Big has always been fascinated with his dad's job. Why wouldn't he be, his dad is a fireman and what's cooler to a little boy? He learned early on how to identify the parts of a firetruck and has always owned an abundance of firefighter related toys. However, it seems to have recently occurred to him that mommy has a job as well. The other night as I was tucking him in bed, he asked me about this. What is my job? Try explaining social work to a 3 year old. I went with -I help other mommies and their babies who need a safe place to stay. Now if you know Big than you already know that this was not at all a satisfactory answer to him. Where are their houses, why don't they have a house, where do they stay, what is a shelter look like, what would happen if they didn't stay at a shelter...and so on and so on. Now try to explain homelessness to a 3 year old. Try to do it in a way that is accurate and honest but not scary or threatening . It's not easy. I tried to explain the best I could that not all families have a place to live, that we are blessed that we do, that when you don't have a place to live you might stay in a place called a shelter where lots of families live together, that children that live in the shelter come to mommy's school and I try to help them find a new home.
This is a lot for a 3 year old to wrap their head around. But it's also a reminder of how blessed we are. The classrooms down the hall from my office are filled with 3 year olds wrapping their heads around so much more...what it feels like to share a tiny room with your entire family or to sleep on a mat on the floor surrounded by people you've never seen before...what it feels like to leave school for the day and know that you won't be able to eat again until you return the next day...what it feels like to own nothing, to have nowhere to call your own...what it feels like to know that something could happen tonight and you might not come back to school tomorrow, you might not live in the same place tomorrow...what it feels like to see people fight and yell and cuss in front of you...what it feels like to ride the bus for an hour to get to school, at 5 am...what it feels like to be dirty, with snot running down your nose, in mismatched clothes and know that people look the other way because no one wants to see that. Their is so much that I am thankful I do not have to expose my children to. But I do not want them to grow up in a bubble either. I want them to understand that their blessings are not to be taken for granted and that we are all responsible for each other as people. Try and explain that to a 3 year old.
By the end of our conversation Big told me that although he is still going to be a fireman when he grows up, he might also be a social worker when he isn't at the fire station. That seems like a decent start to me.
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