The fog that permeates the mind of a new mother is real. Before
the birth of my daughter three months ago, catching a flight required next to
no energy. Cruising through security in
time to get a cup of coffee before boarding the plane was perhaps my greatest
challenge. My luggage and my life felt
streamlined and organized. The plight of
new mothers juggling bags of bottles and diapers, doll-sized pajamas and
blankets, were simply not on the radar.
But things have changed. Today I am lucky if I get to the airport having
taken a shower in the last three days. The adage is true: parenting is all joy
and no fun.
Today as I sit in my office a million miles away from all
that is manicured and fashionable, I am thinking of Valarie Kaur, a new mother
like me and a fellow faith leader who was at the airport yesterday preparing to
return home in time to celebrate her son’s 1st birthday. As she was organizing the many trappings of
motherhood she innocently pulled a tag off the bag carrying her breast
pump. This small gesture alarmed a
nearby passenger who after scanning the lovely, brown-skinned woman, angrily
asked what had prompted such a move. More passengers got involved as did a gate
agent who demanded she open the bag and prove that she was carrying a breast
pump. The air was thick with suspicion and
fear and though no one uttered the word, terrorist
filled the thoughts of those involved.
Fear is a powerful thing. I am a Presbyterian Minister and in our faith tradition we are
celebrating the season of Advent. In these four weeks leading up to
Christmas we are preparing our hearts by telling stories connected to the birth
of Jesus. In many of these narratives
found early in the Gospels, we find a divine command: do not fear. Why is this command given over and over
again? I believe it is because fear makes us the most miserable version of
ourselves. Fear is like a disease that eats away at a person before being passed
along to others, transforming them into shadows of their once-bright selves. Fear
has the capacity to so transform hearts and minds, that new mothers become
suspects. Bags carrying supplies that help feed small babies are transformed into
a security threat. Long, dark hair accompanying a brown-skinned woman becomes a
sign of danger. In the United States
today, fear is transforming our Muslim and Sikh brothers and sisters into
enemies. I have had fellow Christians
ask me recently, voices full of apprehension, “Have you studied the Qur’an? Do you know what is in there?” I reply, “No.
I am a Christian. I study the Bible. Do you know what is in there?”
Now is the time for those of us who are not profiled as
terrorists to raise our voices against foolish stereotypes that breed fear and
mistrust. Now is the time for open conversation among followers of all faith
traditions as we attempt to address social ills together. And now is the time for this new mama to say
to another new mama: I am sorry. I am
sorry for what happened to you yesterday as you prepared to celebrate the first
birthday of your little boy. I promise I will do what I can to raise a daughter
who will not fear your son, but embrace him, learn from him, and delight in
this good world alongside him.
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