The Antidote
This morning Mason, my five-year-old grandson, greeted me with a mischievous grin as he tucked an unseen object into his pants pocket. “It’s an antidote,” he informed me.
It is June of 2020 in Minneapolis, and his world has been turned upside down. He has just finished his pre-school year learning remotely because of the Coronavirus. He misses his friends, especially Josie the girl he proposed to in front of the whole class back in January. A girl that he fully intends to marry.
Yesterday he overheard me telling a friend that my brother, who was diagnosed with Covid-19, was feeling much better. He looked up at me with shock and said, “ Your brother lived through corona?” We never suspected that he thought that every person who had the virus died.
Minneapolis, his town, has also been turned upside down as the city, and the world, has been responding to George Floyd’s death. He has driven past burned-out and boarded-up buildings, looking for an open gas station with the gauge showing 0 miles till empty on the family car. Oh, and did I mention that his mother is overdue with his third sibling? It’s a lot of stuff for a five-year-old to process.
He needs an antidote; the world needs an antidote. He created an antidote.
So, I wasn’t caught completely by surprise when the antidote made its appearance. The doorbell rang signaling a grocery order was being left on the front step. As I opened the door, I caught a look of disgust on the delivery person’s face. When I bent over to pick up the bags, I saw why. Sitting on the front step, along with the grocery bags, was a metal cup containing what appeared to be, a poop.
I’m sure that, to a five-year-old boy, creating a poop antidote and leaving it on the front steps was perfectly logical; magical even. I wish I knew what he was thinking as he created this antidote. Did the events rocking his world compel him to create it? Or was it simply a fun morning project? Why did he place it by the front door? More importantly what exactly was this suspicious antidote in the cup made from? A substance that I needed to dispose of. (Luckily, its main ingredient was brown paint.)
However, my intention isn’t to write about the virus that has hijacked all of our lives. It is about giving our kids space to create. Or, more explicitly, allowing them to be the naturally creative beings that they are.
The words of an old children’s song, The Bear went Over the Mountain floated into my memory today. I heard this song often when I was growing up.
The bear went over the mountain
The bear went over the mountain
The bear went over the mountain
To see what he could see…
The other side of the mountain
The other side of the mountain
The other side of the mountain
Was ALL that he could see
Was ALL that he could see
Was ALL that he could see
The other side of the mountain was All that he could see.
I haven’t thought of this song in decades, but when it came to mind this morning I realized that it is a game over kind of song. Its message ignores a world filled with possibilities and creativity. The song tells us not to bother venturing out into unknown and uncharted territories. It tells us that there is nothing worth exploring beyond what we see in front of us.
I’m not saying that hearing this song will automatically halt a child’s creativity. However, what I know to be true is that words have power, words can seep into the psyche, reinforcing messages that a child might be picking up on from her family, school, or society in general.
Do we want to send our kids a message that, after the exhilarating thrill of climbing a mountain, the only thing that they will see is the other side of the mountain? Or do we want to send them the message that even a single leaf from the other side of that mountain is a whole world onto itself, a marvel that can be a source of hours of fascination and inspiration? That the other side of the mountain can be a jumping-off point rather than the end of journey.
Thankfully, attitudes have shifted some since this song was written, but if you look on YouTube you can still find a video of someone singing it.
Personally, I would like to change the words to:
And ALL that he could see.
And ALL that she could see.
Was a wonder-filled side of the mountain.
A wonder-filled side of the mountain.
A wonder-filled side of the mountain.
Was ALL that she could see.
(Another mountain filled with POSSIBILITIES!)
My heart is filled with the wonder that Mason believes that he can create an antidote for a virus, for societal unrest, or a salve for missing his mother who is in the hospital today bringing a new creative being into a world of possibilities.
With Love & Healing Energy by the Pond,
Laurel
