Today was, by any standard of measurement, a beautiful summer day. Just over 80 degrees here in Minnie, low humidity, bright sunshine, a gentle breeze. And it was made even more perfect given the fact that I was enjoying a few stolen moments with my boyfriend at the fire station where he works. I was sitting out on the apron in front of the trucks, sneaking a few kisses when the other guys weren't looking, and letting sheer happiness settle inside of my heart.
Enter Jack Monkey, stage right. Because every story has an antagonist, right?
We had been watching the news and there was a story about a camp for kids to learn about the importance of bees. It filled with the usual gaggle of innocent children and cute sound bites, and to make conversation, I turned to the guy next to me (hereafter known as Jack Monkey) and jokingly asked him if he was next in line to go to Bee Camp. He smiled and replied that he had actually wanted to have an apiary and some chickens, but he and his wife have a small city lot and she said no. He smiled and described the scene at home: their 125-pound dog, two kids, and her trying to get everyone tucked into bed.
"I mean, she's a single mom right now since I'm at work, and she didn't even make any bad choices," Jack Monkey tells me, as if we're just talking about some as non-controversial as the color of the sky.
As I do when I'm caught completely off-guard, I tried to turn my hanging-open mouth into a semblance of a smile. "Oh," I replied sweetly, "well, I'm a single mom."
Of course, he stumbled and fumbled to recover his words, and I accepted his cover story about his sister who, evidently, made some "bad choices" and had kid(s?) out of wedlock. I smiled at his tall tale and swallowed the acid of his lies.
There are so many things wrong with his statement that, truly, I could write a book. But I'm going to settle for one single (see what I did there?!) point: stereotypes.
Jack Monkey has stereotype problems. Jack Monkey didn't know I was a single mom because I don't fit his mold: I'm suburban. For him, single moms are urban, impoverished, struggling. Single moms don't live in the suburbs, drive an SUV, or date firefighters.
But the other piece is this: no one would ever, in a million years, look at a single dad and say, "Well there's a guy who made some bad choices in his life." Because single dads get high fives. They get a "thanks for being a stand-up guy" award. A single dad walking down the sidewalk, pushing a stroller, gets ogled by young women as we marvel over the kind of person he must be. Life is graded on a curve for single dads. And as with so many other areas of life, women have to work twice as hard to get the same reward.
All of this is on a very macro level; I don't want to disparage my friends who truly are stand-up guys. And I am always grateful to my friends that support my single mom journey. It's likely that Jack Monkey is a nice person to the single moms in his life - because the odds are such that he probably knows at least a handful. But it's the overall negative societal point of view that allows Jack Monkey to make his sexist, racist statement and feel okay doing so in mixed company.
Senator Rick Santorum (R-PA), a former candidate for president of the United States, had this to say about single mothers:
"We are seeing the fabric of this country fall apart, and it's falling apart because of single moms."
So should we even be surprised when Joe Citizen, just a regular guy working as a line firefighter in the Midwest, pops off with some equally repellent comment? Vitriol from our public officials is having a distinct trickle-down effect, and I saw it before my own eyes tonight.
And honestly, what does it say about me that I smiled and dropped the topic? I'm sitting here, hours later, struggling with what my response should have been. I wish I would've popped off with any number of sharp comments, but I couldn't - these are the boyfriend's coworkers. Keeping the peace is part of the long term plan. And at the end of it: Jack Monkey's comments weren't personally directed at me. He took a swipe at my people, and I will find a way to fight back against his kind. In some ways, I take it as a win that I managed to hold my temper and bite my tongue. Jack Monkey may have won the battle, but he won't win the war.
This world is changing faster than any of us could have imagined 20 years ago. It's more and more okay to talk about who we are, what we are, where we came from. For me: I carry no shame in being a single mom. I have struggled, I've cried, I've fallen and I've had to come back kicking. My kids know that I'm a fighter, that I'm passionate, and that I have a fire for what I know to be true and right. I wouldn't want to parent in any other way.
So...hey you - hey Jack Monkey: challenge accepted.
