Dear John,
Here is a letter to you, my oldest son. I woke up this morning in this beautiful city that I have visited a handful of times now. The first time I came to DC you were with me. It was a family vacation: you, me, your little brother, and your dad. That was 15 years ago. Then we were tourists, now I feel I am to immerse myself in this city as a member of our nation. I want to share with you how different this city looks to me now.
I took the city bus in Washington DC this morning. You know that mode of transportation that you have rarely been on!?! As I rode along and watched the world around me I thought of you. The woman sitting next to me had a 19-month old little boy, his name was Michael. Michael is your middle name, which made me see you there with me. I thought of Michael on this city bus with all of his little toddler energy and I noticed that mommy was tired already. The day was just beginning. I thought of the difference in your trip around town and Michael’s trip.
You had a car seat that restrained you from being so active. Michael did not. He was up and down and down and up. It’s been a long time since you were 19 months old, but Michael seemed much like you, just a normal little active boy. Michael threw a grape across the isle. Mommy apologized and tried to pick it up but needless to say it rolled around the bus. I am sure that if you had thrown a grape in the backseat of our car I would have gotten around to picking it up at some point.
I feel that I must apologize to you for not teaching you the sociology of the city bus. You grew up in a city where public transportation is not readily accessible, although it is needed by many of our community members. We were privileged enough to have a car. Well, honestly we had two cars. Eventually you were of driving age and you were privileged to purchase a car. Don’t get me wrong…you worked very hard for that car. Naturally, not long after you got it the transmission went out and you had to have it repaired. I don’t remember the exact amount now but it was expensive, something to the tune of $1400. You worked hard to pay to have it fixed. Having said that, I am not so sure that car was in fact a privilege for you.
As the bus traveled along I noticed the older children on the bus. Did you know that the school-aged children in DC get to ride the bus and metro system for free? As well they should. These children knew each other. Some gave a high five as they got on, others a casual handshake. These children had some of the same worries and concerns that you did and you each had different apprehensions. I rode along and wondered how different your life would have been if you were to have ridden the city bus?
So here is what I have decided…although you are 29 it is never too late to offer an apology for my failures in your upbringing. I apologize that I did not show you a more diverse world. You have a wonderful, caring heart. You have ALWAYS been wise beyond your years. Although your trials and tribulations are yours, some of those challenges you have overcome do not know race, gender, or socioeconomic status. Use that knowledge to not only grow you but to clear a path for others that come on the trail behind you.
Today I gave a man a pair of shoes. Just as Michael and the older children on the city bus reminded me of you, so did the pair of shoes. The shoes were well worn. I wondered where they had been, but more importantly I wondered where they would go? Please, if I have not told you before…don’t hide from the world…it needs you…get out in it and make a difference. Your past is yours and who you are…share it!
I Love you,
Mom