I didn’t sleep much. The baby was up most of the night. I got about 90 minutes of actual rest in the early dawn.
This morning was a blur of busyness. Getting diaper bags packed and ready for the kids so they could go to their caregiver for the day. We walk to the park in the mornings and we were running half an hour late, which meant being late getting back and likely no breakfast or shower for me, which was going to throw off many of my other plans for the day. I’ve already yelled at the dog. I’m mulling over my failings as a mom and wife. I try to rush through our walk to the park while also trying to problem solve our evening routine so morning would be less chaotic. I walk my kids to the park for my own mental health. I am sure you can imagine, this morning it isn’t quite hitting the mark. Like we’re missing the mark by a football field.
My son is a toddler who is very curious about the world. He loves to push the button at the crosswalk. He pushes. We cross.
When I turn around, he has run back to the button on the side of the street we just crossed to, ie new button. He is standing on the sidewalk by the light, pushing the button. This is one of those crosswalk lights that is just a warning that someone might cross and doesn’t have an actual stoplight or stop sign to it. If there isn’t a warning light flashing, drivers can continue down the street without a stop.
I am trying to get my son to come back to me when I notice a car stoped at the crosswalk. The driver is now furiously motioning at me. I am sure they are yelling too, which I can’t hear because they are in their car.
Here’s the thing. Now, I can see the situation from both sides. The driver probably had important places to be and this delay isn’t helping. They’re probably watching me and thinking what a crap mom I am for letting my son run back towards the street. That I should be paying better attention. They’re probably thinking what a clueless mess I am. Which I feel like anyways.
However, in the moment, their anger distracts me from the important figure; my son. Instead of calmly walking over to him and taking his hand, I lose what little grasp I still had on my cool. Now I am yelling at the driver rather than collecting the wandering toddler. My son eventually finishes pressing the crosswalk button and resumes his walk towards me. The driver speeds off, furious.
And the world has two more angry people in it.
Did I mention that I am a middle aged white woman and the driver was a middle aged black woman?
It would be so easy to turn this situation into a racial problem. That I was a self-entitled Karen who expected the world to cater to her. That the driver was a loud angry black woman who should mind her own business. But it doesn’t need to be that.
The reality was, the driver had a right to be concerned. My son could have easily run in front of their car. I should have paid more attention and stopped him. Or at the very least, anticipated his move and walk him to the crosswalk button safely.
On the other hand, I could have used a little mercy in that moment. I had a cranky infant strapped to my chest and a dog on a leash in my hand. I had very dutifully held my son’s hand as I crossed the street and was in the process of collecting him when I saw the driver.
I share this not to be blind to the impact of race on our experiences, but to highlight that sometimes a bad interaction is just that, a bad interaction. Two people who caught each other at the wrong moment.
So to the driver who stopped at the crosswalk for my son, thank you for stopping. This day could have been so much worse. I am sorry that we took up your time, and for losing my cool.
Maybe one day we will see each other in a better moment.
Jess Boctor 