How to change your tune
This piece is from the series “A Loving Lens”, a collection of essays written to help us consider what else is possible…
I was standing in line at the post office. A woman in front of me was speakingshrieking with fervent enthusiasm at a diapered baby suspended in a burlap sling around her waist. Thick brown curls competed for space on his tiny scalp.
“Here you go Diego! Take my wal-let, my WALL-ET.”
“Dat’s a walluht,” he parroted, pointing at the pink suede pouch on display. It was strange hearing a complete sentence exit a mouth that tiny.
“Goooood Diego! It IS a waaaalet.”
A clerk appeared from behind the counter..
“Dat’s a laydee.”
“Yesss Diego! You’re right!. That is a LAY-DEE. A LAY-DEE. And we’re going to give her some MON-EY. Some MUHN-KNEE!”
“Dat’s we muhnee,”
“Smarty pants dance,”” smiled the clerk as she slid the package onto the scale.
“Yes he is. He’s VER-Y bright.” confirmed his mother. “He’s also bilingual.”
Reflexes turned my head away from her verbal preening. Gross. I wanted no part in the making of a mini megalomaniac, one whose impending britches might eventually overtake him lest his mom continue her runaway boasting. As sarcastic nausea seized me, suddenly a question seeped into my snark, loosening it from its reactive tracks.
Why was it more acceptable to shrink than shine?
Despite her comfort with absorbing all the air in the room, what was so offensive about a mother affirming her child’s gifts? I ascribed my aversion to my own protective impulse, not wanting to expose her son to exceptionalism as a prerequisite for existence. But what if he was exceptional, even if his current qualifying trait would eventually expire once other kids his age caught up? Wasn’t the fact that a fellow traveler had landed on the planet cause enough to rejoice? Why temper his mother’s exuberance?
Unsure where my hesitant reticence had taken root, I wondered if the inculcated statement floating in my head–the whodoyouthinkyouare that’s not a question -was complicit. Its disdainful refrain was familiar terrain but not one I wished to enforce. Maybe changing its tone would dethrone the negative drone, replacing accusation with curiosity. Who does she think he is?
Hmm. Could I help him be that too?
Enough knee-jerk jerkdom. Life will have its fluctuating way with him no matter what his temperance, so why not pack him a hardy lunch for the ride? Why seal him a ceiling on possibility?
What if I chose to celebrate with her, to collectively toast his burgeoning prowess?
He’s bilingual? How fabulous! Maybe when he grows up he’ll be a bridge between communities. Or a writer who translates the beauty of another culture. Or a diplomat who creates peace treaties for the world. Or a good neighbor. Go Diego!!
It costs nothing to affirm each other’s gifts.
Most of us know that we have gifts. Even if we’re not confident in them, we know they’re there, but sometimes a dearth of mirth at our arrival on the planet makes it harder to open the package. It can help to know that there is always somebody out there who needs your special sauce. And that falsifying modesty actually deprives others of your innate flair, turning win-win into waste-waste, because a gift comes alive when you give it.
All of us have something valuable to share, and if we keep reigning each other in with constrictive britches we stifle soaring. Too big for your britches really just means that the targeted offender had the courage to go beyond where we were taught to stay. They exceeded our limits – not theirs! They went on a cruise we were told we couldn’t afford, oftentimes because in our family of origin invisibility equaled safety. Refraining from wavemaking and blending in are strategic ways to stay afloat in an unpredictable boat.
Old habits die hard, but they do die, especially when we choose to birth a new belief.
And like Diego’s mother would say, practicepractice PRAC-TICE.
The next time you find yourself imposing a law of average on someone, reining in their potential parade, try high-fiving their aliveness instead. A beauty gratuity goes a loving way.