Last night as Steve was getting Autumn ready for bed he noticed that she had been writing in her notebook. The page was filled with words and looking over her shoulder, trying to make out the scribbles, he asked her what she had been writing about.
"Nothing" she said.
It was then that he noticed the two words she had written in the bottom left hand corner of the page.
"Ugle Autumn"
He looked at her, stunned, and asked Autumn why she had written that she was ugly? "I don't like the way my face looks" she replied. "Someone at school made fun of my name and it made me feel ugly".
Steve immediately went into damage control telling Autumn, as only a Daddy can, that she is the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. He explained to her why we chose her name and the significance of the middle name we gave her. He explained to her that sometimes kids, and even adults, say mean things and hurt people's feelings but that she has to remember that she is beautiful on the outside, and, even more importantly, on the inside. Then he tucked her into bed for the night.
When Steve walked up to me, later that night, with Autumn's notebook I thought he was going to show me a cute drawing that she did or point out the impressive use of color in her landscapes. When he pointed to those two words in the bottom left hand corner I felt my breath catch in my throat. Then the tears stung at my eyes.
A wave of guilt swept over me. Do I not affirm her enough? Does she hear me complaining about the way I look? I couldn't stand the thought of her feeling "less then". I wanted to run into her room, wake her up, and recite that line from "The Help" over and over again. "You is Kind, You is Smart, You is Important."
But I didn't.
I went to bed where I tossed and turned the whole night. I couldn't stop thinking about those two little words. Ugle Autumn. I closed my eyes and saw them written on the page in her first grade scribble.
I waited until I had picked her up after school to broach the subject with her myself. We talked about many of the same things she had with her Dad. I told her how beautiful I think she is, but that it's more important for her to think that she is. I told her that it isn't just her soft golden hair, blue eyes, or cheesy grin that make her pretty - it's the way she treats people and makes others feel. Those things are much more important then the way you look. We also talked about the way she felt when someone at school made fun of her name and how important it is to not make anyone else feel that way.
I don't know if I said all of the right things. I don't know if I was able to fill that little crack with plaster and keep it from growing. But I do know that this parenting gig isn't getting any easier.
First grade is the first time Autumn felt ugly. I may not remember when it was for me but I will always remember that it was first grade for her.
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