Our 2010 census came today and I couldn’t be more excited. So much in my life has changed since 2010 and so many answers are different for me. In 2000, I was unmarried (still had my maiden name), cohabitating with Captain Science’s Y-chromosomal donor (who misidentified his race on the census in order to perpetuate a series of lies he’d told me), was just pregnant with Captain Science (I don’t think I even knew it yet), had never given birth and had no children living with us (we had my ex’s older children every other weekend), lived in an apartment (one-bedroom, rundown, trashed).
Captain Science and the Tank were very interested in the census, so we decided to fill it out as a family activity. We talked for a while about what the census is so important — that it’s a way of counting people, of knowing what kinds of people lived in the United States, what kind of families people had, whether an area needed more schools or more police or more roads. They seemed to grok what a bunch of adults couldn’t, that the census is how we understand our nation’s size and diversity, not some sort of sinister way of prying into our personal lives.
Since I was the one filling it out, I was “Person 1″ for the sake of the census. I asked the questions, and the boys gave me the answers…loudly. We had some initial squabbling when the Tank insisted my first name was “Mama” and Captain Science kept telling him it wasn’t, but we ironed that out pretty quickly.
We discussed what “sex” means (as in one’s biological sex). What is male? What is female? What sex is Person 1? The Tank initially thought I might be male, because “male” and “Mama” both start with a “M” sound, but he agreed I am a girl or woman, so if “female” means girl or woman, that must mean I am female. The Tank also thought my age was “eighty-ninety,” which is his catch-all term for old. Nope, sorry kid. Only thirty!
Next up, whether or not I am of Hispanic or Spanish descent. Captain Science wasn’t sure why that might be relevant. I asked him what language our family might speak if we were Hispanic or Spanish in origin (answer: “Spanish?”), and explained that if there was a chance our family spoke Spanish, there’s a chance we might need Spanish-language services. If we spoke Spanish in our home and called the police, we might need someone there to understand us.
Next question: race. Both boys were quick to guess “white” for my race (which is accurate), but I still read the whole list of possible races. The census has many, many options for race, with the obligatory “other.” I explained that you didn’t have to just pick one race, either, because many people have family from different races and ethnicities. They thought it was great that you could pick all of those options. We talked about whether our individual worth would change if our race were different, and they agreed that it would not. We talked about whether we’d still be beautiful people if our race were different, and they agreed that people of all races were beautiful, and thought it was really neat how many different kinds of people live in the United States.
The Tank was a little confused by the question asking if we stayed or lived somewhere else, because we’d just returned from a week of being taken care of by my mother while I was dealing with the worst part of my pneumonia. He thought we might live there a little bit, too.
After we finished Person 1, we did Person 2 (Daddy). They thought it was silly that he would be listed as my husband or wife and that I couldn’t just pick one option. They answered that he was male, that he was the same age as me, that he wasn’t Hispanic, that he was white, etc. So on and so forth for Persons 3-5, with the one exception of the Tank guessing that Babypie was my husband. Weird.
We discussed the difference between “biological son or daughter” and “adoptive son or daughter.” For each of the kids, I asked, “Did you come out of my uterus?” and the boys would say, “Yes!” After Babypie’s questions, the Tank became very excited and yelled, “Captain Science, me, and Babypie all came out of the same place!” Yes, yes you did.
After Persons 1-5 were completed, we sealed up the envelope. It took all of ten minutes and that’s with the help of the boys. Now we are counted. We’re part of our national numbers. That’s no small thing.
This is the only census we’ll likely take with all of us together, in one home full-time. By the next census, Captain Science will probably be off to college. By the one after that, we might even be empty nesters. A lot changes in 10 years and those changes matter.
Do you count?
