It takes all kinds

Normal

When I was a little girl, my mom would tell me “it takes all kinds, Angela.  Could you imagine how boring this world would be if we were all the same?”  It’s a good lesson, right?  We can’t all be the same and we shouldn’t all want to be.  But when you are a small child, you just want to fit in.  Even as you get older, you want to fit in.  You want to meet the expectations of normalcy.  It doesn’t matter how many times we say “there is no such thing as ‘normal.’”  We don’t actually believe that.  Because we encounter images of “normal” everywhere we are.  In this culture, normal is a ball and a bat.  Normal is highlights and pricy makeup.  Normal is a two-story house with a yard and a dog and loud children. 

I told you that story, to tell you this story.  The other day on the way home from work, I heard that Miranda Lambert song on the radio.  It’s called “All kinds of kinds.”  And it made me think of what my mom said to me when I was little, about how the world needs all kinds.  And I was impressed.  A pop culture icon was addressing the importance of diversity.  And again, I thought, this is a good lesson.  This is a lesson I am trying to teach to my own child.  Then, I realized that the message was coming from a cute little bleach blond with fake boobs and a painted face.  You know, a “normal” girl. 

Is this still a lesson I want to teach my child?  The answer is yes.  And this is why…

Acceptance

Ever since I was little, I’ve heard my mom’s voice saying “It takes all kinds.”  I think that’s why I haven’t had a hard time accepting people as they are.  Because my parents taught me that everyone had a purpose and we should love all of the people who make their way into our lives.  And I hope that one day, Radley will hear my voice saying “It takes all kinds, Child.”  I already know that my little boy doesn’t discriminate against anyone.  Except himself.  He’s like his mommy that way.  While it’s easy for us to accept others and love everyone we meet, it’s just not that easy to accept ourselves.  That may be the problem with teaching our children that it “takes all kinds.”  Even though we are perpetuating values we think are important, many others may not be.  So, even though we can accept others for who and what they are, those others may not be able to accept us for who we are.   

Understanding

It took me a very long time to understand why I always felt so out of place…why I always felt so uncomfortable.  Like I was always being judged.  Thanks to my VERY EXPENSIVE therapist, I realized that these feelings of self-degradation came because I was judging myself.   So, I did as she suggested and performed all sorts cognitive and emotional exercises to help me help me get right with myself and feel better so I could be a better person, mother, friend, lover, daughter, employee, gardener, etc…I went back to my therapist and told her “I still feel like people are judging me.”  And she said “It’s because they are.” 

Uh…maybe you could have told me that $2,000 ago?  

Diversity

As pissed as I was.  I still listened as she explained.  She told me “People are judging you.  Because you are different.  You live a different lifestyle.  You live by yourself.  You are raising a child alone.  You work for what you have.  You are trying to find your place in the world, even though society thinks you should have already found it.”  Uh…No words.  After two years and thousands of dollars in therapy, I finally got validated.  Even though it was a victory, it was a failure, too.  I had been fighting to accept and understand others.  I had made it a priority to teach my own child those values.  I had made a conscious effort to do right by the universe, and still, the universe said “you just aren’t normal.  Bless your heart.”

It takes all kinds

Turns out, I’m fine with that.  What bothers me is that the universe will eventually tell my child that he isn’t “normal” either.  In fact it already has.  He doesn’t live in a home with two parents.  He doesn’t have any interest in sports.  He loves to draw.  He dropped an eff bomb on the playground…Not out of hate, or spite, or anger, but because I’m his mother.  And anyone who has met me knows that the eff word is going to make an appearance in every conversation.  Thus far, I have been fortunate enough that people appreciate my use of colorful language.  For the most part, so has Radley.  His teachers and administrators never reprimanded him, but the parents of his peers did.  And they absolutely judged me, too.  And I would love to sit here and destroy myself for being a terrible parent because my four year old used foul language.  But I’m not going to.  Because if that’s the worst word he’s articulated, then, I’m not too worried about it.    In fact, I’m proud of him for being comfortable enough to ask his friends “what the feck are you guys doing?”  It demonstrates a pretty rational thought process. Maybe I don't care about that because we aren't normal.  

Anyway, the point is this.  It takes all kinds.  As Miranda said “All kinds of kinds.”  It may be more uncomfortable for those of us who accept all kinds and still aren’t accepted.  But it’s not our kind that I worry about.  It’s the kind that doesn't know how to accept others. 

-Inner Peas