Kids say the darndest things.
Or sometimes it's what they don't say...
Two Saturdays-ago, I was coaching mountain biking for 8-10 year-olds at the Seymour Demonstration Forest. The rain was coming down - mercilessly. We were cold. Coats were soaked through. Fingers were numb. Spirits were low.
As we biked along, I could feel the palpable lack of enthusiasm lingering in the damp air. Seven children, fourteen mini, soggy gloves; the discomfort was indisputable and yet nobody was complaining (...well, except for that one kid).
In an effort to lighten the mood and bring some distraction to the saturation, I started singing a few lines from a tune I had stuck in my head. One of the young boys turns his head around and asks what song I was singing. Not knowing the name of the song, I informed the 8-year old that it is a song by a cool feminist artist (Milck).
.....
Silence.
.....
"Do you know what that word means? Feminism." I ask.
"No."
So, I explain in 8-year old terminology. "Feminism is when you believe that women should have equal rights to men." Then, "Are you a feminist?" I ask him.
Instantly: "I don't think so."
I say nothing more. We continue riding. Pedaling under the canopy of the forest. The rain has now slightly subsided. Five minutes have passed. This child I had this interaction with has now pedalled his way towards the front of the pack, away from me as I bring up the rear. Next thing I know, a 20-inch wheeled bike and it's rider have turned around and are heading back towards me. I wondered where he was going.
"Okay, I do believe in it." he said.
It took me a moment to process just what this comment was in reference to. When I pieced it together, my heart was warm
He said nothing else. The idea that an 8-year old boy reflected for several minutes on the concept of Feminism and took a moral stance to believe in it. And the fact that he left his position at the front of our troop (among a group of competitive boys) to come inform me of this decision. My heart was full. I think our future is in good hands.
I maintain great optimism for what this future generation will do for gender equity, for disability rights, for reconciliation, for diversity and inclusion, for obliterating barriers, for smashing the glass ceiling, for anti-racism, for anti-homophobia, and for whatever else comes up that we don't even know about yet.
Two Saturdays-ago, I was coaching mountain biking for 8-10 year-olds at the Seymour Demonstration Forest. The rain was coming down - mercilessly. We were cold. Coats were soaked through. Fingers were numb. Spirits were low.
As we biked along, I could feel the palpable lack of enthusiasm lingering in the damp air. Seven children, fourteen mini, soggy gloves; the discomfort was indisputable and yet nobody was complaining (...well, except for that one kid).
In an effort to lighten the mood and bring some distraction to the saturation, I started singing a few lines from a tune I had stuck in my head. One of the young boys turns his head around and asks what song I was singing. Not knowing the name of the song, I informed the 8-year old that it is a song by a cool feminist artist (Milck).
.....
Silence.
.....
"Do you know what that word means? Feminism." I ask.
"No."
So, I explain in 8-year old terminology. "Feminism is when you believe that women should have equal rights to men." Then, "Are you a feminist?" I ask him.
Instantly: "I don't think so."
I say nothing more. We continue riding. Pedaling under the canopy of the forest. The rain has now slightly subsided. Five minutes have passed. This child I had this interaction with has now pedalled his way towards the front of the pack, away from me as I bring up the rear. Next thing I know, a 20-inch wheeled bike and it's rider have turned around and are heading back towards me. I wondered where he was going.
"Okay, I do believe in it." he said.
It took me a moment to process just what this comment was in reference to. When I pieced it together, my heart was warm
He said nothing else. The idea that an 8-year old boy reflected for several minutes on the concept of Feminism and took a moral stance to believe in it. And the fact that he left his position at the front of our troop (among a group of competitive boys) to come inform me of this decision. My heart was full. I think our future is in good hands.
I maintain great optimism for what this future generation will do for gender equity, for disability rights, for reconciliation, for diversity and inclusion, for obliterating barriers, for smashing the glass ceiling, for anti-racism, for anti-homophobia, and for whatever else comes up that we don't even know about yet.
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