I opened my eyes and the room seemed way too bright. That was enough to send me into a tizzy as I live by “ If you are on time , you are already late”. Because nothing can be easy on a day were the goddess Fortuna has decreed you will be miserable, Finn was a grade A brat, and I was destined to leave the house frazzled with a screaming kid in tow.
“TE VOY A NALGUEAR!”
I am not an advocate of physical discipline. Some books say it is inhumane. What’s inhumane is the crap he puts me through. But I get it. I would very much rather reason with him and talk it out but sometimes you just see red, you look at the clock and back to that shit eating grin on his face while defiantly kicking the furniture and looking at you square in the eye. All symptoms are eerily similar to a panic attack but it’s merely a reaction to Kindergarchy.
-“Please brush your teeth.”
“NO.”
Sigh. Positive discipline alternated with threats. Everything is a fight.
Having left him at school I focused on what was next . Clear rubber bands, I needed clear rubber bands. I agreed to teach a flower arranging class and today’s work was “How to make a European Bouquet”. Rubber bands were of the essence. Still consumed with my thoughts as I was walking to my car, I met the eye of a fellow drop offer. I had seen her many times but we had never spoken. Today, of all days, we chatted. I discovered that behind that quiet face I have walked by on many occasions over the past two months is a woman that I relate to and whose conversation am I enthralled with. Having written her off as another plus one wifey in athleisure I am embarrassed to admit I had never bothered with her. On the drive over I thought of how many amazing women are out there that we are missing out on. So many points of view, so many stories and wisdom. Friend FOMO. I thought of how we do ourselves such a disservice by trying to remain separate when connection is so much better.
I looked at the screen and Waze was saying I would be at CISF ( stands for Center for Feminine Social Integration in Spanish) at 9:17 a.m. “ I’m good,” I thought..Today was my first day at work and my second time meeting Merci, who works for an NGO that does tremendous work in Centers were girls between the ages of 14 and 25 have been locked up. I am charmed by her lack of pretentiousness, her ethic and her authenticity. We taught the “Girls Club” class together and all the stigmas I had about gang member girls were crushed in one morning. The girls I taught have not given up, the girls I taught still, in some small place in those hearts that we all like to define as black and white, are hopeful.
After class Merci and I took an early lunch before our next class. When I sat down and checked my phone (which I was not allowed to have in Juvie Jail), my heart sank. A ton of missed calls already, from the same number. And another call coming in. My kid’s teacher. She explained in that Montessori Zen voice that she is at the hospital with my kid. Merci looked up after listening a bit and got the check. We put together an emergency plan for her to take a stab at the class alone while she reassured me it would be ok. I felt awful I couldn’t finish the day. I felt awful for the girls. I felt awful for my kid, sitting in some hospital without his mama to hold his hand- and me still being at least 35 minutes away from reaching him. That’s the thing about women, they really do need us everywhere.
Pedal to the metal is nothing. I zigzagged from Ilopango to Finn’s school, where they had taken him back after the hospital visit in what felt like an eternity but was really half an hour. I spoke to the teachers and could not believe my luck that I had entrusted my child’s education to two women that are so competent, and assertive and compassionate and amazing. Later, as I sat in the Pediatrician’s waiting room talking to Adriana recounting the events of the day we somehow manage to laugh. How great to have a friend.
Like in those movies where you see seemingly stray lives come together in some way as the plot develops , International Women’s Day this year was a day when I was inspired, taught and saved by very different women: Girls who did really bad things but keep trying even if society has given up on them, a potential new friend, a woman with a very simple heart of gold, two angels who take care of other’s children as if they were their own, and the treasure that is a true girlfriend. Exhausted to the almost point of tears, tucked in bed in men’s pajamas I think: It’s a good day to be a woman and to have so many amazing ones around me. And one last ironic thought strikes me : With all the shit we have to get done and be, the people we need to comfort, the kids we need to raise, the careers we have to juggle- these days you need a pair of balls to be a woman."
A belated happy day to all the women who toil and laugh and live and are amazing.
