#We Want To Do The Talking

Moving Day

This story, written under any other context, would not have had an impact of any form, for moving is rarely associated with a lack of rights, but it is in these moments, that one can tend to overlook basic needs.

It was a family of three: Mum, Dad, and Little Joel. Fortune had struck the family and Mum was able to secure her dream job, the only drawback being that they had to move. His parents had already made up their minds, this new job had more pay, Dad's firm had a branch there, and Grandma would also be there to help out with Joel, while they adjusted. It was simple.

Joel, however, on the other hand, didn't recognise the positivity in this change. After all, this was his home. It hurt, that this choice was made without his consultation. After all, what followed, was the uprooting of his entire life. Everything he had ever done or learnt or experienced had taken place right here. What hurt the most, was that no matter how much he called foul, he could do nothing. That was the injustice of the system, at the end of the day only his parent's vote mattered. 

His first words, first steps, and even his first time on the potty were all in the photo album on the mantle, and he had just seen his own mother put it in a box. He felt as though people were packing up his whole childhood, for every photo in that album was taken right here, at home. He felt tears welling up, and his nose getting stuffed. He initially didn't want to confront his parents as he had feared being on the end of a tongue-lashing, his parents were stressed enough.

He doubted anyone understood how he really felt. 

Do they know how it feels, to leave everything familiar and friendly behind, to be forced into a random place of which you know nothing?

Friends, or can I say sidekicks, who knew of his fantastic cookie heist were to be said goodbye to, and new strangers were to take their place? That didn't make sense. It felt as though in this deal, there was no compromise or settling.

He peeked around the edge of the door, to see his mum sitting on the floor in a floral and white set of loungewear her black hair falling down to her shoulders, and her back slightly hunched, surrounded by boxes with different labels written with a black marker. She didn't notice him at first, but at the sound of his breathing, she immediately looked right at him. Her eyes looked fatigued, and her breathing quite tired, but her expression quickly softened at the sight of him.

"Mum" Joel began, before immediately running into her arms, tears already flowing screaming "I don't want to go". His mother, first reacting to him jumping on her, put her arms out and took him into an immediate hug. Stroking the hair on the back of his hair, she began "Oh buddy, I'm sorry" She pulled him in close, and closed her eyes. "I didn't know you felt this way. I am sorry I didn't listen to you, tell you what, how about in the new house, I'll let you choose the room you want. "

"But Mum, I don't want to go"

"Darling listen, I know your dad and I didn't hear you out initially, but there is nothing we can really do now" I'm Sorry.

Adults don't expect this level of thought from their children, and therefore do not account for them. For that same reason, the child misses out on having their voice heard.

#WeWantToDoTheTalking