. I turned around (still holding Sweet Pea) and I marched over to the front desk. I was emotionally exhausted, running on fumes of righteous indignation. I was very calm though and I did not raise my voice.
Me: I feel the need to tell you that I could not be more disappointed in this establishment or this staff. We came in with an 18 MONTH OLD BABY who could possibly have a HEAD INJURY. We have been here for a hour and a half and we have seen everyone but a doctor. You should be ashamed of yourselves and I sincerely hope this is not standard operating procedure for your hospital, because if it is, you suck even more that I already think you do.
One of the nurses: We are so sorry, Ma’am. You are next…you really are next.
Me: Too late. We’re done with this place. And don’t call me Ma’am. I hate that.
As Sweet Pea and I walked back over to Cody, I found him to be not at all surprised about my little performance. He’s not new, he knows me.
I guess in some respects I‘ve always been like this, but it seems I’ve become even more vocal as I’ve gotten older. I’m not sure if that means I care more, or if I care less. I guess maybe I care more about others, and less about what others think of me.
The incident with Sweet Pea was easy to defend. I was a mommy protecting the best interest of my child. But, not every situation is like that. On more than one occasion, I have found myself face-to-face with the fine line that runs between “standing up for someone” and “minding my own business.” And sometimes I am not sure which side of the line to stand on.
As a parent, “Standing Up For Yourself and Others” can be a hard lesson to teach because the guidelines are blurry. We want our kids to be empathetic towards others. We want them to have good instincts, act on those instincts, and step up for those who aren’t capable of doing it for themselves but we also want them to know when it’s better to just back off and shut it.
I think I get it right some of the time, but other times I should probably just bite my tongue and walk away… or should I just be who I am and let loose when I feel it’s necessary, saying a silent “Too Bad!” to those who think I’m nuts?
I don’t know. So, if you do, please tell me.
That way I can tell my kids…and take all the credit.
Adoption, At Our House, Society, To be passed down...