Something I wrote
Joylyn
I wrote this and am trying to get it published. It is a true story.
Please do NOT forward it. But I thought it relevent.
Joylyn
*******
Expectations
By Joylyn Fowler
copywrite 2002
It was my first outing alone as a new mom, and I was trying to nurse
discreetly. After getting my daughter latched on, I looked around--had
anyone been watching? Did anyone see me, or any part of me? Id read
about moms being asked to cover up, go to the bathroom, or leave&would
that happen to me? Sure enough marching directly toward me was an older
lady with a scowl on her face.
I wanted to run, but Lexie was just now nursing well, so I made myself
be still. Was this woman going to tell me to go someplace private to
feed my baby? Or maybe it was the fact I was a white woman with a dark,
obviously bi-racial child. My husband and I had been together for years,
people had been rude to us in the past. One woman, obviously an older
one like the one coming so quickly toward me, had phoned our house for
weeks after our engagement announcement had appeared in the local paper,
begging me not to marry, leaving long messages about the dangers of
interracial marriage. I knew when I married my husband and decided to
have children that racism was going to be something we would
encounterbut I had not wanted to encounter it while feeding my newborn
baby.
The woman sat down beside me, and leaned over to get a good look. She
was about 80 and her face was lined, so that her mouth looked like it
was always frowning. I couldnt tell what she was thinking, but thinking
she was, it was obvious she had something to say and I was sure I didnt
want to hear it! I remembered once a few years before when I had
complained to my mother about people giving Mark and me dirty looks. My
mother told me that I had a choice. I could be negative, decide that the
look was directed at me, and internalize those negative feelings,
becoming annoyed, angry and upset. My day would be ruined. Or I could
make another choice. I could choose to think that those people were
simply admiring us. That they felt we were a lovely, attractive couple
and that it was wonderful that we were together. I could then lift my
head and smile at them.
I had followed this advice for years, and I found that it did make a
difference. Sometimes people werent giving me a dirty look but were
looking at the price of eggs behind me, or thinking of their job or the
laundry they needed to do. Either way, when I changed my attitude, and
simply lifted my head and smiled, those same people often would smile at
me. And if they didnt, it was still ok, because I was not allowing
their attitude to affect memy choice was to simply smile, and walk on.
And so now, I did the same thing. I simply smiled at her and gazed at my
baby. Then she spoke.
Good for you!
I must have looked confused because she went on, Good for you for
breastfeeding. So many moms are not breastfeeding today.
I was shocked, but she didnt notice, she just began to talk. She talked
about her children and how she nursed them all for a long time, you
dont want to know how long! She spoke about how people would get mad
because she would nurse her babies anywhere. I would never feed them on
the toilet, when my babies were hungry I would just nurse them. She
talked about how sad she was when her daughters did not breastfeed her
grandchildren, but she brightened as she spoke about how her
granddaughter was due any day now with her first great-grandchild. She
was leaving next week and hoped to be there before the birth, her
granddaughter wanted her help with the new baby, and with breastfeeding.
And I sat there, my daughter comfortably in my arms, and this woman,
whom I had prejudged so harshly, smiling at her excitement, and glad
that I had smiled at her.
She talked for a while, but I could tell there was something else she
wanted. After a bit Lexie finished and came off the breast with that
milky grin I had already grown to love. The woman smiled at it herself
and then, cautiously, asked if she could hold my baby. I hesitated for a
minute and then realized this old woman couldnt get far, and handed my
daughter over to her. With practiced, sure hands, she held Lexie up for
a minute and told my daughter what a beautiful child she was. Then this
strong woman, who had obviously earned every wrinkle in her face, pulled
my daughter close to her and said, I think this is how my great
grandchild will look. You see, my granddaughter married a black man.
What a fuss that was, in my family. Didnt know I was related to so many
damn fools! She raised her eyes in disgust. They all told my
granddaughter that Id never allow it, that I was too old to accept a
black grandson-in-law. But I put them straight. I danced at their
wedding, when other folks refused to attend. And now Im going Arizona
to see my new grandbaby!
I watched her cuddle my child, and watched my child cuddle into this
remarkable woman. After a bit, she gently placed Lexie back into my
arms, and as she stood, she thanked me for letting her hold my baby.
Please do NOT forward it. But I thought it relevent.
Joylyn
*******
Expectations
By Joylyn Fowler
copywrite 2002
It was my first outing alone as a new mom, and I was trying to nurse
discreetly. After getting my daughter latched on, I looked around--had
anyone been watching? Did anyone see me, or any part of me? Id read
about moms being asked to cover up, go to the bathroom, or leave&would
that happen to me? Sure enough marching directly toward me was an older
lady with a scowl on her face.
I wanted to run, but Lexie was just now nursing well, so I made myself
be still. Was this woman going to tell me to go someplace private to
feed my baby? Or maybe it was the fact I was a white woman with a dark,
obviously bi-racial child. My husband and I had been together for years,
people had been rude to us in the past. One woman, obviously an older
one like the one coming so quickly toward me, had phoned our house for
weeks after our engagement announcement had appeared in the local paper,
begging me not to marry, leaving long messages about the dangers of
interracial marriage. I knew when I married my husband and decided to
have children that racism was going to be something we would
encounterbut I had not wanted to encounter it while feeding my newborn
baby.
The woman sat down beside me, and leaned over to get a good look. She
was about 80 and her face was lined, so that her mouth looked like it
was always frowning. I couldnt tell what she was thinking, but thinking
she was, it was obvious she had something to say and I was sure I didnt
want to hear it! I remembered once a few years before when I had
complained to my mother about people giving Mark and me dirty looks. My
mother told me that I had a choice. I could be negative, decide that the
look was directed at me, and internalize those negative feelings,
becoming annoyed, angry and upset. My day would be ruined. Or I could
make another choice. I could choose to think that those people were
simply admiring us. That they felt we were a lovely, attractive couple
and that it was wonderful that we were together. I could then lift my
head and smile at them.
I had followed this advice for years, and I found that it did make a
difference. Sometimes people werent giving me a dirty look but were
looking at the price of eggs behind me, or thinking of their job or the
laundry they needed to do. Either way, when I changed my attitude, and
simply lifted my head and smiled, those same people often would smile at
me. And if they didnt, it was still ok, because I was not allowing
their attitude to affect memy choice was to simply smile, and walk on.
And so now, I did the same thing. I simply smiled at her and gazed at my
baby. Then she spoke.
Good for you!
I must have looked confused because she went on, Good for you for
breastfeeding. So many moms are not breastfeeding today.
I was shocked, but she didnt notice, she just began to talk. She talked
about her children and how she nursed them all for a long time, you
dont want to know how long! She spoke about how people would get mad
because she would nurse her babies anywhere. I would never feed them on
the toilet, when my babies were hungry I would just nurse them. She
talked about how sad she was when her daughters did not breastfeed her
grandchildren, but she brightened as she spoke about how her
granddaughter was due any day now with her first great-grandchild. She
was leaving next week and hoped to be there before the birth, her
granddaughter wanted her help with the new baby, and with breastfeeding.
And I sat there, my daughter comfortably in my arms, and this woman,
whom I had prejudged so harshly, smiling at her excitement, and glad
that I had smiled at her.
She talked for a while, but I could tell there was something else she
wanted. After a bit Lexie finished and came off the breast with that
milky grin I had already grown to love. The woman smiled at it herself
and then, cautiously, asked if she could hold my baby. I hesitated for a
minute and then realized this old woman couldnt get far, and handed my
daughter over to her. With practiced, sure hands, she held Lexie up for
a minute and told my daughter what a beautiful child she was. Then this
strong woman, who had obviously earned every wrinkle in her face, pulled
my daughter close to her and said, I think this is how my great
grandchild will look. You see, my granddaughter married a black man.
What a fuss that was, in my family. Didnt know I was related to so many
damn fools! She raised her eyes in disgust. They all told my
granddaughter that Id never allow it, that I was too old to accept a
black grandson-in-law. But I put them straight. I danced at their
wedding, when other folks refused to attend. And now Im going Arizona
to see my new grandbaby!
I watched her cuddle my child, and watched my child cuddle into this
remarkable woman. After a bit, she gently placed Lexie back into my
arms, and as she stood, she thanked me for letting her hold my baby.