Dear Rob Ford: My 6yr old would like share her lesson with you

For the last three or four summer camp days my spawn has been coming home with her water bottle full, so as always I’ve been following up with: Did you forget to drink your water today, why is your water bottle still full?, you need water to grow, and a 100 useful “fun” facts about why we need water. All of which were rebuffed with stories of how she drank all her water and re-filled it at camp. Which made sense the first two times. After the third day I caught on and would ask questions casting doubt and reminding her why it is important to tell the truth but she reassured me it was all legit.

Fast forward to day five or so when she had a string of supporting cast all of who she went with to fill the bottle and featuring a teacher who helped open the bottle. So of course I asked if I called her teacher would she support her story and what should happen if she doesn’t; To which my cleaver spawn even had punishment ideas. That’s of course until I called her bluff and suggested harsher punishment more befitting prolonged deception. She broke down and in tears admitted to all the lies in sequential order and then uttered as sincere of an apology as a six year old in tears could muster which was then followed up by a plea for clemency.

Her punishment was decided upon and agreed to by the both of us in three parts: One was a denial of privilege by rescinding her permission to attend a field trip that was planned for the next day to the Hockey Hall of Fame something she had been looking forward to for a very long time and even got a family member to purchase a hockey jersey of her favorite team to wear on the trip; Two education thru repetition, she would have to tell everyone who asked why she wasn’t going the whole truth of what happened; And three in her next video blog she would discuss the lesson she learn and different ways to rebuild trust.

She cried that morning before summer camp I almost did too, we shared our feelings and how we will hold each other accountable in love thru honest communication, how punishment can sometimes feel like lack of love in the moment and that even though that’s how she felt that she also knew in her heart that I loved her “dearly”. 

....Lessons from a six year old to Rob Ford  

Celebrating the lives, history and strength of those who were never meant to survive.

Heading to the beach in hopes of finally discussing HER aboriginal history with her. Not sure how much is too much and even where to start.
Reflecting on the stories of the residential-school system HER grandaunt shared with me, the separation from her family, everything she knew and the impact it still had on her.
Cherishing my baby's happiness in celebrating a day of her colonizers never sat well with me but here we are:
I'm dragging ass to the beach praying to the ancestors; hers and mines for wisdom, guidance and courage.
Shes smiling and skipping along in a oversize red Canada day hat she was gifted. #lesigh #ohCanada

While you sleep

My great grandmother, my grandmother my mother and my daughter are all alive, a precious bio-fact like a jewel I hold so dear. But on nights like these when I watch my daughter sleep I cant help but think of the history of evil that has impacted our lives from slavery, rape, servitude and incest, all four generations of us are all survivors of some of the worst types of evil this world has to offer.

And then I look at her sleep, so delicately peaceful, and unaware that even as a fetus she was called a "mutt" by her white father's white coworker and friend. Then I remembered the 1st time she came home and explained that she wished she lived in Jamaica where people looked like her. And as I asked her to further explain her feelings, it all faded to black as my heart sank. I stood there motionless with every racist encounter I've had flashing thru my mind and body, triggered, angry and speechless.

I focused on her words as she explained her discomfort and her new acknowledgement of the racial divide in authority figures at her school. I remembered mumbling something about our city's history and the need for more diversity and the pace of change.
But really, how do I explain to a small child that as different as she feels she will not only experience a multitude of racist encounters, racist people, racist systems of white idolatry but will also be treated differently because of her light skin privilege? A privilege that must always be checked.

 For now I stand here over her bed watching her sleep, praying to my ancestors, the universe and my black god(dess) that she (my peacefully sleeping daughter) will be as fierce, as brave, as strong, as wise and even more resilient than the five generations of women who have all survived and are all alive, loving her and teaching her the best way we can.

*Image - Family Tree (Limited Edition Lithograph) - Keith Mallett