Sarah Robinson's Blog, page 7

When You Have to Be A Starbucks Hero

This is a little story about how I saved the world…er, Starbucks patrons…from an outlet hog. You’re welcome, everyone.

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Published on September 14, 2016 09:00

9/11: The Students With Missing Parents

All students with “missing parents” were called to the guidance counselor’s office. Every other student was dismissed to their parents, but school officials didn’t know who would be coming for us.

Our parents were in towers that weren’t there anymore.

Our parents were in towers that every classroom’s television had just shown us was crumbling to the ground–our loved ones inside.

When my little sister and I were finally taken home by a kind babysitter, we sat hand in hand on the edge of the cliff at the end of our street–a small stone wall we could perch on and look directly into Manhattan. We sat on that cliff in more ways than one, our eyes straining as if maybe we could catch a glimpse of our dad from miles away. Maybe he was okay. Maybe he wasn’t in the collapse we’d seen on tv.

Manhattan was covered by a huge mass of smoke, but the skyline was missing two very obvious buildings.

And two little girls were missing their father.

Hours passed, cell phones didn’t work, and it wasn’t until night fall that he stumbled through the door. Covered in a white ash, or soot, or I’m afraid to know what else, he was home and he was okay.

Everything was okay.

And then the news started to trickle in. Friends, neighbors, mothers, and fathers who weren’t going to make the long walk from Manhattan to New Jersey tonight. People I’d known my whole life, suddenly gone. Their kids–my friends–left to pick up the pieces.

It’s those kids and their families that weigh on my heart every year. It’s the absolute terror I felt all day waiting for my father to come home, or the ache I feel in my heart when I think of what he went through to return to us that I dwell on today.

And every year, I always say the same thing.

There will be wonderful stories of survival, sacrifice, and triumph today. Those stories are vital and needed and serve an important purpose. Embrace them. Praise them.

Americans are so brave.

There will be calls for change, for defending our country, for fighting back. Those spirits and courage are important, too. Support them. Hold them.

America is so strong.

Then there will be people like me who take this one day a year and we’re not strong. We sit quietly and remember how badly those losses still hurt. And that’s important, too.

Allow yourself to feel the hurt, reflect on it, and acknowledge its value. Then, tomorrow, return the pain to where it belongs, and continue on with our heads held high and our hearts open wide.

Tomorrow, we can be strong.

Today, we can be broken.

We can just be human.

And that’s okay.

#Sept11 #NYC #NeverForget

[This post was originally published on Sarah’s Facebook page here. It was shared over 570+ times with 1.2 likes and dozens of comments–what an honor to be able to reach so many people with this story. Thank you.]

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Published on September 11, 2016 09:00

The Definition of Marriage

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I dare anyone to find a better definition of marriage than this photo of a note my husband left on our fridge today.

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Published on September 10, 2016 09:00

Be Human. Be Kind.

Today, I saw a man walking with his son.

I immediately felt uneasy. Something didn’t feel right. I told this to my husband, but he didn’t see anything wrong, and to be fair, nothing looked wrong. It just FELT wrong. (Warning: it gets graphic from here on)

So, I followed them around the corner of the building. When I saw them again, the 6ft 8in tall father was punching his tiny son repeatedly in the chest and throwing him into the wall, screaming at him about what a horrible child he was. The entire wall shook each time his little body hit it. The kid was crying and screaming and APOLOGIZING to his father for upsetting him.

My husband and I immediately intervened–it never crossed our minds not to. Yet at least 6 people were in viewing distance of this and turned away so as “not to see it.”

I’m 5ft 7in and a punch from me could easily be mistaken for a gnat landing on you, so I don’t think I’m that frightening, but I stood my ground anyway because sometimes it’s about having a powerful attitude, not muscle power.

I stepped between him and the child while my husband was on the phone with 911. When this man tried to threaten me, I stood taller and gave him the most intimidating stare down I could muster while lecturing him on how not to be a total dickhead. In truth, I was genuinely worried I was about to pee my pants or that he’d see I was trembling.

The giant man stepped back–FEAR in his eyes. Afraid of ME as I stood between him and his son.

He continued to fling insults at me and my husband (who did immediately come to my defense, of course), but this man’s son watched someone defend him–possibly for the first time ever.

His son heard me when I told him this was not his fault, and he did not deserve to be treated like this, that he was a good kid and was worth more than what was happening. He may not understand it until he’s older or in a healthier environment, but at least one person in his life will have told him his worth. And one day, it’ll resonate inside him. At least, that’s my hope.

Police came and took charge of the situation and we wrote our reports and told the story half a dozen times again and again, but that was fine by us.

I’m telling this story because I feel I came away with some really powerful life lessons today, and I hope maybe by sharing it, it could encourage/help others who may be faced with a moral situation like this.

1) If something doesn’t feel right, listen to your gut. Even if that means inconveniencing yourself, or possibly facing a threat head on. Our instincts are so powerful, if we’d only listen.

2) 911 can put you on fucking hold apparently (didnt know that was a thing!) and takes a long goddamn time to answer the phone. So, be prepared to hold down the fort until police arrive thirty damn minutes later. Anyways, sorry, venting. Our criminal justice system sucks balls.

Sorry. Scratch #2. I’ll redo this one.

Real 2) Children cannot, nor should they be expected, to stand up for or defend themselves. They need adults to step in when somethings wrong, even if it’s a stranger.

3) If you see something like this happening and you don’t speak up, you are just as bad as the perpetrator. In fact, you’re handing him his greatest tool–the flawed thought that he’s invincible. You’re teaching that child that no one will save him, and that his father is right.

4) There is POWER in doing the right thing. Sometimes, the little guy can win. Ladies–we are powerful. Bullies are so often just talk. And someone who hurts a defenseless child? That’s a spineless bully. Find your power–even if it’s fucking terrifying. Find it, use it, and revel in what you are capable of when you’re doing what’s right.

5) There may never be a happy ending for this boy, who will still have an abusive father when he gets home. But at least one person told him he’s worth more. I truly wish more people told children their worth–strangers or not. Tell children they matter, and they deserve to be treated with respect, love, and kindness.

Anyways, that’s all I can muster at the moment because I’m a little emotional and now treating myself to delicious cheese stuffed garlic knots and pizza. But yeah. That’s my PSA for today.

Just be a good person. And help others.

Because that’s what being human is.

Be human. Be kind.

✌

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Published on September 08, 2016 12:00

3 Years As A Published Author

Today marks exactly 3 years since my very first book was published!!