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Tell Me Something Good

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Court Stevens

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“Good parents know when "Go away" means "Hug me." They barge through the door, through the noise, through the pain, and say, "I know you're hurting. I want to help." They keep coming back. Even when they're being pushed away. Good parents also miss big moments, huge moments, with their kids. They're staring at their phone or wrapped up in their jobs or just ignorant about emotional intelligence. Sometimes they're scared to help because their own hurt is a lump in their float. And they end up drowning in guilt for not being superhuman. What's a good parent? It's just so hard to know. It's especially hard that day in Roseville, New Jersey. But maybe, just maybe, we should root for this mom to be braver than she normally is.”

“There is a peculiar phenomenon I’ve observed repeatedly: people who cause measurable harm often become more offended by the discussion of that harm than by the harm itself. What unsettles them is not the damage they created — it’s the loss of narrative control. When someone who has been hurt chooses to speak, document, teach, or even build something meaningful from that experience, it disrupts the offender’s preferred version of reality. The transformation of pain into agency exposes two uncomfortable truths at once: the injury was real, and the injured person was not permanently diminished by it. Instead of apology, repair, or participation in restoration, the response is often indignation. And it’s not because the survivor is wrong — but because accountability has entered the room without permission. Some individuals are less disturbed by the consequences of their actions than by the evidence that those actions can no longer be denied.”

“Putriku, bagaimana kau tahan sedemikian banyak penderitaan dan kepedihan? Bagaimana aku menahannya bersamamu dulu? Selalu kurasa, putriku, bahwa engkau mampu melakukan apa saja, memindahkan gunung atau menghancurkan batu-batu karang, walaupun tubuhmu kecil dan lemah seperti juga diriku. Namun ketika kaki-kakimu yang kecil mungil menendang-nendang dinding lambungku, aku berkata kepada diriku: Tuhan, kekuatan yang apa ada dalam tubuhku ini? Gerakanmu kuat ketika kau masih sebuah janin dan mengguncangku dari dalam, sebagaimana gunung berapi yang mengguncang bumi. Namun kutahu bahwa engkau sekecil diriku, tulang-tulangmu kecil seperti tulang-tulang ayahmu, setinggi dan serampingnenekmu, sedangkan kedua kakimu sebesar kaki para nabi. Ketika kau lahir, nenekmu mengatupkan bibirnya dalam kesedihan dan berkata: Ah, seorang anak perempuan dan jelek lagi! Bencana ganda! Kutegangkan otot-otot lambungku untuk menahan rasa sakit di rahimku dan menghentikan darah dan sambil bernafas dengan sulit karena kelahiranmu sukar dan aku menderita seakan-akan kulahirkan sebuah gunung, kukatakan kepada nenekmu: Bagiku ia lebih berharga daripada seisi dunia ini! Kudekap engkau ke dadaku dan aku pun tertidur nyenyak. Dapatkah aku, Putriku, kembali menikmati saat tidur nyenyak ketika engkau berada di dalam diriku atau setidak-tidaknya dekat denganku sehingga dapat kuulurkan tanganku untuk menyentuhmu? Atau ketika engkau berada di kamarmu di sebelah kamarku sehingga aku dapat berjingkat untuk menjengukmu waktu kau tidur?”