The mother desperately tried to talk to the girl and get her attention while she was struggling to hold her on her lap. The girl seemed to engage all of her muscles in order to get free. She was expressing her discomfort through loud screams and cry, and was persistent in her resistance to sitting.Only a half meter away, I could not avoid noticing the desperate struggle of the mother, and looks from the people with their well-behaving children. I could not avoid hearing the girl’s cry, which was louder than the plane engines, “ear-hurting” …. and heart-braking. During these long minutes I kept switching my points of view: an irritated passenger, desperate mother and frustrated girl.
I observed the stressed flight attendants and glances of people who were sending toys in hope to calm the girl down. I tried to imagine the mother’s experience: feeling sorry for her child, feeling guilty for disturbing the passengers as well as for being so hard with her daughter; I observed the girl: she was like in trance and did not seem to pay any attention to other people and things, but her own embodied experience. That her mother did not respond to her wishes seemed to make her not only sad, but devastated. What possibly hurt her most was that she could not understand why she had to be tied down – and there was no way to explain in way that could make sense to her.
I felt compassion for both the girl and her mother, and in the second the girl’s eyes met mine I weaved to her to come and sit on my lap. I don’t think she could hear me through her screams and sighs, but she somehow understood my body-language or the facial expressions and accepted my offer. Her mother helped her over to my lap at the moment the plane was taking off, and the girl almost instantly fell asleep. Deep sighs remained for the following 30 minutes. The little body, soaked in sweat and tears, glued to my clothes… and to my heart. The image: http://madsiers.com/tag/babies-on-a-plane/
