Monday, October 18, 2010

the "s" word

One night at dinner, my 7 year old daughter was telling us the rules of her classroom, and my husband and I sat with attention as she told us, "we're not allowed to say all the bad words. You know, like the 's' word."

"The 's' word?" my husband asked almost afraid to hear the answer.

She leaned in and whispered, "stupid."

From this moment, something that now seems obvious started to dawn on me: this "s" word is a subtle, yet powerful, form of violence.  The teacher's decision to ban this word from the classroom was a measure to create harmony and peace among the students.  Brilliant.

And as I've tossed this around more in my mind, I see how much adults could take a cue from my daughter’s teacher.  The news and the political conversations that grow out of the news throw around the "s" word or one of its close cousins on a daily basis. We constantly belittle public figures, those who follow them, entertainers, even just random people who somehow end up in a glint of spotlight.

And this "s" word leads right into the middle of the "us against them" mentality.  Through labeling others as stupid, we can build these fences that divide us into different groups: those that know what’s going on and those that are stupid.  And at least in the U.S., this sort-of thinking has developed into a deeply ingrained cultural pattern.  There is a great deal of violence in cultural conversations, and these word and thought choices act as a subtle poison eroding our societal sense of unity.

Just because bloodshed, guns, and bombs aren't a literal part of our every day lives, it just takes moments to look and see the gaping cultural divides that separate us?  And each day they feel harder and harder to bridge.

But, I'm so unwilling to just accept that this is the ugly path we're destined to continue.  My daughter's teacher has done her part in creating a more peaceful world by teaching the growing children in her care that the "s" word is inappropriate for conversation.  She inspires me to find the ways to play my own part in bringing more peace to my words, my thoughts, and my actions.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

conscious parenting

when i was pregnant with my now nine year old daughter, i had the incredibly good fortune of running into the article parenting by intention, by barry neil kaufman.  before my daughter even entered the world, this article made me start thinking about parenting in an entirely different way than everything i had seen or experienced before.  the thing that i've taken the most from the article is a sense that we are teaching our children in such subtle but powerful ways in everything we do.  by consciously choosing how to interact with our children, we can hopefully ensure that the greatest lessons of childhood are the ones that we most wanted to communicate, instead of ones that came from the unintended consequences of following many mainstream parenting techniques.


this week i found a second profoundly inspiring writing on parenting: raising children compassionately: parenting the nonviolent communication way, by marshall rosenberg.  in this tiny book, dr. rosenberg shares many stories about his experiences raising his own three children, and he powerfully demonstrates how we can raise wonderful children without the tools of punishment and reward.  his philosophy centers on giving our children the utmost respect and resisting the pressure to control their behavior.  so many things that he communicates in the book resonated for me, but i've found that these sorts of ideas are pretty radical in the world of modern parenting.


in the last decade when raising a daughter has been on the forefront of my mind, i've only come across these two writings that have inspired me about parenting, and it's left me wondering if there isn't a dominant parenting paradigm based on control, punishment, and reward that isn't questioned as often as it should be. 


the ways we serve our children are as varied as the parents in the world, and although there is no right way and no perfect parent, i love exploring these different perspectives on the fringe.  it helps me affirm my own unique way of parenting, and it helps me continue moving into a role of greater harmony with my daughter, my self, and the way my parenting expresses my highest hopes for the future of humanity.     

Thursday, October 7, 2010

The Immaculate Mother

Written for my paternal grandmother, 12/23/2003:


The Immaculate Mother

A spirit so pure
She willingly took the place
Of a mother of nine
Who could no longer occupy that space

Although these children were not born of her womb
She loved and nurtured them as though they were
Maintaining their home in memory of their first mother
Proud to share the love with her irreplaceable predeccessor

Taking the labor of a large family that would crush many
Only strengthened this great woman's unassuming spirit
With the light of God shining from her heart
She taught her lessons through example and great merit

A matriarch need not give birth to embody the spirit of motherhood
The key is having selfless and undiminished love for her kin
This Immaculate Mother taught that we, as human beings, are not inherently selfish
But rather have within us the ability to give in perfection

Monday, October 4, 2010

some thoughts about my grandmom

 originally written for my maternal grandmother - 2/6/2010

My grandmother passed away 2 years ago at age 99, just months before she would’ve become a centenarian. Many who knew her may only remember how nasty and rude she could be, which was unfortunately the side she most often showed in her last years, but, if you had the privilege of seeing beneath that rough exterior, there was quite a woman inside.

The period of time that she always harped on and returned to in story after story was the Great Depression. Seeing the endless lines of people wanting work and food had such a strong impact on her view of the world. She was lucky enough to be employed throughout the Depression by the Philadelphia Wanamakers store, and as her own life and wealth began, she was so impacted by how things were falling apart for the people around her.

It made her shrewd with money and, well, shrewd all around, in the best and worst senses of the word. She was clever and conniving, and always ready to protect herself and her things if necessary. One event which really captures what she’d do to protect her independence happened when she was in her 90s. She had to have her medications doled out by the staff in her retirement home, and she so despised the loss of freedom. In an effort to take the situation into her own hands, she called the pharmacy to order her prescription for herself. She almost pulled it off, but the fake credit card number that she gave them didn’t go through and spoiled her plan. These little borderline criminal activities defined my grandmother in her later years. They drove those who cared for her absolutely nuts, but secretly I always admired her strength and was thoroughly entertained from my vantage point far from the brunt of her wrath.

My grandmother was so truly ahead of her time. She was a strong and independent woman, and she gained the confidence to so thoroughly challenge the world with only an education through middle school. She resented the lost opportunity to attend school because of the need to care for the home and her ailing mother, but for what she didn’t learn in school, she made up for in reading books and in using her own mind to figure out the world. She led her family to financial freedom and paid off every house she ever lived in. She ended up with more than enough money to carry her through her long life. In my opinion, she cracked the code of living with a sense of freedom, something many of us with greater opportunities and education haven’t been able to do. Granted, sometimes it was the freedom to deck a nice lady at the retirement home cocktail hour, but still a sense of freedom nonetheless.

Grandmom has been on my mind this week as I started to crochet a scarf for my daughter. Crocheting was a great love in her life and one that she passed along to me. As I age and crochet when I have time, I understand more and more the peace she got from this simple creative act. During this nostalgic flood of memories that has been coming to the surface, she made a strange but profound reappearance in my life today.

This morning I got a message from a lawyer looking for me. The lawyer told me that savings bonds had been found underneath some floor boards in my grandmother's old bank. They are dated spanning the time before my birth up until the year I was born, and on them is my name and the city where my family lived when I was born. There was also an alternate beneficiary whose last name is my grandmother’s maiden name. It’s still not at all clear that these savings bonds are in fact for me, although the coincidences are mounting to the point that it seems they must be. Being dated before I was born is more than a bit strange, but somehow it doesn't seem impossible considering my grandmother. This is just the sort-of wacky thing that happened with some frequency when she was alive.

I miss her, and this weird situation feels like her way of reaching out to show that she still has the power to stir up some crazy, even from the Great Beyond. Today I'm feeling grateful for the chance to see her at work once again.