26 February 09

A week of eavesdropping

I have this imperative need to eavesdrop on other’s conversations. I think it would have made me a great journalist, or a good writer. Someday, maybe. Until then, I try to keep it under wraps and I’m glad that I’ve gotten (marginally) more subtle while eavesdropping. Here are three conversations that I heard in the last week that I found fascinating.

Scene 1
Setting: Target Cafe
Characters: Mother (mid-50s), Daughter (4-17)
These two were sitting directly to my left so I couldn’t look at them without it being obvious that I was eavesdropping. I think I successfully resisted the urge to watch as this mother began telling her daughter that she remembered what it was like to be a teenager who had been dating the same person for a long period of time. She wanted her daughter to know that even though she didn’t expect her to tell her mother everything, she did want her daughter to remember that her aunt was a nurse who had “seen just about everything” and she’d be able to help her with any questions, concerns, fears, etc. that she may have. The daughter said “Mom, I know, I know” a lot during the conversation. The mother said “I remember what it was like” a lot. In my honest opinion, the daughter likely knew far more about ahem intercourse than her mother would have liked or would have been happy with. But I’m hopeful that the daughter really would talk with the aunt.

Scene 2
After the mother and daughter left I was able to read for a little while until a father and son arrived. They sat directly in front of me and the son (aged 4-5ish) was facing me. I felt totally comfortable slyly watching the son during the entire conversation. During this talk the father wanted his son to know (over Icees and popcorn) that mom was in the hospital but she’d be okay. They’d be able to visit her in a few days, but mom would have to stay in the hospital for at least a week or two. But he didn’t want the son to be scared because Mom wasn’t going to be hooked up to machines like grandpa was. And he wanted his son to know that it wasn’t his fault that mommy was in the hospital, nor was it the fault of The Baby. The son asked what was wrong and the dad said that Mom just had some problems in her brain but that they were giving her medication and as soon as they got the medication right, Mom could come home. “Ah, so Mommy’s brain is broken, kinda like how grandpa’s heart was broken?” (my favorite line of the conversation). “Kinda, yeah.” The son really asked his father some great and tough questions and the father did a very admirable job of answering his son’s questions in a manner that was appropriate for a young kid. But it seemed clear from their talk that mom was likely going through some post-partum depression. Talk of The Baby came up a lot. And, the horrible rebel in my soul, was so proud of the boy for pushing his dad to answer his questions fully and expound on the information he was giving out. It was great to get a window in how this kid’s brain worked.

And lest you think I only eavesdrop at Target, I can assure you that isn’t true. One day I was downtown running some errands and enjoying being “in the city”. As I was walking down the street, I saw a blond girl (aged 8 or so) get out of a cab. She had Down’s Syndrome, was holding a blond American Girl doll and she was sobbing inconsolably. Painfully, gut-wrenching sobs and wails that could be heard a block away. I heard this girl crying long before I could see who was crying. And I got closer as the mother got out of the cab with a few shopping bags and began to steer her daughter toward the door of a hotel. But before they went inside, I heard the daughter say “You told me they would have dolls that looked like me. You told me they had dolls that looked like everyone. But they didn’t have any dolls that looked like me.”

And my heart shattered. Completely and utterly broken. My eyes filled with tears, I got that pinchy, stingy feeling in my nose and I caught the mother’s eyes. She quickly looked away, but I wanted so badly to think of anything to tell the little girl to make her feel better. And there was nothing I could say, there was nothing to be said, there was no consolation that could happen. Wanting a doll that looks like you is an understandable urge, even if I never experienced it. But watching this girl’s heartbreak play out in front of me made me realize that my urge to have my name on signs, stickers, keychains, pencils, etc. was like nothing compared to wanting to see your face mirrored back to you. If I had the skills, I’d make a doll that would look like that little girl, just to know that I’ve done something to try to help someone.

Comments

  1. Oh! My heart is broken to pieces for that little girl!

    — amyc on Feb 26, 09:34 pm

  2. wow, I never get anything like that when I hang in Target. And omg, i’m freaking speechless for that lil girl.

    — veronica on Feb 27, 12:40 am

  3. oh dude. wow.

    — carolyn on Feb 27, 10:23 am

  4. Wow, tears just sprung to my eyes after that….

    — Munkeyhed on Feb 27, 04:54 pm

  5. Oh, that poor little girl. I can only imagine her sadness and frustration.

    I just did a quick Google search and found out that there are companies making dolls with Down Syndrome features. There’s an interesting article from the Daily Mail about the pros and cons of each here:
    http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1032600/Parents-fury-Downs-Syndrome-dolls-designed-help-children-deal-disability.html

    From the woman who created a line of dolls with Down Syndrome:

    “Our society today is hung up on perfection and when a child with Down’s syndrome picks up a regular doll, they don’t see themselves. I’ve heard so many people say ‘They don’t know the difference,’ but they do.

    “We are not trying to promote the difference, we are trying to promote their beauty and let them know they may have different features, but inside they are still the same. They have the same hopes and dreams.”

    Hopefully that mom you saw will do a search online and find a doll that will make her daughter happy and proud of who she is.

    — eee on Mar 3, 08:56 am

  6. Thanks, Ellen. I love that these dolls exist and I think they go a long way toward normalizing disabilities. I think the doll could be a bit cuter, but its early in the development of things like this so I can only imagine they’ll get better with more feedback from parents. Thanks for doing some research.

    — Cinnamon on Mar 3, 09:30 am

Commenting is closed for this article.

  ·  


(c) Cinnamon Cooper / Poise.cc