Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Prism Changes: A historic week when the title of this blog hits home.


"With your election, you validated my son. And I wanted to scream, why cant we just get validated for being human beings and being who we are. We need to make sure that it's OK to be who we are."  - Lupe Valdez, Sheriff Dallas,Texas

When I decided to start writing a blog again, I did so because I missed writing about things that simply resonated with me. Coming up with a name for this blog was a challenge because I didn't want pigeon-hole what I wrote about, thus Media through a Mom's Eyes was born. Last week the truth of that title hit home. In a week that gave us historic Supreme Court decisions in both marriage equality and the Voting Rights Act and a twitter explosion under the hash tag #StandWithWendy. I see the positive change happening independent of media spin and tasteless, rude and often anonymous retorts (I'm looking at you Governor Perry). I realized as I watched these events unfold that none had a direct effect on my life, yet it was crystal clear that they would impact the landscape of the world my daughter grows up in. In the 8 years since I became a parent my perspective has changed. I am still the same person with the same core beliefs I've had since my own childhood but my considerations have changed. I look at history now through a prism of how it will intersect with my daughter's ability to carve out a life of happiness for herself.

However, it wasn't until I sat down and watched HBO's new documentary The Out List, that the title of this blog truly came to life. For the first time I became cognizant of the fact that I was watching and absorbing something as a parent, not simply an individual in the world. I watched these brave men and women speak openly, harshly and honestly about their journeys in navigating fear anger and every emotion in between caused by a world that wasn't always accepting and often cruel.

Then it happened. I cried.

Knowing me that's not inherently surprising. Yet I was moved because I realized my tears were those of a parent, not a friend or a peer who has knows what it is to be discriminated against. I was just a parent seeing children who were treated as 'other' in some capacity for no reason other than living their truth and having the character to do so in corridors that were resistant to that level of honesty. As a parent my heart breaks a little every time I see my daughter mistreated or rejected by a peer. Instinct drives you to want to shelter and protect them from the evils that are in the world. You want to shield them from harmful words because experience has taught you that in fact words CAN hurt you right along side those sticks and stones. I cried knowing that there are those who would seek to deliberately hurt my child because she was different.

I cried for another reason as well.

I cried for the triumphant spirit of these individuals, most of whom spoke about 'traditional' families where they found love and support. That in the face of real hatred they were surrounded by acceptance in unexpected places. What struck me so profoundly in the storytelling of Janet Mock, Dustin Lance Black, Lupe Valdez and others was the fact that their connection and love within their families and extended communities is the well from which they drew strength. That validation gave them voice for those who might not have one or feel as though their voice is unheard.

As a parent, that is what I want most for my child. To help her grow into a confidant individual who gives voice to the things that she is passionate about and to not fear rejection of her ideas. I no longer look at the world and nod my head knowingly as a Hispanic female who has raised her voice in the desire to be heard. I look at the conversations happening in my community, in our country and on our airwaves as a parent wondering how it will impact my child and how it will influence her voice. That prism is how I filter my media now. It may not be a view through rose colored glasses, but it is a view of the world through a mom's eyes.


No comments:

Post a Comment