“Waaaaaaaaah!!!”
Needle-like, piercing the veil of sleep, the shattered shards of the shrill wail coming from the floor below caused reality to come bleeding into stark consciousness, ejecting him from his dreams of another world, another time, another self.
What the fuck is going on?! His primal instincts honed through millions of years of evolution went into high alert the moment he was brought back online. His mind quickly made sense of the situation from the sonic cues. It was 2 year old Sonya, his brother’s daughter. He would recognize the sound of her voice anywhere, and whenever he heard that particular pitch his heart would tense, caving into itself a little.
The sound of commercialized pop music was blaring, attempting to drown out the sound, but unable to mask the shrill and intense tone of anguish. Amidst the bubbly warbles of electronic sounds and 4/4 bass tones, her wail was different then usual. It was morning, and as usual, she had been dropped off by the drone service to stay with his mother and father while Sonya’s parents went to the local VR factory to design and manufacture the newest circuit modules for the upcoming CES event in Taipei. They’d been working longer and longer hours recently as the date of the show quickly approached, and next year’s designs were getting the final R&D touch.
His parents were the conservative type. First-generation immigrants who still had a bit of the old country twang in their voices, and a lot of the values in their perspective. This wasn’t the first time he had been woken up by Sonya’s crying after she had been dropped off, but this was a whole-new octave even for her.
The cold air attacked his bare skin and he quickly pulled the covers off his body and got out of bed, the warm, fuzzy cocoon he had nestled within the night before ripped and invaded by the rushing thermal difference. He put on a pair of grey cotton sweatpants, light green jersey tee, and a thin cotton sweater pulled from the mess of clothes strewn around the room. He gave them a quick sniff, hmmmm passable enough, I’ll be able to wear them a few more times before washing.
“Stop crying!” he heard a voice say.
Oh, come on, Mom. How can you tell them to stop crying and reject their emotional experience? Don’t you know you’re teaching her to repress her feelings? He let out a quiet sigh. He had to get down there quick and help alleviate the situation by providing his niece support during this time.
He headed downstairs, the sounds of the television, the cries, and the angry and upset demands, co-mingling into a suburban jungle cacophony of primates, jingles, and emotions attempting to upend and sweep him away.
There they were in the living room. Grandma was firmly holding Sonya by the arms and raising her voice over the crying child, telling her to stop.
“Stop! Do you want to be in time out?!” she said sternly.
And yet, Sonya continued, as children will, able to become fully engrossed in whatever emotion or feeling they are experiencing within the present moment.
“What is going on? Why is she crying?” he asked with a look of concern.
“Go away! She’s being punished!” both grandpa and grandma shooed him away with their hands as Sonya continued on her tirade, looking for comfort.
“You don’t hit people! No, you hit grandpa! Say sorry, you want time out?! Stop crying, you don’t hit!” yelled grandma angrily.
Sonya continued to cry.
His heart reached out to her, hoping that in some way his presence was able to assuage the situation. He found himself in an indecisive situation. How does one act when they know someone has done wrong, the punishment is justified, but the application of justice and forgiveness feels wrong too? He felt helpless and a victim of choice as he curled up into a ball on the couch, sad and ashamed to bear silent witness to this scene.
Sonya turned and attempted to move away.
“Where do you think you’re going?” prodded grandma.
Sonya pointed to his direction.
“No! You don’t go to uncle! You’re in timeout! Now say you’re sorry!” grandma stated.
Sonya began to cry again with renewed fervor, the shrillness rising an octave that he would’ve thought able to shatter glass.
In these moments, he remembered his own childhood, and the pain of being yelled by his parents. He believed there was a different way for children to understand the lessons of life, where they aren’t told something is wrong. Instead, they are shown a different way to approach things, or given explanations that help them to understand why it is currently being forbidden.
When a person is simply told they are not to do something without any explanation or recourse, it stifles the opportunity for learning and open dialogue. What is better for a child to learn and embody in the long-term, obedient behavior or creative empathy? He laid there curled in a ball, floating around in the ether of his mind, as her crying began to lose steam.
And then, as if a reset button had been reset, she had stopped and was smiling. She had moved on from the situation and was ready to do something else. He wished his parents would do more with this moment than simply force feed her a buffet of streaming children’s videos and hydroponic apples and individually-sealed packets of glugurt. It was common knowledge that glugurt was just sythentic glucose with nano food coloring and synthesized flavor that was meant more to hook a consumer than to provide sustenance. It was obvious his grandparents had come to a time in their life where it was easier to distract a child than personally engage a child, as they grew less energetic with age.
He finally made eye contact with Sonya and smiled, sitting up and unfurling his body and arms. She rushed to him and he picked her up in his arms. He pulled her in and gave her a hug, swallowing her up in his arms and cradling her with all the love and feelings of warmth he was able to muster. He loved her with all his heart, in a way that was similar and yet different to any love he had experienced before.He only wanted the best for her, and didn’t want to stand in the way of her growth by imposing strict rules and punishments. He knew how poorly those things had worked on him, and the struggles it presented him throughout his life.
A new life like hers, as sensitive and impressionable as it is, should not be made to learn behavior in that way. His hope was that he would be a beacon of light to her whenever she might feel completely alone. He wanted to simply be a safe haven she could always turn to that would accept her, guide her, help her, encourage her, and always be truthful to her throughout her life’s journey of exploration and growth. He promised himself that he would always do his best to give her those intangible things that are also the most precious.
Holding her in his arms, he was glad that he had awoken so that he was able to hold her in this way, reinforcing the promise of always being a gentle wave to move her vessel along the path of her own choosing while weathering turbulent storms.