behaviour

Day 24 – Democracy is Dead

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

What the fuck is the point in pretending anymore? I am so tired of this “democracy” and “free the hostages” narrative spat out by the media… and yes I’m getting political tonight.

Actually every single day I am political… not only in the news I share and consume, but more so in the way I raise my kids.

No, I don’t tell them the excruciating information about the atrocities in the Democratic Republic of Congo, or Yemmen, or Palestine, or Sudan. I don’t share with them the images, and work hard to avoid them catching glimpses… because they are too much. I can’t talk to them about violence against women yet… because right now, I’m laying foundations that do not need to be layered with fear and horror, and I am acutely aware that this in itself is privilege.

I have however shared that in some places, there are people eating grasshoppers because there is no food. That we don’t go to McDonald’s because big companies like them (and the list is LONG) are spending money on bombs that kill people like us. That there are people who control others  and that sometimes, people do horrible things because they are greedy for power. Power is absolutely a topical word in our home recently.

When the ICJ trial was on between South Africa and Isreal, I played pokemon court with my oldest child. My partner and I have different opinions about how involved our kids should get… and his concerns are valid, so through play and story, we have conversations about equity, life and how we can do our part in the ways that we can.

This morning as I watched them, I saw just how deeply political this life is. How I am raising future custodians of our planet, and I thought about how this means teaching them by being aligned myself.

Tonight, I feel like the pendulum has swung the other way, and I want to scream. I want to howl and grieve the losses of every single child that has been murdered.

I want to dance in celebration and solidarity with the students protesting.

I want to shake the world… and make sense of it… and in feeling this feeling, I know 2 things; once my children sleep I need to roll out my yoga mat and center myself, AND there are tides changing in the collective consciousness. I might be called radical because of many choices … but seeing just how messed up this is isn’t radical. It’s the only sane response to the madness of the last 8 months.

Palestine has been a calayst to the world waking.

Randomly today, P asked me to explain the word “dismantle” to him. I asked for context (something we’ve been practicing) and we worked out what it meant. All the while I was thinking… if we dismantle the systems of oppression and violence in birth, and within a generation, the effects will ripple outwards catalysing mass change. Not quite the explanation he was after, but it’s been rattling around in my brain since.

There is so much violence in birth.

There is so much violence in parenting.

Is it really surprising that the world, controlled by traumatised (mostly) men is really as fucked up as it is right now ?

If we had a whole generation of children born, in supported, empowered environment, with parents who felt safe and supported in the formative years, the ripple of these children, feeling understood, seen and held regardless of their day, would be immense.

It brings me hope… and also rage. Because change is so possible… BUT systemic change is required… and until more people rebel, change won’t come. We don’t have to riot… but we do have to wake up… and this society is built on a majority of the population sleepwalking through their life… not asking questions, paying the bills, and being silent.

I’m tired of pretending… of living my life and washing my dishes and taking my kids to the park while children just like mine are blown apart or starved.

My kids may not understand all of it, and I hope when they’re older they’ll see why I try to protect their innocence, in part because I know my ancestors had children aware of so much pain so young… but regardless I know I’ll be able to say I did my best.

Parenting is the most political role I think there is… and screw the pretences of democracy – one thing I’m sure of is that democracy the way its marketed to us is dead. Right now, all we can do is figure out how to play the game of this society without selling our souls in the process.

If you have any thoughts, I’d love to hear them.

Thanks for reading, with love,

Rohana x

Good Kids Communicate their needs

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

When I wrote the title of this piece, I cringed! It’s inspired by the continuous discussion and questions asked of parents, about whether or not their children are good, because they don’t cry a lot.

Good? Really – what makes a good kid? Is there a set criteria? It’s something I’ve been think a lot about recently, and definitely something that carries so much weight and pressure, as adults who were raised with the notion that good is desirable and that anything else would be ‘not enough’. From a generation that was manipulated into behaviours that got us rewards, the notion of a good kid comes with a hefty price.

But bear with me. I don’t actually think that only ‘good’ kids communicate; instead, its about a sense of safety.

If communication is required in some form, to allow meaningful interactions with others around us, then communication, whether through spoken language, body gestures or other forms non-verbal interactions is a cornerstone of our existence. Therefore, it stands that I will assume, communication in ANY form, is the way that kids communicate their needs.

The caveat here, is that when kids are responded to, they continue to communicate – thus falling into the ‘good’ category (i.e. safe); whereas if they are ignored, neglected, or pushed away, these children often learn that their attempts at communication are a waste of energy – and energy is a precious resource.

Good kids, are kids who, despite it being unpalatable for their grown ups, are safe enough to continue their efforts at communication – they are SAFE in the knowledge that at some point they will be responded to. And so they persist.

But still, society asks if our children are good. They are praised for not crying on an airplane journey. They are hushed when they upset on a bus. They are given screens in public places just to avoid embarrassment; and if this isn’t an option and they act up, they are often labelled ‘naughty’ or ‘bad’ or something equally as ridiculous – either by passers by, or by overwhelmed parents who just want to get out of the situation, often being triggered by the fact that we have been conditioned into the unacceptability of these outbursts of noise. We sometimes even hush their joy for the same reason – fearing it will bother people around.

But it is an outdated idea that good kids are quiet. The notion that good children don’t cry, is actually more telling of the society around us, the expectation that kids should be seen and not heard, that kids – despite being so dependent on us – should never cause inconvenience by crying, or communicating that they require something that puts us out.

Not all kids will do this. Some will, in a last ditch attempt to gain the response, acceptance and love they crave; be extra loud, extra hyper, extra – everything; and again this isn’t effective communication, because they haven’t felt safe.

Truly, as we learn more about children, the way they communicate with their voices, their bodies, their cries. The way that they play and process, and the way that they marvel at the world with eyes so bright – all of the time, communicating. The way that we respond matters. Safe kids, will communicate their needs.

Quiet kids, are often quiet because they don’t feel heard, or feel like they shouldn’t be heard. They have internalized that nobody is going to respond; and so make sure to take up as little space as possible – often becoming adults who do the same and cannot set boundaries, honour their needs or even understand why it’s so hard to communicate with peers/others.

So what makes a good kid? Is there a set criteria?

I don’t think so. I think, though it’s hard, the question we should be asking is about those raising them. What makes a good parent? How do we respond to our children to let them know, even if we don’t fully understand what they are telling us, that we value their communication? What do we do, even when we don’t approve, that let’s them know, all communication is valid, all their needs and wants can be heard, even if that means we say no.

What do you think?

As ever, thanks for reading,

Rohana x