I was sitting with Ms. Art at our Girl's Varsity Basketball game on Friday night. We were entertaining T, cheerleader Q's 3 year old daughter, as mommy was occupied. She was sitting on my lap as she scribbled in the colouring book I brought for her, munching on Wheat Thins. While I had the munchkin, Ms. Art and I chatted about the game, our week, and how excited we were for Winter Break.
That's when Mo, my lead photographer for Yearbook and a 6th year night school student, sat behind me and wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered in my ear.
Mo: Ms. Walker, want to know a secret?
[T nuzzels into my chest to try and hear the secret.]
Me: Sure, what's up?
Mo: See that man right there, two over from you, in the front?
Me: The one in the plaid?
Mo: Yeah. That's my father.
Me: Oh really? Should I introduce myself?
Mo: Hahaha, oh no, don't do that. He hasn't said a single word to me since he got here.
Me: Huh???
Mo: Yeah, he's seen me and won't talk to me or look at me a second time.
Now, what would you have said? What do you tell a teenage girl, who's father is sitting right by her and is completely ignoring that she exists? What do you say to a girl who is 19 years old and just realized she has a sister who she didn't know existed? What do you say to a girl who sees that her father refuses to be in her life, but is willing to travel across town to go to his other daughter's basketball game? What do you say to the girl who sees that her father has managed to get one daughter out of his life (and who has now taken 6 years to graduate high school) but has gotten the other into one of the best public high school's in the city? What do you say?
I was in awe of her. Her tone claimed she didn't care. She brushed it off like a champ. She was able to laugh through the whole thing and keep doing what she was doing as if he wasn't there. She did that while I sat there, anger welling up in me and tears welling up in my eyes. I was trying to formulate the words I would say to that man. The words that would make him feel guilty for his crime against his own daughter. For more than just not being there, but pretending she doesn't exist. I imagined verbally pummeling him, making him feel tiny and awful about the decisions he made. I wanted him to feel the pain I imagined that Mo felt.
While Mo acted like she was fine, I knew she wasn't. Who can be fine with this situation? She didn't have to tell me that was her father. But I knew she told me because she needed to hear something. In the long pause in our dialogue, I wracked my brain for the perfect words to make her feel better. However, the truth is, there are no words that were going to heal that situation. There was nothing that I could do that could make it go away.
I've found in moments like this, where a child tells me some unimaginable thing has happened, there are only 3 words that are appropriate:
Me: Huh... well.... I love you. You are an amazing person and that's his loss to not have you in his life, not yours. You're better off with someone like that not in your life.
Mo: Oh I know... I just... yeah. I love you, too.
Me: Are you ok??
Mo: Yeah, I'm totally fine. I just wanted you to know.
That's when I squeezed her arms around me real tight and told her she didn't have to stay if she didn't want to. She said she was cool and sauntered off, taking pictures of the sporting event. She later introduced me to her sister that she just met, and her sister's teammates. She spent half of the next basketball game talking with her sister and getting to know her.
When there are no words that are going to solve the problem or heal the pain, I've found that "I love you" is what needs to be said. While it may not fix whatever is going on, it never hurts to know you have someone in your corner of the boxing ring of life.
That's when Mo, my lead photographer for Yearbook and a 6th year night school student, sat behind me and wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered in my ear.
Mo: Ms. Walker, want to know a secret?
[T nuzzels into my chest to try and hear the secret.]
Me: Sure, what's up?
Mo: See that man right there, two over from you, in the front?
Me: The one in the plaid?
Mo: Yeah. That's my father.
Me: Oh really? Should I introduce myself?
Mo: Hahaha, oh no, don't do that. He hasn't said a single word to me since he got here.
Me: Huh???
Mo: Yeah, he's seen me and won't talk to me or look at me a second time.
Now, what would you have said? What do you tell a teenage girl, who's father is sitting right by her and is completely ignoring that she exists? What do you say to a girl who is 19 years old and just realized she has a sister who she didn't know existed? What do you say to a girl who sees that her father refuses to be in her life, but is willing to travel across town to go to his other daughter's basketball game? What do you say to the girl who sees that her father has managed to get one daughter out of his life (and who has now taken 6 years to graduate high school) but has gotten the other into one of the best public high school's in the city? What do you say?
I was in awe of her. Her tone claimed she didn't care. She brushed it off like a champ. She was able to laugh through the whole thing and keep doing what she was doing as if he wasn't there. She did that while I sat there, anger welling up in me and tears welling up in my eyes. I was trying to formulate the words I would say to that man. The words that would make him feel guilty for his crime against his own daughter. For more than just not being there, but pretending she doesn't exist. I imagined verbally pummeling him, making him feel tiny and awful about the decisions he made. I wanted him to feel the pain I imagined that Mo felt.
While Mo acted like she was fine, I knew she wasn't. Who can be fine with this situation? She didn't have to tell me that was her father. But I knew she told me because she needed to hear something. In the long pause in our dialogue, I wracked my brain for the perfect words to make her feel better. However, the truth is, there are no words that were going to heal that situation. There was nothing that I could do that could make it go away.
I've found in moments like this, where a child tells me some unimaginable thing has happened, there are only 3 words that are appropriate:
Me: Huh... well.... I love you. You are an amazing person and that's his loss to not have you in his life, not yours. You're better off with someone like that not in your life.
Mo: Oh I know... I just... yeah. I love you, too.
Me: Are you ok??
Mo: Yeah, I'm totally fine. I just wanted you to know.
That's when I squeezed her arms around me real tight and told her she didn't have to stay if she didn't want to. She said she was cool and sauntered off, taking pictures of the sporting event. She later introduced me to her sister that she just met, and her sister's teammates. She spent half of the next basketball game talking with her sister and getting to know her.
When there are no words that are going to solve the problem or heal the pain, I've found that "I love you" is what needs to be said. While it may not fix whatever is going on, it never hurts to know you have someone in your corner of the boxing ring of life.
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