$102

We have good friends who have a nineteen-year-old son who, up until three years ago, was a she.  Much went behind that decision being made and much more needed to be done to move forward with his life-changing choice.   As Keaton, he was accepted and supported by family and friends we were happy knowing he was who he believed he was ever since Kindergarten. 

Our friends no longer live here but we keep in touch from time to time.  This past week they put up a Go Fund Me page with a message:  Keaton was scheduled to have his top surgery, a decision supported by his doctors, and they had scheduled for some time.   The family of five, supported by a single working parent, had unfortunately had been hit with COVID-19 cutbacks with the father losing his job.  They had saved up for the costly surgery, a non-trivial cost for them, and they wanted everyone to know they were going through with the surgery regardless, but spending their savings now, while on unemployment and with an unknown future, was a scary thing. 

My husband and I were talking about how much to contribute when my daughter walked in.   I decided to ask her if she wanted to help Keaton out.   I said it was a surgery he needed to have to help him continue to live life as a male.   She thought about it and said she wanted to donate $25 dollars.  

I went upstairs to talk to my son and told him the same, very short, story.   My son didn’t ask why.   He didn’t ask how.   He only asked how much money he had saved.   I looked on the app that lists how much each child has to spend and told my son he had $102 dollars.   He thought very briefly and then said, “then I want to give Keaton a hundred dollars.” 

I burst into tears.   My son hugged me and told me not to cry.   I told him I knew he hated it when I said I was proud of him but I really was so very proud of him for wanting to spend all his saved money to help Keaton.   He said, “it’s important to Keaton and I want to help.”  

My husband and I discussed it and we decided to let me son donate that hundred dollars but that we were only going to take fifty out of his savings and we would match the rest.   We wanted to be sure the children got credit for helping their friend out too, so we have three donations on Keaton’s page: one for each child and one for my husband and me.   

Sometimes children make you want to pull your hair out and scream.   And then other times they go and do something so wonderful—spending their saved money they hoard and count and want to spend on things for themselves—that it reminds you why you wanted to be a parent in the first place. 

The Big Boy Update:  Tonight on the school board meeting call we talked at length about equity.   We talked about so many different facets of what equity means to the school and how we hope to implement it.   At the end of the call after the executive committee session was over I asked if I could close with a story about equity.   I said that as much as it was important for us to believe in equity, define it, implement initiatives to achieve it and espouse it, we also wanted to pass on those beliefs to the children at the school.   Then I told the story about my son.   I said I wasn’t going to cry, but I couldn’t manage it and did so at the end of the story.   I hope we have raised our children to believe that people are equal.   We try to emulate those beliefs and I know the teachers and staff share those values.   My crying aside, they said it was a powerful a story to end the board meeting on.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter now has a yellow cast.   It is an uncommon color to pick, but my daughter is an uncommon little lady.   She wore her new pink heart glasses and her pink hearts mask and only said ouch a few times when the doctor had to squeeze the cast tightly so it would harden up around the break area.   The bones have knitted very well so far.   Four weeks in a cast and she’ll be back to swinging on the swings at full tilt again.