A couple weeks ago, I decided to walk around downtown with Niko. Niko loves crowds. In densely populated spaces, like the bus, the airport, or the streets of downtown, her eyes brighten, her body straightens in alert attentiveness, even her neck is visible for brief moments. So I took her for a casual stroll through downtown, a fun mother/daughter walk.
On this afternoon, the streets contained the quiet excitement of people shopping the New Year sales. The murmur of enthusiastic conversations was heard in the cadence of different languages. I stopped at a street bench to give Niko a feeding. I shared a bench with a woman. I didn't really pay any attention to her but I felt the familiar weight of inquisitive stranger eyes on us.
"How did your daughter get blonde hair?"
I looked up and answered, "My husband's mother is blonde." I didn't think that a complete stranger needed the full I-Cell education.
She looked dissatisfied. She twisted her lips, "Hmmm…." I can tell she wasn't going to let that simple answer stop this curious conversation. She looked at me as if to say, "Come on lady, what else have you got for me?"
Oh should I have said this? "You mean you haven't heard of I-Cell Disease. I-Cell children usually have fair skin and light hair despite parent colouring."
Instead she asked me, "Have you heard of [something-something-sia]?" I wish I can remember the term she used. I'd look it up.
"No, what is that?"
"It's a condition where a pregnant mother, under extreme stress, can cause birth defects. Because your daughter looks like she's got down syndrome."
Um ok, not only are you suggesting that this was potentially all my fault, but it was entirely preventable?!!
"No she doesn't have down syndrome. She has another disease."
"What does she have?"
"It's called I-Cell."
"Who told you that?"
"The geneticists at Kaiser. We've also received DNA test results from the leading lab in this country." Why am I even bothering with this explanation?
She gave me this incredulous face, raised eyebrows, twisted lips, narrowing of the eyes. "Oh Kaiser told you that, huh? That she's got what? I-Cell? Uh huh. So what does this disease do?"
"It prevents her body from growing."
"They told you that, huh?"…...
What the? I couldn't tell if I was furious or elated that someone could be so bold and direct about this line of questioning. The conversation carried on for another few minutes. But I stopped paying attention to the conversation. Rather, I became more interested in her appearance. She had on a cheetah faux fur coat, black velvet leggings, and dazzling glittery ugg boots. I worked my way back up to her face. Since she was inspecting Niko, I figured it was fair game to apply scrutiny to her appearance. Her head was topped by a pair of blingy Chanel sunglasses, her lips were painted crimson red. When she spoke, I envisioned a pair of red twizzler vines swirling, turning and twisting until they were tied in knots. Her eyes were lined in thick black, and her cheeks wore diagonal lines of bright fuchsia, as if she painted her rouge on with sidewalk chalk. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, though she spoke with the directness of someone in her late eighties. I secretly admired her loud look, her unapologetic presence, her hutzpah for imposing herself on a complete stranger without the fear of projecting insult.
I then realized how refreshing this conversation was. She was curious about Niko and she asked me direct questions without shame from her nor expecting shame from me. So many people throw sideway glances and dodge my eyes. The minute they detect that I've shifted my guarding eyes, they sneak more peeks at Niko. Sometimes I want to ask them, "Can I help you? Do you have any questions?" But I like to avoid awkward moments. It is what we have learned from being a part of a civilized society.
This woman threw out common courtesy. Her appearance suggested a bold and perhaps prickly personality. But I prefer unabashed curiosity over sneaking glances, as if looking at Niko is wrong and shameful.
Here we have Niko pounding away at Mila's old baby piano. This girl carries no shame. So I would love to be in a world where people are not ashamed to look at her. After all, she brings joy to all those who truly look at her.
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