Wednesday, February 17, 2010

I am my mothers daughter

My mother is a pretty amazing woman. If I ever am half as amazing as her, it will be a good day. Recently, a few examples of why she is so wonderful has surfaced.

1) Haiti
Last time I saw her, she was saying she wants to take a class in wilderness first responder. Why? So this summer, after the red cross and all other major relief teams check out of Haiti and we continue and economic policy that has put them in such a burdened social space, my mother hopes to go there and help. To go into the small villages, the rural areas where the Red Cross didn't touch and help people any way she can. People to people.

2) Pittsburgh
So, tomorrow, I head to Pittsburgh for my 3rd time, for my pre-trial. My mother has told me if no friends were able to accompany me, she would. But, her mother has been sick and she's had to take a lot of work off and can't go. So she suggests my brother goes with me.

Me: Wait, you mean Colin who without irony has an American flag hanging in his
living room?
Mom: Yes...
Me: To go with his little sister to court for protesting the G20?
Mom: hha... uhh... yeah.

After calling every other family member to see if someone could go with me (to no real avail), I (re)told her it really isn't a big deal. Just a meeting.

Mom: But someone should be there to support you.
Me: Yeah, I know you all support me. And this isn't even the trial.
Mom: But what if they do something crazy, like try to put you in prison for 7 years, someone should be there to stand up for you.
Me: ha, mom, I'm not going to prison, especially not on Friday. Worse case is a huge fine, and that won't happen until the real trial.
Mom: Ok. I feel guilty.
Me: Mom! You don't need to feel guilty, really, it's fine.
Mom: Ok, but I'll go to the trial. And I'll wear a shirt that says something.
Me: Ha, ok.
Mom: Like 'Leave my baby alone, you big meanie heads'
Me: Yeah, I think that will get the message across.

And then there are all the times, when I was growing up, that she subtly encouraged me to think. To actually think. Like when some kids at my school were wearing pro-life shirts (for pro-life day) and I told her that. She just asked, what do you think about that? Why? I didn't have an answer then, but I remember spending lots of time after that thinking about it.

Or when I was telling her that after a kick boxing class I saw some people doing jiu-jitsu, and it looked really cool. Do I want to try? Well, they're all men. So? Yeah I guess it doesn't matter. I can do that.

(my mother and I, circa summer 1987)

If I'm lucky, I'll be something like my mom.

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