I am a Mom-Barracuda: most people who know me know this. I am a gentle, soft spoken yet firm barracuda and there is no mistaking me.
This doesn’t only hold true for my children, it extends to children I encounter everywhere.
This weekend it extended to goslings, on Mother’s Day no less.
I don’t fancy crowded restaurants on Mother’s Day, I would rather visit a park and hang out with ducks at my favorite local pond. One year, the ducks were so satiated we just gave up and played apples to apples which was fun in a different way.
This year the pond was a men’s club. There was not a single female wood duck in sight. There were, however, several Canadian Geese families, complete with fluffy sweet goslings. I had never seen goslings before, so this was quite a treat.
Two adult women and an adult male sat on the edge of the pond fairly close to me along with two goslings. Four human children came close and started to harass the geese. My children saw it coming: I leaped from the picnic table to talk to the children. “Are you going to go yell at them?” and I said, over my shoulder, “No, I’m going to teach them.”
I walked toward them, speaking the whole way, “Now, now, those are babies, leave the babies alone!”
“These ducks are mean,” a little boy of about three-years-old said.
“They are geese, and yes, sometimes geese are scary but in this case, they’re just protecting their babies, just like your Mommy protected you when you were a baby.”
Big brown eyes looked up at me, seeming to understand a little bit better. “Those are Canadian geese,” I continued, “and the big white geese around here are sometimes meaner but these geese are usually quiet and kind.”
“They’re mean.”
“There are also some ducks here that look like that who are really nice. They look kind of like turkeys and are called Muscovy ducks. They’re very nice and friendly, but you need to treat them with gentleness and never chase them, just stand very still and they’ll want to get to know you.”
I asked the children if they wanted to try feeding the geese. I went to get some bread for them to experiment. When I returned, the little boy said, “Are you a stranger?” An older boy had joined us and I gave him some bread, too, because he was completely fascinated with the way the geese were responding to us.
The stranger discussion was a tougher discussion than the gosling discussion.
I gave the children space to get to know the geese on their own and felt satisfied that maybe - just maybe - they will remember not all ducks or geese are the same and Mommy ducks and Baby ducks - and all animal babies - need space and love and care.
I hope these children remember this conversation. I know I will.
The question, "Are you a stranger?" is one I will continue to ask myself. I randomly talk to people all the time - to me very few qualify as "a stranger".
How do you define "stranger" for children? What discussions have you had about this topic with them?
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Julie Jordan Scott is a writer, creative life coach, speaker, performance poet, Mommy and mixed-media artist whose Writing Camps and Writing Playgrounds permanently transform people's creative lives. Watch for the announcement of new programs coming Spring, 2014 and beyond.
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