It became a day about so much more than headscarves for babies as our children’s aid organizations and charities took center stage. Hannah from Friends of El Faro opened the flood gates when she spoke with such passion and heart about her work at the orphanage and her personal connection to this group.

One after the other, the women gathered at our table shared the different ways that they are effecting their world. Whether raising their children, producing media that informs or entertains, volunteering  or making other women feel beautiful this day proved how powerfully woman in our community are living. It was a day where the women left their babies ( literal little ones, husbands or projects!) at home and celebrated one another.

Gia, our first sewer spoke so beautifully about why she felt a part of the Whole World Baby family. This was a chance to look at a lauch differently; a chance to make it about the world of the women gathered together. It was so wonderful and so many powerful and productive connections were made that we just might do it again.

We envision a gathering of women where as we raise a glass and break bread in honor of each other we are also perusing booths filled with all of our efforts. Just imagine baby clothes, organic products, green cookbooks, life coaches, marketing experts, arts and crafts and more. Stay tuned; we’ve launched upon the strength of these women’s wings and landed with our feet firmly on the ground ready to walk a path into the Whole World.

Scarves have been worn by Christian women in Medieval times, sports fans all the time and on the Prairies of America at one time. They have been part of traditional Armenian, Norwegian and Chinese fashion. They’ve been banned, fought over and forced on some women. They have done equal time in the fields and on the runways. They’ve been a sign of pride, respect, social distinction, culture, religious beliefs and even ridicule.

Isn’t it time that we decide to use this simple accessory as a sign of our togetherness rather than our separateness. To honor all traditions and remember that at some point all of our ancestors wore some sort of headscarf. Shouldn’t it allow us to start conversations about our unique histories rather than stop conversations in our modern world? If this little piece of fabric is going to have so much power, shouldn’t it be to bring us together?

These are the questions we asked ourselves as we created Whole World Baby and our intention has always been to be a part of the answer.

Once I got to college in the big city in the late 80’s I was shocked to see the streets lined with bodies; old, young, male, female and even whole families. I could not fathom how all of these people could be “homeless”, a term I’d only just learned upon my arrival in Philadelphia. One chance meeting with a group of people who were homeless after being locked out of my college apartment and an activist was born. Within months studies took a backseat to my endeavors to understand and eradicate this injustice. I wrote letters, performed plays, marched in protests and collected blankets for my new friends. All of this was almost inconceivable to most of my family and friends back home who were raised with a blue collar work ethic and set of circumstances that prevented them from understanding how this terrible misfortune could befall so many. Needless to say it was a time of tremendous growth and difficulty. Candy Land and summers “down the shore” began to feel like a distant dream as I woke up to the realities of the world. I’d held homeless newborns in my arms on dirty street corners for homeless mothers trying to make the impossible decision to turn their babies over to social services. The look in their eyes said they knew this was no place for a child. I started to wonder if I could ever bring a life into this brutal world.

Twenty years later and I find myself on Sudanese soil holding a newborn Darfur refugee in my arms. She has only ever known life here and half of her family has been brutally murdered and displaced by a genocidal government. Half way around the world and I see a familiar look in this mother’s eyes; hopelessness. There are thousands of children in every camp I visit and thousands more still making the long dangerous trek to relative safety. I am in my late 30’s and again wondering how I could ever bring life into a world so cold. I wonder how this all began, the brutality and disregard for human life. Although we said, “Never Again” the world still sits by and watches. Perhaps we dehumanize each other with all of our labeling and judgment. Every time we say “those people over there are always fighting” we take a stand for separatism and judgment instead of empathy for our fellow man and solutions for our problems.

 We conceived my daughter the day I returned from the refugee camps. I believe that her father and I were taking a stand for humanity, love and new beginnings that day. She arrived in a home birth after 32 hours and took our world by storm. She renewed my faith in humanity. With that renewal, came a call to conscious parenting and regrettably much of my “activism” was put on hold as I learned how to be truly present for my daughter. I struggled to put the Blackberry down and surrender to this new life. Somewhere in the back of my head or deep in my heart Walt Whitman’s words kept echoing” Produce great persons and the rest follows.” 

So this rainy morning in South Jersey when my daughter asks for her toys for the 100^th time I tell her,” Go get mama the Family Farm and we’ll play.” I tell myself that I am teaching her to participate in life and not expect everything to be done for her but truth be told I am partially being lazy. That laziness is followed by a wave of guilt for all the people and causes that I have left behind to play with The Fisher Price Family Farm. Just then, Ava toddles in proudly with her toy and says,” Here, Mama!” I open my mouth to say “Good Girl!” but something catches my tongue. I hear Whitman’s ghost whisper in my ear and am reminded that is not my job to judge, label or evaluate my daughter’s person. If she is decreed a good girl then she will surmise she also has the potential to be a bad girl. With two tiny words I have the power to embark her on a life long journey of self criticism or self reflection. A simple change of one word and I am doing my greatest work, “Good job!”  She is not good or bad, she simply is and to evaluate her person as opposed to her behavior is a great disservice.

With all the activism I participated in the greatest lesson I learned is that all the injustices of the world begin at home in tiny almost inconceivable ways by families doing the best they can with what they know.   Of course our children grow up and go to school and out into the community and are influenced there as well. I know it is frightening for all of us as parents or as children of parents we revered or feared that we might have been getting some things wrong for all these years. We all might however stand a better chance of a better world if every playmate, teacher or employer had a mother or father who decided to try another way. We do better when we know better and communication and empathy are as valid skills as math and science to the survival of our species; perhaps more so.  After all in this modern world we really are a global village and therefore one big family. Maybe that’s what the 1967 Fisher Price Family Farm was really meant to teach me.

-          by Stacey Martino, partner in Whole World Baby