For those of you that follow my blog...have no fear. I am not turning my camera in for a pen anytime soon.
{I'll throw some numbers pictures in to keep it real}
I will say that I'm always emotional here...my heart speaks with the pictures that I post, however I usually let my photos stand on their own.
Today though...I'm mad. Mad and sad.
tired of the {numb}ers game that has gotten so out of control.
In a world where we protect our children from nasty diseases with vaccinations to keep them safe, strap them into super safe cars and tell them to watch out for strangers...are we...am I..doing everything I can to keep them protected from a society that sells them DOUBLE ZERO jeans! As if zero wasn't sad enough.
I want to share a poem I wrote for my daughter years ago.
{about the same time I decided to be a photographer rather than a poet}
I remembered I had it the other day as I listened to my sweet friend describe with a broken heart what had just happened at her daughters well~child check.
Her vibrant, intelligent, caring little girl was told in grown up words that her number wasn't "right."
Just.like.that.
crushed.
I get it, the medical part...but this kid is healthy and absolutely wonderfully made. A doctor used a chart that measures BMI (Bad.Messed~up.Information) to try to explain how if they followed that chart..she'd be on the border of being too heavy!
Hell-o.
Puberty..dumb charts and metal scales..muscles?
And now...we can add to that weight, a very heavy heart.
Think before you speak.
Ten, tiny, perfect toes
perched on the edge
of a metal ledge
Large, brown eyes
stare ahead
at the numbers
that will tell her a lifetime of lies
She waits..
ten, tiny seconds
for the slide to stop
on her young girl...weight
WAIT!!!
For ten long seconds
my mind screams out...
Baby of mine
you sparkle and shine
you're so much more than a number.
spin on your toes
turn your back on the lies
your worth can not be measured.
A scale can't put numbers on all that you are
an old piece of metal can't go up that far.
I look at the nurse and speak from my heart...
here is where medicine and love
will part
Don't look at my daughter
and assign her a number,
speak her label out loud...
she's so full of life
and I want her to know...
it's not her number that makes me proud.
She's smart and she's funny
caring and brave
independent and honest
and that I must SAVE
For the world will measure her
the rest of her days
in numbers and letters
they will measure her ways
Soft brown waves
little freckled nose
Mommy will protect you
from what you need not know.
So for today
this nurse and I will have to disagree
as
I spin my child
on the metal stand
turn her around to face me
big brown eyes...
ten tiny toes...
in this moment
my love is all you need to know.