Yesterday, I met my friend, the nanny, we'll call her Sonia, and her little girl whom we'll call Sophie, at Pelham Public Library. They've been going their for a couple of years. I've just started venturing out beyond my zip code. As you will recall from previous posts, my experiences as a black mother, trying to find diverse, cultural and social activities for my twins to participate in has become a challenge-not only because of the race/class thing but because I'm shy and a tad insecure.
First of all-prior to having a car, the only place I could take the kids was the little library down the block from my house, which sadly pales in comparison when it comes to wealthier libraries in the 'burbs. Don't get me wrong. I love it. Still do. It provided an outlet for me and for them when the twins were babies. I will never forget heaving the boys up and down the hilly streets of my neighborhood in their double stroller, which as I look back on was good for me. It helped me get rid of a lot of baby fat rather quickly. It's also where I met Sonia and Sophie. The only white people at the library. I remember the first time Sophie came to story hour. She cried and cried. She was so shy. Now...she's the most sociable little girl you ever want to meet. I was expecting the same kind of transformation for the boys..and for myself as well. I wanted to break out of my shell and open up a bit-meet new people, have experiences. I admired Sonia for taking Sophie to libraries all across the city where she would meet people of all races and ethnic backgrounds, but I think it's easier for white people.
As I travel to places outside my zip code, I have to work to remind myself especially for the boys sake that I'm not inferior. I have every right to take advantage of free programs and opportunities as much as every other parent, and nanny in the library. who are taking advantage of free opportunities to enhance and improve their kids life and educational experiences-just like I am. We all want the same things.
As I've said, the boys are too young to pick up on the things I notice. The things I try to ignore like the fact that my kids are the only black kids in the library despite the fact that most of the women there, including me- are black.
"Awwww, Cute..." said the pretty lady with that frozen smile I've grown accustomed to. It didn't even come off as a compliment, she barely looked at the kids. At least she acknowledged us, unlike the guy cutting the grass, who ignored my son's jumping up and down excitedly, pointing and smiling at this strange machine he'd never seen before. If I hadn't called my son over, he would have run Noah over. He completely ignored us. I tried to smile at him, but he refused to make eye-contact.
Oh well...
So here we are, in this massive library, which looks like a museum, or an old mansion. I think I read somewhere it used to be a bank. It was an imposing place to be. For me anyway. The kids were in awe too, and they started running around and loudly expressing how impressed they were. I felt this was neither the time nor place for us to be conspicuous, so I ran to the librarian at the front desk, who was shooting the breeze, taking her sweet time to check out a patron while she saw me standing and waiting.
"Excuse me, where is children's story hour held?" She smiled. That is always reassuring.
"In the basement." Of course. I hate being conspicuous.
How do I get there? I have to go outside and then downstairs.
So we went outside. There they were: sistergirls, mothers, aunties- the nannies, exercising, cuddling, and cooing over their little ones. I must admit most of them were pretty friendly-even the one I met at the Pelham library yesterday who scolded me about the kids hair, and just about everything else the kids did, turned out to be pretty sympathetic when, as usual, I started to apologize for my failings as a parent.
"Take dem out. Tek dem to di park. Le' dem meet other chil'ren. Dem will talk, dem will play. You nuh need daycare. All dat is money wasted. I suppose that's true. I wish I had started this process a year earlier, but as you know-we didn't have a vehicle. Without it, I would never have been able to meet these people. Not to mention the fact that it's hard enough to take the kids out alone even with a car. Anyway, I digress...I was pleased that the nannies were so friendly.
So now we're in the basement again, It was intimidating. It was a theater. At first the boys seemed thrilled to be in such an interesting and different space. Zach ran towards the carpet in the middle of the floor and started running his car.
I tried to put Noah down, but again, he would have no part of it.. I considered sitting in the auditorium seats, because, well-even I was a bit intimidated by the set up, but I realized that if I'm going to teach the boys fearlessness, I have to lead by example so I walked to the center of the room and sat with them on the carpet. Noah was fine for a while. Until hordes of kids started piling into the auditorium.
I thought the woman in front of the theater, throwing books onto the floor might be the story teller, but I could be sure. I thought the little girl by her side might belong to her too, but there were so many other nannies and kids just hanging around you can never tell who belongs to whom. Finally, story time was about to start. Noah started to act up, Zach was roaming around. At least he wasn't crying.
The story teller began with a good morning and a few requests: \
"Parents or care-givers, when I start to tell the stories, if your kid wanders around, or starts crying can you please remove them..." O.k. I always take my kids out when they act up but her saying it irked me for some reason.
She continues:
" I have my own child here, and it's hard enough for me to take care of her and have to deal with all your kids too." She said some other things, but that's what struck me. She wasn't outright rude, but there was a hit of condescension and holier than thou parenting in her voice. It just made me uneasy and I assumed her comments were directed at me because my kids were among the first kids there and Zach was wandering around and Noah was whimpering.
She then went on to inform us that she "volunteered" at the library-as if to set herself apart in some way, letting us know that she didn't do this because she "had to," but because she wanted to. It just seemed cold to me.
And then to announce that your child is there-among all these other kids-who couldn't care less, was pretentious and unnecessary, She wasn't unfriendly, but she wasn't warm. She was like a cute little puppy that will let you pet it but it bites. I don't know. That's the image that came to mind.
Anyway...story hour progressed and I kept the kids with me in the auditorium seats because I didn't want to be embarrassed if she stopped story time and asked me to remove the kids-she seemed the type to do it, I felt bad about keeping them away from the other kids because the purpose of having them there is to socialize. Sonia helped me drag Zach and Noah to the dinosaur march, which Zach enjoyed and I might have, had Noah not been clinging to my neck. During the march I recognized a nanny from another library I take the boys to and we got to talking. She takes care of twins also. A boy and a girl, two years old-like my boys I've never seen these two act up. They gleefully participated in the dinosaur march, willfully danced, and didn't create-like my two. They caused quite a racket: squealing, stretching their little arms out for me to pick them up. I've never seen her twins act up like these guys always do.
I pleaded for her to tell me the secret, and she very sweetly told me that it takes time, I smiled. "Sure." C'mon, The boys and I've been at this for two years now. Noah still won't leave my lap. Granted I only had access to one library for the better part of a year so they've only started to interact with other people but still...I'm getting ready to put the kids in daycare and I worry nobody will want to take them if they continue to behave this way.
Story time has come to an end. We all get ready to leave and I'm behind my new nanny friend. There's a large crowd waiting to exit. Of course we take our time and exchange pleasantries with all the parents and caregivers while getting our little ones to walk up the stairs and exit the building. Of course, Noah who was fine walking a second ago starts to create. I mean, the kid is screaming, thrashing himself about, stretching his arms out, begging to be picked up and I, easily embarrassed, give in.
Obvious reason number 1) Crowd too large for me to leave him there and ignore him. I hate to be embarrassed.
Obvious reason number 2) I just want to get the hell outside. Did I mention I'm embarrassed?
Perhaps not so obvious reason number 3) Most of the nannies there are Caribbean. Like my mother, my grandmother, and auntie and other elders who surely expect me to be a better disciplinarian. I caught a couple of curt glances already- I can hear them admonishing me in my grandmother's gravelly patois,"mi pickney could neva carry on like dat..."
Well, I picked him up. I'm his mother. I can do what I want with my child. Look down on me if you want to. Go ahead and judge me. I think. I'm judging you too...at least my kids are here damn it!
In my head, I taunt them but what good does that do?
As soon as I have Noah in my arms. He let's out a little chuckle; the boy is smiling.
"It's not funny!" I fume. I'm exhausted, frustrated and humiliated.
My new nanny friend turns to me, her dark curls bouncing up and down as she helps her twins take wobbly steps up the stairs.
"It's funny for him, He won."
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