Hateful Hippy Parents

I’m a grown woman with kids, and, in trying economic times, we do as all good Americans do and move to where the jobs are. Trying to integrate into a new community of adults who already have established friends, routines, and little spare time for more than work and parenting is nearly impossible.

Somehow, I found myself embraced by a group of hippy families. Though my fashion sense veered to the middle of the road long ago, I always kept the ideals that finding common ground, being tolerant and accepting of others will get us closer to a more peaceful future. This initially drew us together.

At first, it was all lovey dovey. I made sure to have loads of locally grown snacks for playdates and cooked vegetarian meals, while nibbling on a lamb shank in the kitchen when no one was looking so as to avoid causing discomfort or offense. I never tried to pretend I was someone else. I didn’t change the rules for my kids. I always made it clear that I chose a certain approach –say setting boundaries for kids– but understood that others had to walk the child rearing road that worked for them. I tried to be tolerant and understanding of our differences. I focused on our common ground. Or so I thought.

Imagine my surprise when they not only refused to reciprocate, but started to bully one of my kids and alienate me.

I started paying closer attention to their comments and realized that their tolerance was all bogus. Unless people were just like them, they weren’t worthy of kindness or understanding. The air was so thick with hypocrisy that it felt like an over-boiled lentil soup. Putting people down for laughs was fine. Hurting people’s feelings—yup, that was popular too. Sticking your neck out for someone a little different to you? Fine in theory, when discussing far-fetched places and interesting ethnic groups, but not for average janes and joes like my husband and me.

You may argue this isn’t the norm, that I was just unlucky, but I’ve experienced this again and again. The very first time I experienced hating-hippies up close, they’d ripped off a bunch of ‘rednecks’ by dosing them with LSD prior to playing poker. This was ok because they were..well rednecks. Not terribly peace and love kind of people. I’d written off the cruel behavior as a symptom of their youth. But when I experienced adult cruelty where backstabbing and casting me out with a silent ‘peaceful’ smile were deemed acceptable, I chastised myself for letting my guard down and allowing the hippies to shatter my self- esteem and break my heart at the drop of a hacky sack.

What really irks me is that they see themselves as these incredibly evolved people, but their intolerance and self-righteousness is a façade. Hippies simultaneously claim the moral high ground while trampling on every value held dear by their supposed philosophy of living.

In the end I am grateful I was cast out. I simply couldn’t bear another eye-roll or superiority-laden glance when a regular mom opted-in to disposable diapers or out of breastfeeding. It was hard in the short term. I am still figuring out why it hurt so much to be cast out by people whom I now know I don’t want to be with. The unintended gift was that it taught me not to compromise on friendship and I’ve now found a small wonderful group of friends.

To all the hating hippies out there: Shame on you! I hope someday you’ll be able to ditch your Birkenstocks and walk in another person’s shoes. Maybe then you’ll finally get what Peace, Love, and Light are really about. Maybe then you’ll join the legions of people out there who may not have embraced reusable menstrual cups but who actually practice your so called values rather than just preach them.

And maybe then, we’ll actually move one step closer to Eden, preferably clad in a more stylish pump.