Tonight, I was walking my dog. He’s a lab and one thing he would love to do is chase birds, squirrels, or cats, etc. -all day. This evening, he jerked me forward while I held his leash as he lunged for a bird. Yet the bird, wasn’t the ordinary bird you see out on a city street. It was a small green and yellow parakeet. The little bird skirted out of our way as I kept my dog in check. Then I noticed another bird bigger than the parakeet swoop in, and a chase emerged as the parakeet swiftly flew across the street to avoid the other bird’s advance. I continued to walk but stopped and looked back fascinated and concerned by the unique parakeet that must have sought independence from its previous dwelling. Then I realized there were many of the bigger birds, the brown birds like the one that chased the parakeet. It was as if they were gathering around this new kid in the neighborhood and size them up.
The parakeet was different; it was in its own world curious about finding something to eat not really concerned with joining the others but had the natural fight/flight instinct to protect itself. I pondered whether I should try to step in and help it. I related this with any other scenario where someone with a difference was not understood or supported. The parakeet flew back on my side of the street and seemed to get back to what it was focusing on prior to me and my dog’s interruption. I didn’t think I would be able to catch it. Why would she or he trust me? I also had my hands full with my dog. It was like one of the many stories we see in books and movies. The lead character heads out to find something better for themselves only to be met with obstacles, new friends and foes, and perhaps love and loss. But again, the question comes back “How is this mission complete without having the support of others?” It’s like real life-as in the different child at school that doesn’t fit in for some reason or another.
A car came whizzing by and all the brown birds flew off in a group. The parakeet stayed focus, possibly on some form of food. I chose to keep walking realizing that the little colorful bird would have to find it’s way. Sadly, I walked away, wondering if I was making the right decision. It was triggering me to think of those that are vulnerable and not seen enough to get someone to have their backs. The balance of intervention and letting one learn, it can be excruciating.
That parakeet reminds me of so many young people developing in a world that is too busy to take notice and understand. Children or teens that may not be painted on the outside with splendid colors but inside the colors shine and have the potential to be channeled into flight/greatness. The story of the parakeet reminds me of the vulnerability but also the courage, the good fight that generates a flight into expanding themselves despite this often intense and cruel world. These young people need the guidance and care to learn how to fly, seeking their tribe and having the tenacity to explore and discover.
There seems to be some synchronicity in motion this day I write about this story. Earlier in the day we took our 11-year-old autistic daughter to a charity event for children with special needs to fly in a small airplane. It’s called Challenge Air. After co-piloting a short flight, the pilot gave her wings and pinned them to her shirt. It was obvious in the parakeet that they were unique. Not always is it so obvious that a child that is wired differently, holds an authentic approach that deserves a consistent cheer for being brave to be different. When the children completed their flight, children with obvious and less obvious brain differences, each walked back into the hangar, their name announced, and everybody cheered.