How do I baby?

Assignment: In this assignment, things that were considered universally good by society were listed on the board, and the class was divided in half. One half were contrarions, those that would tear down these culturally-accepted goods. The other half were champions, singing their praises and worth. I was put into the champion group, assigned to the topic of 'Liking Babies', and then did a cubing with Steph to determine all the questions we would ask and work with in our writing on babies. We came up with many, chose a few favorites, and then separated for the following free-write:

What are babies? Babies are everything and nothing, a well of infinite potential. Babies represent all that we can be, all of our promise, they are humanity without stain. To love babies is to love all that we represent as a race, as a people, as points of light in the dark universe.

When do people have babies? People have babies when they are ready to add another life to their own, when they are ready to be responsible for the growth of a new life. People never take on such a responsibility without thought, reason, or some such thing. People want babies to be happy and healthy, and so do their best to ensure that they can provide for a baby to be just that, happy and healthy.

"How do I baby?" I suppose that's really the heart of the matter, isn't it? How do I baby. We all like babies, we all care for them, but how do you care for them, how do you raise them, how do you have them? Where do babies come from? The age-old question, the time-honored lie. Babies come only from the union of two people, babies come from the biological imperative of a species, babies come from a rush of feelings, feelings strong and vibrant, feelings passionate and bright. And if they're very, very lucky, babies come from love.

But, wait, that doesn't answer my question. How do I baby? How do I create something that is a little me and a little you, that is a living, breathing proof that somehow we were connected? Well, do you have to create it? Does it have to come from you? Societal folly! A baby need not be the combined seed of yours and another's genetic material. There are babies all around, ripe for the taking! In need of a home! In need of your care! Your baby is yours because you love it, not because it looks like you or acts like you. Therefore, adopting a baby is a valid, even cherished alternative, showing that love for children goes beyond mere genetic instinct! (Though, let us not examine too closely why such infants require adoption in the first place. I'm sure that there was a good reason for each and every one of them.)

Right! So now you have your baby. Still, you ask, "How do I baby?". Why, with love and kindness, of course! Babies are people too, just little people that aren't done stewing yet. You decide what goes in the pot, and you decide how to mix it! Having such a life in your hands is surely one of the best feelings a human can experience! We were all made to be parents some day, each and every one of us, taught by our own beloved parents before us, and so on! Equipped with the history of all of man-kind, you will surely make an excellent parent as well!

And now all this straw is starting to get to me, bursting through the ill-knit seems of my sewed-together suit. If I exist now to provide the campaign for optimism and idealism, why is it then that I must write endlessly, without pause? A free-write to argue in favor of beauty, goodness, and truth? How difficult! Yet, why is it so difficult? Ah, now there's an interesting question. Is that the lesson to be learned from this exercise? That to write inspirationally, optimistically, positively, idealistically, etc, etc, is not something that just flows naturally from the human mind? That, when instructed to do so, the mind rebels, and thinks of all the ways that such an argument can be torn down?

In my challenge to write of optimism, of the virtues of children, and how everyone likes them, and why everyone likes them, I find that such purity of purpose slips away, and I become a mere man of straw, existing to be shot down. Perhaps beauty and goodness and truth is not something that will simply flow out of us like blood. Perhaps, instead, it is something that we must contemplate and carefully postulate, something to be held dearly and appreciated, rather than spewed forth like a clenched-down hose. If to understand goodness is a long and arduous challenge, not a intrinsic, easy right, then challenge accepted.