alpha editorial

the semester's almost over, and for that i'm grateful. no more maps, analyses, or whatever for at least a little while. i do get to celebrate winning the alpha editorial competition, and having my discriminatory experience at the planetarium made known to other folks.

if you're interested, here's a sneak peak at the essay.


Have you ever noticed that families are not welcome to attend many
public events? I experienced that feeling when my young son and I were
asked to leave the Daniel Soref Planetarium.

All day, we talked about stars. I recalled how much I'd loved going to
the planetarium at as a child, and was thrilled to have the
opportunity to share that experience with Samadhi. He loves the night
sky, and often shrieks "Moon, mama! Moon!" when we're reading his
favorite stories. Why not show him something really special?

The weekly show was focused on the northern lights and would only run
a few more times. We could look out at the stars any time, but in my
22 years of life, I've only seen the Aurora Borealis once. This was
something that would dazzle the socks off this kid.

We arrived at the planetarium 15 minutes early, purchased our tickets,
and prepared for our adventure. I talked to Samadhi about the
constellations, and we sang "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." My
excitement mounted, I held my son's hand as we stepped into the
auditorium.

Before I could sit down, a woman approached me. "Excuse me, but you'll
need to sit toward the front with him. By the exit." My heart sank. I
knew exactly where this was going. Suddenly, we weren't just
customers; we were the pink elephant in the room. Everyone whispered
and pointed to us, What's that baby doing trying to look at our stars?
I grudgingly took Samadhi to the front, and we plopped into the only
straight-backed folding chairs in a sea of slightly tilted, padded
theatre seats.

I felt second class, as if I were being punished because I was a mom
who wanted to take my kid out to an event that wasn't baby-centric.
Just once, I wanted to spend a Friday night with my son free of giant
commercial puppets trying to overtake my home with unnecessarily
noisy, expensive, junk.

This did not sit well. I was upset about being singled out, and
Samadhi felt it. He became restless, and naturally began to misbehave.
The same woman turned to us and said loudly, "I'm sorry, this just
isn't working." We were escorted out before the show ever began.

Most people would say, "He's a toddler, they can't sit still for long
periods." My son sat through an entire performance of Joseph and the
Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat and didn't make a peep. Assuming he
wouldn't be able to handle an experience like this was unfair, and
singling us out added insult to injury. As we left, Samadhi asked,
"What happened to stars, mama?" How do you explain to a little one
why they are being left out?

It's time to acknowledge children as a part of our society, instead of
politely banning them from events. These exclusionary practices aren't
working. Our children should share in our lives, and be welcome to
experience wonder alongside adults to learn how the world works
firsthand.