Every once in a while, it's good for me to get out and about in the world. Even if it is to the artificial world of Disney. I tend to forget that I live in my own little self-made world. I live in a world where I'm the boss. I have no one to answer to but myself and my own personal values reign supreme.
I forget sometimes that there are people out there who don't feel like I do. There are people who hate. There are people who talk openly about this hate. There are people so unhappy with themselves that they must put down others to distract from their own shortcomings.
The life of a military officer's wife can be quite cushioning. Especially since I live on base, the people I choose to meet on a daily basis are mostly also military. And military folks know to keep politics and belief systems out of casual conversations. We're not exactly Stepford Wives, but most of us have a stronger sense of propriety than your average American. We live in a world where chivalry and respect still hold court.
So when I was walking down the hall of our hotel and saw a kick me sign that read "I'm a fag!" I was taken aback. I was pulled up short. I was appalled. Jesus. Do kids really still do this? Obviously, yes. It is probably as common in the real world as bedtime stories are in mine. But I had forgotten. I really had.
When a relative of mine (through a couple of marriages) mentioned in front of my kids how awful Gay Days at Disney is, I was reminded that my self-made world is really only a world made for four. I can try to spread the confines of my world. I can teach my kids to teach their friends. Better yet, I can teach my kids to teach their own kids about love, respect, honesty, acceptance, and basic human dignity. And hope that I am starting my own little dynasty of nice people, but damn it...that will take a really long time.
I live in a place where a kid was disciplined in school for explaining that his parents are gay. Did you know "gay" was an obscenity? I had no idea.
I remember when I first learned what the word gay meant. I don't know why it sticks out in my memory, but it does. I was about 5 or 6 and had just told someone that they were so gay when my brother stopped me and said, "You don't even know what that word means."
I countered that I did know what it means, it means queer. Well, I guess I was right in my own way, but obviously gay and queer meant the same things to me that weird and stupid and nerd did. So my ten-year-old brother told me what it really meant. I remember thinking that it was so stupid of us to use that word as a put-down. Obviously we were just confused.
My daughter will be five-years-old next month. I have yet to hear her use any kind of slang or put-down, but I know it's coming. She's eternally sweet at heart and doesn't believe in being mean, but she'll hear some kid call another a fag at school, and she'll repeat it at some point, having no idea what she really means.
It's good for me to step out of my world and be reminded of what I DON'T want my own kids to be. Being a mother means I have a lot of power. I am shaping the world of my children. I'm old enough now to know that you can't change the world. Human nature will never change. Never. But you can change the thinking and the lives of those closest to you, and I'm doing the best I can. But the enemy..ignorance...stupidity...hate...it has a strong hold, and it won't give up any time soon.
But, DAMN! There are times when one little slip of paper with the word fag on it makes me want to pick up my spear and go on a war path. This is not the world I want my kids to grow up in. I'll keep them in my world as a long as I can. And while they're here, I'll do my best to give them the tools they will need to stand up and be themselves in the real world. I only hope I am doing enough. Because I'll break the person who breaks their spirits.
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