Who Teaches the Child?
I teach my daughter the world-
the one I had to unlearn myself-
not the one they try to sell her,
not the polished version,
not the quiet version,
not the version that tells her to stay
small and you’ll be safe.
I teach her the truth.
That the world will hand her rules
before she even learns her own name.
That some will use God
when it’s convenient-
to justify control,
to excuse harm,
to stay comfortable.
I tell her-
you are not something to control.
You are not a lesson in obedience.
You are not a story someone else gets to write.
You are the author.
I teach her about rights-
not the kind written in books that
people ignore when it doesn’t benefit them,
but the kind she carries in her chest.
The kind no one gets to take from her.
I tell her-
You get to choose.
Choose who you love.
Choose who you become.
Choose what you believe, even if it
makes people uncomfortable.
And when they say
the children,
the Bible,
this is how it’s always been-
pay attention.
Because not everything repeated is right.
Not everything taught is truth.
And not everything called “protection”
is actually meant to protect you.
I refuse to raise a child who
mistakes control for care.
I will not hand her silence and call it respect.
I will not teach her fear and call it faith-
and expect her not to question
what’s already broken, already bent.
I will teach her this-
If it feels wrong,
don’t learn to live with it.
If it sounds like control,
don’t try to fit in it.
You were not made
to shrink
to sit
to stay-
you were made
to speak
to choose
to walk your own way.
And if they tell you
be quiet
be good
just pray-
ask them why their God
needs your silence to stay.
Because truth doesn’t fear questions.
And justice doesn’t ask to be allowed.
So if the world tries to box you,
bend you, break you, erase-
remember this:
You don’t owe obedience
to a system built on your place.
You don’t owe comfort
to people protecting their space.
And you don’t owe silence to anything
that was never built for your
voice in the first place.
If your truth needs my child’s silence
then it was never truth to begin with.
Fight Like A Mother: A Celebration of Resistance and Resilience.
A Mother’s Day Poetry Collection