When we were first deciding to have children, I always hoped that my kids would be a little weird. Not negative weird - but unique. I hoped that each of them would pursue their passions with reckless abandon. I just hoped that they would feel comfortable enough in themselves, and loved enough by their family, that they would feel the freedom to find beauty in their lives.We live our lives in the Asheville area for a million positive reasons - not the least of which is that it is weird city, full of interesting people - who follow their own creativity. And my family appreciates it so much.
So, recently when Noah's teacher told me that "marches to the beat of his own drum," I was excited.
I believe in following your folly, dying your hair, listening to wildly diverse kinds of music, dressing in a way that expresses your personality, painting crazy pictures, and flying your freak flag as high as you want. Well, ol' Shel Silverstein said it better then I ever could, when he wrote:"Draw a crazy picture, write a nutty poem.
Sing a mumble-gumble song, whistle through your comb
Do a loony-goony dance, 'cross the kitchen floor.
Put something silly in the world that aint been there before."
So, when my kids choose checkerboard vans over brown shoes, or when they beg me to go see the giant chicken murals of Chicken Alley instead of a baseball game, or they enjoy Cinderella as much as Star Wars - I am proud. I hope that they hold tight to this level of comfort in their own skin. I hope that this world and (with its societal pressures of conformity) will not deter them from their path of passions.
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