"Careful the things you say,children will listen."
-Stephen Sondheim
Given that the holiday season is upon us, most of those who have signed on to be featured in upcoming posts have a bit too much on their plates to devote the proper time to answering such difficult questions right now. Instead of letting the blog fall to the wayside until the new year,I decided this would be a good opportunity for me to try my hand at writing another post of my own. Choosing my topic,however, proved to be a more difficult decision. After several subway and coffee shop brainstorming sessions, I had many interesting ideas,but nothing that felt quite right. That is, nothing that felt quite right until synchronicity stepped in. I was entering my usual subway route last week, scurrying through an endless sea of commuters and scanning my chosen car for an empty seat. I was a bit flustered, running from one obligation to the next, and once I was seated,completely ready to lose myself in my music and thoughts of the moment. It should have taken a lot to get my attention, but it didn't. All it took was a little girl of about 7 or 8, standing above me. She not only captured my attention,but inspired this post in the process.
I'm sure it was her shining,torso length, golden hair that initially caught my eye,but it was that unmistakable look--the look of the school Christmas pageant circa first or second grade--that held my gaze. The long,puffy hem of her dress peeking out from under her coat, the white tights, the little black shoes, and most importantly, the hair. On special occasions like this, the dress is nothing without the hairdo. I could see that this particular young lady had naturally fine, straight hair, which her mother had obviously gone to great lengths to form into perfect ringlets, forming a cascade of curls that flowed down her pint-sized back. To me, she was the poster child of the school Christmas program. The epitome of sugar and spice and everything nice. I'm sure I was smiling as I was reminded of days past, when I myself wasn't so far from this very image. I was just about to resume my thoughtful music listening when I became distracted yet again. This time it was the shrill voices of two college aged young women, engaging in an apparently, very exciting conversation. My first instinct was to reach for the volume dial,but I stopped short when I realized they were discussing their appearances. Both because of this blog and because I've struggled with appearance issues myself, I started to half listen. This half listening turned to whole listening when I noticed the little girl's eyes lock in on this very same conversation. It dabbled a little bit in clothing, a little in accessories, and then reached a noticeable focal point with the topic of hair. As the color and texture comparison between the two friends began, I noticed the young girl lean into the subway pole to get a better view. A few times, she picked up a handful of ringlets and studied their color as if to compare notes, then returned all attention to the conversation, eager to hear what would be discussed next. When the shift was made to the matter of curly vs. straight, it was clear that the stakes had been raised.
In all honesty, I was so fascinated by what I was seeing that I don't remember the exact details of what was said from this point on. One point that was made very clear, however, was the consensus that straight hair was preferable. At the first mention of this statement, I watched the little girl's fingers slowly make their way to her hair. As the friends continued to chat, her eyes widened and began to bounce back and forth,as if she was watching the final match of the US Open rather than a discussion on the subway. Slowly, her fingers began to move from the top of her head to the end of each ringlet, discreetly combing through the curls. With each response, they became deeper and deeper entwined in her hair, until it became obvious that she was indeed trying to straighten it. I was astounded. My eyes made their way to the mother, who had finally noticed what was going on, but gave no reaction whatsoever. When the straightening motion reached an almost unbearable level of intensity, the little girl abruptly turned to her mother and pleaded, " Mommy, I want to straighten my hair!" The mother's only response was a rather curt, "We will,but I want Daddy to see it first." I was flabbergasted. This seemingly happy, bubbly little girl, who had paid absolutely no attention to the state of her hair upon entering the train, was now miserable and embarrassed by her curly hair, simply because she overheard a ten minute conversation between two random strangers. As I rose from my seat to exit the train, I felt this overwhelming urge to lean down and tell her that her hair looked beautiful. But feeling that I would be overstepping my boundaries and possibly complicating matters even further, I chose to mind my own business and silently left the car.
I know that this sort of thing happens all the time. Part of being a child is wanting to emulate what we see as "good" in those around us, especially grown-ups. I remember quite vividly, being about 7 or 8 years old, and forcing myself to swallow a mouthful of an Almond Joy candy bar, simply because my dad was eating one too. But this particular circumstance seemed different to me. I can't help but wonder if that little girl will be in constant need of approval, altering her appearance to fit each new trend or popular opinion, and feeling ugly, ashamed, even worthless, if she doesn't get it. Or will she simply be someone who grows to learn who she is, becoming confident and comfortable in her appearance, regardless of whether her hair is long or short, blond or brown, curly or straight. Am I overreacting? Am I merely too sensitive to issues like this? Perhaps. I'm sure that very thought is running through a few minds right now. But I definitely feel this is something worth noting. Those two young women were only doing what young women do, but this is a blatant example of why it's important to consider the possible weight of your words, especially when children are near. As my parents were so fond of saying, "Mouseketeers have big ears".
The deeper I dove into my own battle with anorexia, the more apparent it became to me and those who love me, that at the core this really had nothing to do with weight or vanity. Something much, much deeper was manifesting itself in my outward appearance. But it was my initial desire to change my appearance to look like the "other girls" that led me to diet...which led to my anorexia...which almost killed me. It's not a coincidence that I've chosen to write on my birthday. This January, it will be 10 years since the doctors informed my parents that I would probably die within two weeks. That's 9 birthdays and counting. For those of you who don't believe in miracles, well, call it what you want, but if you've met me you've seen one in the flesh. This year more than ever, I've become increasingly aware of the beauty of family, of true friends, of life, and of love. I never dreamed that it would be even remotely possible for me to know life in this way. And yet for my one tale of triumph, how many are out there who will never know that beauty, not even for a moment? I shudder to think of what so many are suffering this very moment. I'm thankful for having gone through what I did, so that I am able to do exactly what I'm doing...hopefully making a difference. But that's not to say there isn't a part of me that wishes I could go back and have a little talk with the Sara you see above. If I was feeling the pressures of certain standards of beauty when I was growing up, I can't even imagine what it must be like for today's children. If we,as adults, feel bombarded with sensationalized images of perfection, think of how daunting it must be for a young child who hasn't even begun to think about who they are as a person.
Unfortunately, I don't have an eye opening, definitive statement on how to solve this problem. I'm certainly no expert in child psychology. But I have been doing some networking, getting in touch with like minded and like hearted individuals who are concerned about the same issue, and hopefully some new, innovative, and ultimately more effective courses of action can be set in motion. Until then, I don't know. We're only human. We're always going to say the wrong thing, at the wrong time, in the presence of the wrong person...possibly a child. We certainly can't be held accountable for how each and every person will interpret what we say and do, or how it might affect them. But I don't think it's too much to ask that we try to acknowledge that there may be someone watching, listening, learning. Perhaps that simple acknowledgment will spark us to be more accepting and less judgmental towards our own perceived flaws. And maybe through that example of learning to be okay with the reflection we see in the mirror, maybe the next little girl will want to keep her curls a little while longer....just to show her daddy how much she likes them.
