Little Boy Blue

I could tell something wasn't quite right with Youngest Son when he came out of school today.  As soon as we were alone he said he didn't want to participate in tonight's special school music show.  I assumed it was stage fright but I got the whole story in the car on the way home.


Youngest Son has been practicing for weeks for tonight's special "Patriotic Performance."  He's been rehearsing at home, singing along to the CD the music teacher provided.  The whole second grade is supposed to sing various songs including:  "The Star Spangled Banner," "America the Beautiful," and a "Military Medley" that includes the official songs of the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines and Coast Guard.

So I asked him why he didn't want to go, assuming he was nervous about performing in front of an auditorium full of parents and friends.
Here's what he said:  "Well I don't want to sing songs about killing.  I mean, I like freedom and I want to show that I respect my country but I'm sad because I don't like war and I don't like killing."  I watched huge tears roll down his cheeks and my heart cracked at this loss of innocence.  This was not a case of stage fright.  My little guy was experiencing nothing less than a struggle to reconcile conflicting cultural values.  Where does love of country come in the hierarchy of values?  How can I be peaceful and still fight for what I believe in?

At their final rehearsal today I guess something clicked for Youngest Son and he realized some of the implications behind the lyrics he'd been belting out for weeks.  He said he cried during practice today and was worried he wouldn't be able to sing it tonight.  I could tell he was anxious that we'd make him perform.  Instead, we're letting him opt out.  We discussed that the realities of war are very ugly but we explained that the values of peace and love of country are not mutually exclusive.  We explained that the music program was not meant to celebrate killing but to honor those who have served to protect us and the values we hold dear.  We told him he was brave to tell us how he felt and that we would respect his feelings.

I've been privileged to witness many of Youngest Son's milestones:  his first smile, his first word, his first step, his first loose tooth, the first book he read that was more words than pictures.  But today came a milestone I didn't expect, at least not yet -- his first protest; his first conscientious objection?  Our little boy who used to eat his food into the shape of a gun until we finally let him have Nerf Dart guns is wrestling with our cultural contradictions and simultaneously constructing his identity.  And while I want all of my children to develop resiliency and perspective I hope he never loses the sense that all life is sacred.