Dear Arlandria,
This month was the month you found your voice. You jabber and squeal, letting the world know your presence. You've taught yourself this pterodactyl-esque high pitched squeal that even makes Gatsby leave the room. Trust me, it's at peak adorableness when you choose to bring it out at two in the morning. There's no doubt about it, you've got a voice and it is a loud one.
Each morning when you wake up you test your voice to see if it still works. Believe me, it does. You let the sound travel throughout our room, cooing and giggling with all the energy you gained throughout the night. Most days it is the best alarm clock I can think to wake up to.
I can't wait to hear how your voice grows and changes. Already it is so full of personality and joy. You love to talk to your toys, to the cats, and to your Daddy and I. Your jabbers are always so full of precision and effort, and I hope it never stops being that way.
Lately in our world, there has been much talk about women's voices. Between protests, strikes, and the #MeToo movement, everyone has an opinion about when a woman should speak, and what they should be able to say. Women have been speaking up about a number of topics lately, and they've been ridiculed and applauded, mocked and celebrated. It's a polarizing spectrum that has left me wondering what the world will be like when you inherit it.
I still dream of a world that offers equal rights for women. I dream of a society that allows women to be able to obtain titles like "leader" instead of "bossy", and "game changer" instead of "headstrong." Until then I will spend my nights dreaming and my days laying the foundations for that future. For you, my dear, you are that future.
As your mother I promise to always let you have a voice, even if it is one I may not agree with. I will give you safe boundaries, so you may have the freedom within them to grow however you wish. I promise to always listen, even on days when my brain is tired and my ears long to shut down.
I also promise to teach you the power of your voice.
Your voice is power. It is fire in a dry forest. It can break down barriers. It can change laws. It can frighten men with fragile egos inside stiff suits. Your voice is a weapon that can build others up, or tear them down. I hope you use it for good, for change. I hope you aren't afraid to voice your opinion, even if it means speaking up against someone you love. No man, no adult, no government, or society should hinder you from speaking your mind. And if they do, I hope you give them hell.
I hope you speak light into the darkness, illuminating issues that might not even affect you. There will be others will have a harder time using their voice than you will. You will be raised in affluence. You will be educated. And while you have Hispanic blood in your veins, you will grow up with white privilege that will allow doors to open for you that will slam in the faces of others. I want you to realize your privilege, even as a woman. I want you to use that privilege for those who don't have it. Speak up on their behalf, but more importantly, listen when they do choose to speak. For listening is just as important as learning to talk.
Little one, I hope you know how treasured you are. For when you know your worth, there is no one in this world than can crush your dreams.
You are every star in my night sky.
Love,
Your mother.
