"Cuteness"

This weekend, my husband and I added to our family. We chose a child to sponsor in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Her name is Lydia. She is our second sponsored child. It was an interesting process for me, looking through the pictures of children on the website.

I asked my husband, "How are we supposed to choose?"

I figured I would see the picture of a child we were "meant" to sponsor, and I would feel...something. I imagined looking at a pair of eyes that seemed to speak just to me. A connection.

As we scrolled through, I saw several little faces that melted my heart. Chubby little cheeks, puppy dog eyes, lovely features that looked somehow familiar. But in the end, I couldn't bring myself to choose a "cute" kid. Cynically, I figured these kids would have no trouble getting sponsored. You can't help but get attached to some of these kids. They are little angels.

No, in the end I was struck by an older girl whose face was not the cherubic image that is usually featured on mailings and commercials. This girl is not what I would describe as "cute". She looks about as different from me as one can get. Except for her head--she has a beautiful head, unencumbered by lots of hair.

I saw her, and she looked so unhappy. None of these kids look happy, but she looked world weary already, at the age of 8. I read her bio, and apparently she is an orphan who lives with her uncle. My husband had wanted to find a child who was an orphan, so I wrote her name down as a possibility. We kept looking through pictures, but I couldn't forget her. Truthfully, I was immediately mistrustful of the fact that she lives with her uncle. It's horrible to admit, but I tend to assume the worst about male family members in certain parts of the world. I hope to be wrong enough times in the future to change my view on that. But her eyes--they have something in them besides hunger, sadness, or fear. They have hard edges, perhaps formed by bitterness or anger. I can't tell. All I know is that my thoughts kept returning to her. No other child seemed as urgently in need of help as she.

I know, I know. Here I am, the "white savior", assuming a plight that may or may not really exist. And I know she and her uncle are fully rounded human beings. At least, I am trying to intentionally remind myself of that. But whatever her reality is, whether there is abuse in the picture or just the daily grind of poverty, I have resources that she desperately needs.

So back to the night we chose her. When I told my husband that she was the one, we tried to go back and find her picture, but we couldn't! The pictures didn't appear in the same order as the first time we had scrolled through. We did a search for her name, for kids her age, everything we could think of--for about 20 minutes. I was so frustrated, but we had decided that by 8:50 pm we had to choose a child. It was 8:49. We settled on choosing the next child who was an orphan. We clicked to the next child, and the story came up before the picture loaded. I saw the word "uncle", held my breath, and Lydia's face appeared. The clock turned to 8:50. She was for us.

My husband wanted to share her photo on Facebook, which he did, but I was hesitant. Not really for security reasons, I don't think. After all, World Vision has these photos available for anyone to see. No, I think my hesitation was because she is not "cute". I could imagine people looking at her and not feeling anything, because she doesn't make you say "awww...". Maybe I was embarrassed. That would be awful, but I think it's probably the truth.

Lately I have noticed that this value we place on "cuteness" in children is really pervasive and harmful in a lot of ways. My six-year-old daughter has been lapsing back into baby talk and whining, which I think has to do with the fact that her two-year-old brother really is stinkin' cute. He knows it, we know it. When he does something cute, we "ooh" and "ahh" and laugh. When she tries to get the same reaction from us by doing the same thing, we find it annoying. Or, at the very least, just not new and cute anymore.

I have to really be careful to give my daughter affirmation for things she does that I know she wants me to think are "cute". I want her to grow up too, but right now I think it's really important to her that I still fawn over the things she says and does. Because to her, "cute" means "important".

This post has maybe been a bit rambling, but I really need to process my own complicity in a society that values "cuteness" and figure out how to open myself to different kinds of beauty and sweetness. Of course, "cute" kids deserve every bit of the love (and sponsorship) they get. And of course, not everyone doles out favor according to "cuteness". But I recognize the tendency in me to be attracted to it and repelled by anything else.

Gerber shouldn't get to trademark "cuteness" and define it for us. Recognize the beauty of every face, the innocence of every child, and the sweetness in every age.