The Week in Review

I've mentioned a few times on this blog that while I am so excited about the potential in Harrison and for his life, I also live in fear of his loss of innocence. Right now, his capacity for trust is amazing. His period of stranger-anxiety lasted all of two weeks back in late March, but now he's such a brave little boy. He struts his little bow-legged strut fearlessly up and down the driveway, up and down our street, at the park, and at my office. He smiles at strangers in the supermarket and pulls himself up on the pantlegs and skirts of my friends.

On Saturday on our way out of the public market, Doug stood by with Harrison in the Kelty (thanks, Ash!) while I was at a stall buying some green beans and cantaloupes when we heard some scuffling and looked up to see two young boys, maybe fifteen years old, being pinned to the ground by two uniformed police officers, who had guns drawn. The police then removed a shiny silver gun from one of the boys. The shoppers and vendors went on about their business while the boys lay there on the ground and the officers finished patting them down and then handcuffed them.

I suppose we could have gotten hurt in the scuffle, but when we went back to the car I quietly cried behind my sunglasses thinking about those boys and my boy and wondering what happened to them and how an incident like that has become the norm in an urban market filled with immigrants, farmers, and yuppies like us—something to glance up at briefly but then quickly dismiss. It's too difficult and overwhelming to really consider the tangled reasons related mostly to racism and accompanying poverty, but also to sprawl, education, mcmansions, drugs, consumerism, hopelessness….and the list goes on. And it's everyone's fault. And so few people care. And even fewer people do anything to change it.

But these were boys. Young boys. And I'm sure their mamas got a terrible phone call that morning and it probably wasn't the first time.

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We'll call Tuesday Black Tuesday, because Dubya came. Thousands of Rochestarians came out to support him and hear him talk about social security. About 750 of us attended a peaceful protest downtown to voice our dissent with his various policies. It was depressing and exhilarating all at once, as I always find protests and rallies to be. I was struck and inspired by the number of elderly people there, and by the attendance of students and families with their children. I stood on Court Street across from about 7 kids under the age of 15. They were holding a gigantic banner that said, "No blood for oil" and were hooting and hollering at the passing cars and having a ball.

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On Wednesday I watched Finding Neverland for the second time. It's a film about a lot of things, but two of the main themes are loss of innocence in children and the importance of remaining creative, optimistic, and filled with hope and imagination. It's a beautiful film, and this time I cried even harder when Johnny Depp's character said, "young boys should never go to bed; they always wake up a day older.”

This week, everything seemed to point me in the same direction: I can't keep Harrison a little boy forever, but I don't want him to grow up too quickly either. I want him to be recognize his privilege and learn empathy and compassion for others. I will do my best to teach him about the world as I understand it and encourage him to want to learn about it for himself. And I hope he never loses the amazing capacity for laughter, mischief-making, trust, love, and faith in humanity that he has now.