Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Vice and Virtues

Growing up in Catholic school, I heard a lot about virtues and vices and how the former were good and the latter bad. Catholic school is kind of like that, black and white, good and evil, smart and dumb, Catholic and other.

This is not an exaggeration, but simply how things worked, and what group you were lumped into: "good, smart, white, Catholic" or "bad, dumb, not-white, not-Catholic" pretty much sealed your fate in those hallowed halls. Thankfully, far before the plaid skirts of grade school changed to the grey skirts of high school, I realized life was a bit more complicated than this.

However, I still hold some internal judgments when I hear words such as "virtue" and "vice", which made the past few days quite interesting. Interesting indeed what with it being Pride (a biblical vice) and also time for the President's Stonewall Reception(where he counseled the queers, once again, to have patience (a biblical virtue).

Though not all aspects of Pride fill me with joy or make me proud, it does feel good to see other families like ours, and other kiddos like Baby Bear all assembled to celebrate their sameness and difference in a safe, accepting space. The realization that finding others like ourselves, and finding something in them (and therefore in ourselves) to be proud of is sometimes hard for a recovering Catholic brought up on a steady diet of guilt and, when that failed, humiliation.

But I was proud this weekend. I was in charge of the little one each morning, and got us out of the house and ready for the day each time with very little tears and a bag full of sunscreen and hats and cereal puffs and all other absolute necessities of life with a wee one.

And I was proud of the organizations and companies I have connections with, as they put their best faces forward for the world that walked by each day. But mostly, I was proud of our family, and the other families like us, pushing their strollers and loving each other just like all the other families around the world on a lovely late June weekend. There's not a thing that can tell me the pride I felt was somehow bad or shameful, because that doesn't make any sense at all, and never did, even in the days of plaid skirts and Peter Pan collars.

And what about the patience counseled by our President? I've got plenty to say about that too, but no energy to say it tonight. Tonight, I'm going to bed thinking how proud I am of my family, and every family like ours.

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