It wasn’t the beautiful love shared creating me. It wasn’t even all the tenderness, the compassion, patience and discipline given, despite all my trials, in raising me. My parents’ greatest gift to me, alongside life itself, was true Freedom.
As a child, I had no concept of this. My parents, of course, gave us the basics. “Don’t hit your brother.” “You’re gonna clean up this mess you made!” “The cat is not a toy!!” You know, basic civilization things. Simple rules, not entirely adhered to, but very much set. Consistantly. As the third of four kids, I saw rules existed in our home. It was a given. I also saw some rules had fluidity. “OK, if you boys are gonna fight, take it outside!” And some rules did not. “The cat is still not a toy!!” They were serious about one, you don’t cross that line. The other, it depends on the circumstances.
Ninety-five percent of these rules fell into the latter category. My parents were wonderful judges. They applied the rules fairly, with gentle, yet strong hands. My brother and I would have to work it out between us. My room didn’t have to be totally spic and span. But if I chase the cat around the house again, I’m getting another spanking!!
They taught us two different levels of rules. They drew a line between absolute and negotiable. The absolutes were few and absolute. I absolutely knew, in this house, I was not allowed to hit my brother with a stick, even if he deserved it. I absolutely knew, in this house, you do not drop the cat from the second floor window to see if she lands on her feet. These rules were absolute and boy, did they mean it. You could really see the difference. There was no smiling, no gentle touch. Breaking these rules truly disappoints Dads. Breaking these rules even makes Moms cry. These rules were few. These rules were absolute.
One of these absolute rules, one I will never be able to thank them enough for. One I did not understand why, the implications not delved into. But Dad was serious. Mom would cry. In this house, we did not say the “n” word. Period. I didn’t know why, the reasons still obscure. It just always was. You will work it out with your brother without killing him. You will treat living creatures with care and respect, and prejudice is not acceptable. Period. In this house, these are our principles. We do not go below that line. These are absolute rules. Of these rules, my Dad was serious. Mom would cry.
My brother and the cat may disagree with me, but I believe my parent’s greatest gift of all was that “no ‘n’ word” rule. Because with that rule, my parents lit the path to true Freedom, just like that. They opened a whole new world for us. A world without blinders. The view, now panoramic. With that rule, they gave us the Liberty of the Individual, our own and all others. The derogatory grouping of all as one, now forbidden. The Essence of America’s Founding Principle absolute in this house.
They gave us the gift of each person, each individual, each story, unique. Each person no longer just a blur. This is the world they opened up for us by this rule. This they ingrained into us as a part of our life. A now, truly automatic part of our being. This absolute is their greatest gift to us.
As kids, we saw the first thing this rule did. It made us aware that prejudice even existed. You cannot fight what you cannot see. We heard the difference in some families, in some people. They did say the “n” word. And we noticed. Without that rule, we probably wouldn’t have even noticed. But with that rule, we could recognize prejudice. We could hear it, we could see it. This just doesn’t feel right. This disappoints Dads. This make Moms cry. We were, at least now, acutely aware prejudice exists. This rule gave us that step ahead. A sight advantage we didn’t even know we had. This rule allowed us to be able to see prejudice in others and eventually, most importantly, above all, recognize it in ourselves, the next step towards true Freedom.
Myself, my siblings, the path now lit, approached it as the unique individuals we each are. Big sister, always thought things out, made right choices, chose her friends wisely, Big brother, always the brave and outspoken, chose to fight against it, peer pressure be damned. Little sister, always had her natural kindness to help guide her. Myself, shamefully, was the one to truly hurt and disappoint my Dad. I made my Mom cry. This, my debt I now can never repay.
But this is how strong this gift is. This is how everlasting and ingrained this gift is. Through the few years it took for me to be aware, through the many, way too many, years I quietly ignored. Through the shameful times of even joining in, it never felt right. It always hurt to hear it. It has always hurt to see it. It has never tasted right coming from my mouth. Ever. No matter how justified I thought I was. I knew my Dad would be disappointed. I knew my Mom would cry.
My parents’ greatest gifts. They showed us what Love is. But I think, most importantly, they showed us what Hate looks like. They must have known that Hate can hurt much more than Love ever can. They taught us not only how to Love, but how to see Hate in others, and most importantly, above all, within ourselves. For this is true Freedom. This is my parents’ greatest gift.