
I took this picture outside a church in Hollywood yesterday.
One of the most difficult things to accept about being a parent is how loudly your own actions, not your words and all their good intentions but your
actions, speak to your children. You can't think about this too much- you'll be wracked with guilt or embarrassed and forced to call yourself a hypocrite on an almost daily basis and who needs it -parenting is hard enough as it is. Shortly after my second child began spending a few morning hours in preschool I developed the habit of getting a cup of coffee and a piece of cake (yes I said cake - with frosting and everything) for a private breakfast in my car. I would pick up my treat, park under a beautiful tree, listen to the radio and enjoy. Now, I'm not advocating this. I know it wasn't good for me. I know there was a lot going on that I wasn't dealing with while I drove around on a Tuesday morning deciding between carrot and coconut. I gained weight and developed chronic stomach problems. I wouldn't want my kids to know that I did this ( and how long I did this, I won't even tell you but it was
long) and I would never want them to deal with stuff this way themselves. I want them to be healthier than I was, ready to deal with whatever comes their way with exercise and, I don't know, talking maybe. But, still, I'm okay with that period of disconnect between my behavior and what I was telling my kids. First, I'm better now. Secondly, this morning ritual got me through a tough time. Yes, it was
hypocrisy but it was basically harmless
hypocrisy. The cake, the occasional extra drink, the tiny, infrequent little cigarette -of course it should go without saying that you can't hurt yourself or others, but that fun, harmless thing you do that you don't want your kids to do or know about, the kind of hypocrisy that doesn't require you to turn off a piece of your heart - this can allow for good parenting with out the threat of becoming an insufferable bore.
Raising my children in 2009 in Los Angeles there are some heart breaking truths we face everyday. Approaching these, my words and actions have to work in tandem - no hypocrisy here - otherwise, I risk breaking hearts. There are more than 73,000 homeless people in Los Angeles. My children can't understand how there can be even one. It's right and good that they feel this way. This is the way I felt once. It's the way you felt, too. And yet, every day most of us pass at least one homeless person, often without even a glance. This has been the situation for years and we've adjusted to the sight of people sleeping in doorways, digging through trash cans for food. We have become inured to it. Our children have not. One of my greatest fears is that they will if we don't unite our words and our actions to do something about it.
Frankly, I'm not holding my breath until this country makes the financial commitment necessary to truly end the problem of homelessness and it's attending evils of untreated mental illness and drug addiction. I wish we, as a nation, would commit. I would vote and pay taxes for real, lasting, effective programs. But I can't see it happening soon. Still, I, as an individual, as a mother, must do something. How can I teach my children to be kind, fair and just if I'm willing to walk by someone who is hungry? How can I tell them to share if I won't?
Here are a few simple things you can do to help the hungry and the homeless. You may do some of these and more. If you do, thanks. Your children and mine are growing up together. I'm so grateful to know they'll be in good company.
1 Help your child organize a canned food drive at her school, then drive her and the food to the local food bank to make the delivery
2 When my kids were in preschool I organized a toothbrush and tooth paste drive for a local homeless outreach organization. We had a dad, who was a dentist, volunteer to come and give a lesson on proper tooth brushing too. This was a fun, helpful way young kids could help others and learn something themselves. It was so successful we did it 3 years in a row and, I think, it's still happening at the school.
3 Volunteer to make meals at a homeless center. My second grader will be doing this as part of a field trip this week.
4 This last is my favorite thing to do because it's really challenging for me. We call it dinner for 5. When my family of 4 has dinner in a restaurant we pack up all the leftovers nicely and ask the restaurant for plastic utensils and napkins. We take the bread. Then, we go for a walk and find someone to give the rest of our dinner to. This is not easy because you have to do exactly the opposite of what you might be inclined to do. You have to go up to someone homeless and talk with him. You need to look into his eyes. You need to ask him if he is hungry and tell him what you have and that you'd love to share it with him. You need to be prepared to be rejected because some people will scoff at your offer. That's happened to me more than once. Don't take it personally, someone else close by will want the meal. Move on and ask again. You need to be prepared to have someone take it without looking in your eyes. Smile anyway, believing she can feel it. You need to be prepared for heartbreaking excitement at the offer of a meal, especially in the young men. You need to be able to have someone who looks a little like your son smile at you as if no one has ever been so nice to him before in his life. You need to be prepared to reach into your wallet because his eyes will remind you of your boys' eyes and you'll want to tell yourself that in the morning, when he's hungry again, he will buy breakfast with the money you give him. You need to decide if you will take the hand of the grateful old man who offers you his rough, dirty one. Take it if you can but it's okay if you can't. You need to be prepared for your child to resist participating. He's scared. She's uncomfortable. You know how that feels, don't you?
Look, I know these small gestures won't solve the homeless situation in America. But that's not what I'm going for here. I'm looking for ways to empower my kids, to keep their hearts whole and reclaim what I fear is a missing piece of mine, of all of ours, as we accept that homelessness has become the norm.
There are many things we as individuals and families can do until we, as a nation, come to our hearts. I take a little hope that this difficult economy will increase our collective compassion. But, you know, I'm an optimist.