Defying ethnic boundaries

Back when Stella was three weeks old, we had a photography session with a local photographer, Lorissa Farr. She posted a couple of the best ones to her blog. We ordered some too. One of our favorites is this:


In this image, Lorissa perfectly captured one of our favorite of Stella's features that make her unique: the birthmark on her lower back. It's not unusual, a patch of skin on her lower back that appears darker than the rest of her skin. When she was born, we thought it was a bruise and asked the pediatrician about it. She assured us it was perfectly normal. It's called a mongolian spot and it is most commonly found in children of black or latin descent. Check, Stella is both of those via her father's heritage. Perfectly normal.

At the same time, we asked the pediatrician about another mark on the back of her neck that we had noticed and were concerned about. Here's a picture of that:


The pediatrician explained, it's another birthmark, called a stork bite. Nothing to worry about. It is most common in babies of caucasian descent. Check, Stella is of caucasian decent via me. Nothing to worry about.

Stella's diverse ethnic heritage is nothing unusual; I'd guess from all the families and children I've interacted with since Grace was born that most kids in this younger generation have the benefit of a rich genetic background. Yet, apparently there are still people in our society who don't understand it, don't accept it, and don't want to see it at all.

A few weeks ago we watched Rabbit-Proof Fence together as a family. It is the true story of three girls in Australia in the 1930s. You can watch the trailer here. The three girls are forcibly removed from their mothers, Aborigine, because they are biracial -- their fathers are white. Though it's rated PG, it's not exactly a movie for children unless they are mature enough to deal with difficult topics. For instance, until 1970, Australia still had a law on the books that "half-caste" children, the children who are biracially white and aborigine, are substandard. For that matter, aborigines are substandard humans. At one point in the film, I was so appalled I spit out, "what the fuck!" I was glad that Grace was old enough to understand my righteous anger. How could a government do something so awful, so unthinkable, so hateful and evil? I believe Kenneth Branagh's character in Rabbit-Proof Fence puts it most succinctly: "Are we to allow the creation of an unwanted race?" An industrialized, 20th century government did it because those in power believed children of interracial couples were substandard and should not exist.

Lest we think for a moment that this is barbarian and behind those of us in the US and in our distant past, the gross and despicable reality of the present hits us right between the eyes. Enter Keith Bardwell, a justice of the peace in Tangipahoa Parish, Louisiana. On Friday, the story hit national news media outlets: Judge Bardwell refused to issue a marriage license to an interracial couple. He explained his action by saying that such marriages do not stand the test of time and that children of such a couple would suffer due to not fitting into either culture. He maintains that he is not a racist for making such a decision, that he issues marriage licenses to black couples all the time. And he said, "It's kind of hard to apologize for something that you really and truly feel down in your heart you haven't done wrong." WHAT??!?!?!?!?? I react to this with the same righteous outrage that I did to the content of Rabbit-Proof Fence. But I must be explicitly clear about how outrageous this situation is. The judge does not approve of the marriage because he feels that the children of such a marriage would suffer due to their very existence and lack of identity with the culture of either parent. In short, multiethnic children are a problem. We as a society should do everything we can to prevent their existence in the first place. If they come to exist, we'll have a horrible problem on our hands.

I'm getting to the point where I believe that people in the world who suffer the worst racial discrimination are those who are multiethnic. Contrary to this, I have a rather different viewpoint. Rather than being a hindrance, I believe having a diverse heritage actually gives one an advantage in understanding the world and coping with its various social problems. Having the benefit of more than one vantage points enables a person to realize that the world is not black and white (no pun intended).

I guess these ideas of mine shouldn't come as a surprise since I am part of a multiethnic, bi-national family. But I'd be dishonest if I led you to believe that I came to this perspective without any influence. I heard a piece on NPR's Talk of the Nation a few weeks ago about a new production of Shakespeare's Othello, produced for stage in Washington, DC. and directed by Peter Sellars (no, not the one who died more than 20 years ago, a different one by the same name). In his interview with Neal Conan, Sellars addresses the obvious talking point of Othello, that being the ethnic identity of the title character. He's a Moor, traditionally portrayed by an actor of African or Arabic descent. "Moor" does not refer to any specific ethnic group, but rather someone who is dark-skinned and from the Iberian Peninsula. In other words, someone who is likely of mixed race. He is a successful and liked military leader. The poignancy of putting on this production to Washington, DC now is directly connected to Barack Obama and Justice Sonia Sotomayor. Whatever you think of the president's work so far, it is worth considering in what ways his heritage enables him to be a good leader, or at least, in what ways he is able to lead differently than all of his predecessors. Sellars addresses this point directly in the interview, at about 10:22:

We live in the age of Barack Obama and Tiger Woods. You know, what box are you gonna check? You know, the fact is, we're all more than one box. None of us fit into those boxes anymore.

It's that last line that got me. None of us fit into those boxes anymore. How many of us can neatly fit ourselves into a racial demographic? How about our children? I remember that when Grace was a little girl we went to American Girl Place in Chicago. We both looked to see if we could find a Just Like You girl that looked like each of us. Neither of us succeeded. Apparently American Girl still thought that blue eyes only go with blond hair and green eyes only go with light skin. We had difficulty fitting into an American Girl "box" despite the fact that both of us check off the box "caucasian, not hispanic." Stella doesn't check off one box on those surveys, so what luck does she have finding an American Girl that is Just Like Her?

If you find yourself recoiling at the suggestion that the "boxes" in demographic surveys are going the way of the buffalo, why is that? Is it the idea that our comfort zones are dissolving? If we can't presuppose things about people based on their appearance, maybe that makes us feel unsure and a little nervous. We might have to let go of our assumptions, the ones that make us feel knowledgeable and informed. Not all Spanish speakers are immigrants. Not all immigrants are poor and/or stupid. Not all blacks like rap. Nor do they all speak the same dialect of English. Not all whites like camping and corn bread. Nor Eddie Bauer. Need I go on?

As I have been thinking about Grace's friends throughout her childhood, I am struck by how few of them can clearly identify with one and only one ethnic group. This generation of children is, by their very DNA, more ethnically diverse. In a world that is quickly shrinking, a world in which it is an advantage to be not just tolerant of differences, but appreciative and enthusiastic, it seems that these kids undoubtedly are able to understand that world better.

Instead of focusing our energies of making lines and dividing up people into discrete groups that supposedly matter, wouldn't it be more fruitful to think of ourselves as citizens of the earth? Members of the human race? We have more in common with people once we stop and focus on the similarities rather than the differences. I, for one, am tired of the labels.

Guns and racism and censorship and drama and education. What's that? You think I'm being controversial?

Some of you may remember that about a month back I wrote about the selection of the annual musical at Grace's high school, Annie Get Your Gun, and whether the arts should be censored for teenagers. I argued that the arts should not be censored for teenagers and that parents alone should be held responsible for addressing their own values surrounding controversial issues at home. There were no dissenters in the comments. I was surprised. I expected at least one of you out there to say I was off my rocker. You really all agree with me? You believe that the public schools shouldn't limit access to the arts?

I bring this up now because one person who read the post emailed me directly and told me I was wrong. Dead wrong. On Monday, after we finished our family celebration of Children's Day, I read my email and received a message from a parent at Grace's school who had been forwarded the URL of the post. And it wasn't just any parent; it was the parent who had raised the objection to the choice of the musical in the first place. She corrected some errors I had made in the original post (there is an amendment to that post now). She also revisited the issue of how the school should be responding to Native Americans and women being marginalized in Annie Get Your Gun, as well as firearms being glorified. Since she presented her points in an email, unfortunately those of you reading the post wouldn't have the benefit of her comments. I thought it would be fruitful to revisit the issue again in order to give voice to an opposing view.

The concerned parent and I agree on the core issues, like the problems stemming from children having access to firearms and the desensitization to racial and gender-based discrimination when it arrives in subtle forms (or in any form, for that matter). Despite this common agreement, from reading what she has written to me, we disagree on how minors should be educated about these issues. I take it to be my role as a parent to educate my child at home as to what values I hope for her to take as her own. The other parent believes that some collective body should make those decisions for all students and all of them should be taught those values at school. For instance, this parent wrote to me in her email that fake firearms, such as those used as props in a play, are a public health risk, plain and simple. Since this is fact, we should never allow guns to be used as props in a school building since the presence of firearms anywhere constitutes a public health risk to all exposed (most importantly, minor students). Further, if arts containing firearms are present in the school, it is the responsibility of the school to educate students about gun control. In order for these actions to be made, some appointed authority would need to endorse these decisions as fact. If individuals hold a different opinion from that which the authoritative group decides, too bad. Now, while it is true that the majority of voting adults in our community support gun control, I'd say that the issue is a far cry from a closed-book issue. I mean, if we were suggesting that high school students in a public school located somewhere differently, like, say, in Oklahoma or Texas, should be taught that gun control is the only policy that will do, I can imagine that there would be some vehement vocal disagreement. So rather than bring controversial two-sided arguments to the school system to render a verdict on, I prefer that the educational system educate students about the issues and leave the verdicts up to parents.

So that's gun control. For me, I err on the side of protecting individual rights. I may not exercise my right to have a firearm at home, but I want to be very careful about limiting the right altogether. Maybe it's the American in me. Maybe it's the southerner in me. Maybe it's my experience in rural parts of the country that makes me feel this way, you know, places where it's useful to have a firearm because if someone untoward drives into your farm up to no good, you can meet them at the door with your rifle aimed just in case law enforcement doesn't show up before the ruffians do.

But on a broader scale, what about other topics? No one who commented on my original post indicated that they thought the educational system or some other authority should have the right to limit students' access to the arts, no matter what the content. Really? You guys think that sex and rock 'n' roll and rap and all the rest should be available to teens?

Do you think we should have rating systems on movies and television and music, keeping minors from their consumption, or do you think that kind of censorship is ok?

Birth control? Abortion?

What about argumentation that the sex industry is liberating?

What about expressions of disgust for the government?
What about expressions of disgust for opposition to the government?

War? War protests?

Gang warfare? Legalizing all mind-altering substances?

All of it? You all think that all of this information should be openly available to teens to digest for themselves, hoping that their parents or guardians will help guide their thinking in order to prevent societal chaos?

In all fairness, in the comments of my original post, Angelawd qualified her support for my position by writing "I do believe all ideas and materials should be appropriate for the age, and for the individual. Some kids are able to handle more reality than others." That sounds sensible. But now we have to ask, what is appropriate for teenagers? And what if some of those teenagers are able to handle more reality than others? How do we teach them all in the same school? I'm sure there are things that some of you think the schools should not allow students to access, aside from those things that are illegal. As you can see from my laundry list of questions above, Annie Get Your Gun is nowhere near as controversial as we could get.

I'll give you the behind the scenes to why I think parents should be the ones making these decisions at home and teaching their children those values at home. I've lived in four very different regions of the US: South Florida, Central Texas, Southeast Michigan and Washington, DC. You can imagine that the mainstream values in each of these locales differed considerably. But whether or not I shared those mainstream values, that was what my community would endorse in the educational system. Along the way, through my own education and in taking part in my daughter's, I realized that it was not the values that were taught in the schools that were important. What was most important was that no matter what the majority of concerned citizens around us valued, my daughter would learn from me the things I believed were correct. For myself, I wish I had gotten the benefit of other viewpoints and opinions than the ones I was taught at school. For my daughter, I've realized that my involvement in her life as a parent is far more important than my involvement as a mover and shaker in her community. But once someone else has taught your child a value, sometimes it is difficult to teach your child something very different.

Now, that's a more lengthy version of my stance and I'm still sticking to it. But I really want to hear from the rest of you. Think about it. Are you willing to have your children hear information that you vehemently disagree with in order for them to hear a balanced view? Or would you rather they be educated in line with your own values? Are the arts (literature, drama, music, visual) any different from social sciences or physical sciences? How does religion play into this, if at all? What do you think of the education at the college level?

~~~ For those of you out there who want more controversial discussion, stay tuned. Monday I will finally publish a post that has been rattling around inside my head and in various drafts for over a month. Annie Get Your Gun raises issues of racial discrimination; I have been wrestling with the marginalizing of biracial couples and mixed race children. ~~~

Should the arts be censored for teenagers?

The following post has been amended as of October 13, 2009, with changes and comments immediately following. A follow up post on October 16, 2009 addresses these amendments.

Last night I attended the first PTA meeting of the school year at Grace's school. I have been involved in this organization since before Grace finished 8th grade. Last year was my learning year, we could say. That is, I learned that organizations that have no profit margin or dollar amount placed on time tend to harbor lots of endless conversation and controversy. After a few months of participating, I learned how to protect my time and, to some extent, how to diffuse the energy from never-ending debates.

Last night there were several controversies. There was a 30-40 minute interrogation of the principal over her lack of sufficient communication to the school community after the first day of school regarding a potential criminal matter at a bus stop. Then there was more discussion regarding her past failure to post the daily announcements at the school's website. A last minute controversy began over how much of a voice the students have in matters like what type of food is served at the Homecoming dance and how much they should be emotionally supported by the PTA. And then one very concerned parent brought up the theatre department's choice of an annual school musical -- Annie Get Your Gun.*

The last parent, new to the school since her daughter is a freshman, expressed great disapproval of the musical. It glorifies the use of firearms and requires that we introduce weapons as props in a play. Further, women and native Americans suffer the ills of discrimination and inequality throughout the libretto.

Fair enough, these are valid points. And fair enough that the parent brought up these concerns at this point even though auditions for the musical began yesterday afternoon. When all is said and done, it's very unlikely that the theatre department will change their choice at this point. Consequently the discussion becomes one of values and opinions, rather than one that will effect real change. Still, the discussion rankled me. I was irritated. I was annoyed. I thought this woman was doing it for show, putting on airs so as to establish her superiority in the pecking order that is the PTA.

It was only later that I thought, why do I feel this way?

It was censorship. It's the idea that teenagers can't handle information.

For the purpose of my discussion here, let's abstract away from the issue that the school musical is an extracurricular activity that the kids are not required to participate in. There are plenty of things that students are exposed to in the name of education that could be construed as inappropriate along the same line of reasoning. If you've ever been in education, you know the laundry list of literature of all genres that has been subject to censorship in the curriculum. What is worse for students to read: Annie Get Your Gun or The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn? What about The Catcher in the Rye? The Taming of the Shrew? (Or God forbid, Kiss Me Kate.) The question of whether teenagers can handle discussion of sensitive issues has been out there for quite a long while. Some believe that all of the aforementioned titles should be banned from a school's curriculum. Others err of the side of liberalism and say none of it should be censored. And then there are the curious cases in which people nit pick on a case by case basis, reaching inconsistent verdicts for each work.

It bothers me considerably. I don't think that the school or the government or any other board should be censoring material. I think that's the job of parents. If my daughter is deeply involved in a theatrical production that has themes I don't agree with, I can take the opportunity to talk to her about those issues. That's my take on the issue.

When I was a senior in high school, I was the student director of the school's production of Oklahoma! Weapons, discrimination against women, yeah, they were in there. Heck, it was my great-grandfather's double-barreled shotgun that was used as a prop by Andrew Carnes. That's right, an actual firearm was used as a prop.** In one of the final scenes, we directed Will Parker to lasso Ado Annie and pull her to him, an act demonstrating that he had indeed won her over. No one objected. When Grace was in 8th grade, her middle school put on The Sound of Music. There, in middle of Act I, Leisl swung her body back and forth flirtatiously towards Rolf while singing the words, 'I need someone older and wiser telling me what to do. You are 17 going on 18; I'll depend on you.' I was concerned for the actress playing Leisl and hoped one of her parents took the opportunity to talk about her place in the world as a young woman. But still, I don't think the play should have been censored because of these lyrics.

If students don't encounter these works, these works that were contemporary in their time but that now are rightfully deemed discriminatory, how will students learn about the history of these issues? How will they develop the ability to recognize subtle forms of discrimination when they appear? How will they come to appreciate the progress we have made (or haven't) as a society? In short, if students have no access to these works, how will we begin a discussion with them about the issues they raise?

I don't know if my stance makes me a raving liberal or a staunch conservative. Since I want a hands off approach, that should make me conservative. But since we're talking about social issues and I'm advocating full access to information, that should make me a liberal. Who knows. But that's my stance and I'm sticking to it.


*I want to be sure to note here that the theatre director chose the 1999 revival version of the musical to put on, a revision of the script and libretto that significantly reduces the level of racial and gender-based discrimination. I'm not sure the objecting parent knows this.

**Granted, the barrel of the shotgun wasn't aligned correctly and the whole weapon weighed about 35 lbs. I doubt anyone could have used it effectively as weapon, much less even pick it up.

AMENDED ON OCTOBER 13, 2009
I received an email from the parent who voiced concern about the choice of Annie Get Your Gun as the choice of dramatic musical at Grace's high school. A colleague of hers found the blog on October 12 and forwarded her the link to this post. She notes several inaccuracies which I correct here. I always strive to accurately represent things here since bloggers get a lot of criticism for not checking their facts. In the interest of presenting the facts more accurately, please note the changes below. My apologies for any misunderstandings for any and all readers that may have occurred as a result of these errors.

• The child of this parent is a sophomore, thus she did know about the choice of the musical the previous spring. The concerns she raised in September have been brought up since last June.
  
• To clarify that my first impressions of her at the meeting were indeed incorrect, her motivation in bringing up these concerns at a PTA meeting was not to "put on a show, airs, or establish my superiority in the pecking order of the PTA." Rather, she is extremely busy and would prefer to be minimally involved in the organization.
  
• She was aware that the revised version of the musical was selected by the theatre director before making her objections.
• She reiterated in correspondence with me that she strongly disagrees that parents should have a "hands-off" approach as I advocate here.
  

Witches

Have you ever seen Into the Woods by Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine? If you haven't, you really should try to do so. At this point, the musical has not only had an original Broadway and original London cast, it's been reprised on Broadway in the early 2000s and toured extensively. Now it's become the ambitious show of choice for high theatre departments to put on. I had the joy of being 16 years old when I saw it the first time, when the Broadway production opened its first tour in Fort Lauderdale at Parker Playhouse. I'm afraid that first exposure spoiled me for anything less. It was perfect, amazing, and unforgettable.

The plot? Take a bunch of tradition fairy tales, give three-dimensional humanity to the characters and then intertwine their stories in a believable way. It's far too well done for me to even begin to summarize here, so I'll stick to the lead role, originally written for Sondheim's female diva and muse of choice, Bernadette Peters. The character? The Witch.

Now I know that through various artistic genres like musical theatre (Wicked!), contemporary fiction (Wicked: The True Story of the Wicked Witch of the West by Gregory Maguire) and children's literature (The True Story of the 3 Little Pigs!), we have become accustomed to seeing a traditionally evil character reframed in a different light. The new take on the antagonist is that they are grossly misunderstood by society and in the end are revealed to actually be virtuous and good. Sondheim and Lapine are far more creative and realistic than this. The Witch in Into The Woods is not good. She is not wholesome. She is somewhat misunderstood. But really, she's taking in the world around her and calling it the way she sees it. Her way of coping is brutal honesty and confrontation, whether that's with those seeking her help or with those who have tried to take advantage of her or with her own daughter.

Oh, did I forget to mention that detail? That The Witch has a daughter? Well, yes, yes she does. A daughter she dearly loves and protects. And this is a big part of her identity as a person.

Her daughter, as it turns out, is Rapunzel. You know, the witch who keeps Rapunzel locked away in a tower and won't let her see anyone else? Yeah, that witch is Rapunzel's mother in Into The Woods. I'll leave the rest of the origins of that relationship to those interested in looking into the whole plot of the story. She's keeping her daughter in a tower to protect her from the world. There comes a point where a prince comes to the tower and tried to steal the daughter away. Seeing a potential danger to her daughter, the witch hacks off the daughter's locks, tricks the prince, then knocks him to the ground below after blinding him. The daughter becomes hysterical and starts screaming. These are the lyrics to the dialogue that follows between mother and daughter:

"Stay With Me"

[WITCH]
What did I clearly say?
Children must listen.

[RAPUNZEL]
No, no, please!

[WITCH]
What were you not to do?
Children must see-

[RAPUNZEL]
No!

[WITCH]
And learn.

Why could you not obey?
Children should listen.
What have I been to you?
What would you have me be?
Handsome like a Prince?

Ah, but I am old.
I am ugly.
I embarass you.

[RAPUNZEL]
No!

[WITCH]
You are ashamed of me.

[RAPUNZEL]
No!

[WITCH]
You are ashamed.
You don't understand.

[RAPUNZEL]
It was lonely atop that tower.

[WITCH]
I was not company enough?

[RAPUNZEL]
I am no longer a child. I wish to see the world.

[WITCH]
Don't you know what's out there in the world?
Someone has to shield you from the world.
Stay with me.

Princes wait there in the world, it's true.
Princes, yes, but wolves and humans, too.
Stay at home.
I am home.

Who out there could love you more than I?
What out there that I cannot supply?
Stay with me.

Stay with me,
The world is dark and wild.
Stay a child while you can be a child.
With me.

The song makes me cry. I think it gets to the heart of it. This mother is trying so hard to cope with the best way to raise her child, and her child misunderstands. The mother lashes out and acts out of her own hurt and her own struggles. And she shares these feelings with her daughter. As it turns out, the irony of the story is that The Witch is right. The world IS dark and wild. In a moment of chaos in the kingdom, the prince who has married Rapunzel cheats on her while she is suffering from postpartum depression. She flees to the woods, never to be seen again. Not a good end to the story. It's not entirely clear that the daughter would have been any better off with her mother, who, partially out of her sorrow of watching her daughter suffer and mostly out of disgust at the pervasive evil disguised in the world around her, abandons the kingdom in their moment of need. But I think the person of The Witch as a mother and as a person is far too touching to simply write her off as a selfish quack.

I have, at different points these past few days, felt like The Witch. I have also felt like her daughter. I've spent the last week with my mother in town. Grace has also been here with me. I've been both a mother and a daughter since last Wednesday. It is an understatement to say that it has been confusing and emotional. It brings me right back to the root of why I started this blog: to explore my own childhood in the midst of being a mother and living through my daughter's childhood.

How can a single woman cope with loving her mother and trying to make her comfortable and happy while simultaneously needing to stand up for her own needs and dignity? How can one woman simultaneously love her teenage daughter and try to meet her needs while also feeling so weak and human and incompetent at the same time?

I will cut this short as the day is drawing to a close. My daughter is an amazing young woman. She is able to balance her emotions and respond maturely to difficult situations in a fashion far beyond her years. I am in awe of her.

I'm signing off until tomorrow...

Just a random question...

Did you like George Peppard better as Hannibal in the A-Team...


...or as "dah-ling" Fred/Paul in Breakfast at Tiffany's?

Talk about two sides of the same man.

Handling the boys

A couple weeks back someone who knew Grace at a younger point in her life asked me how she was. I told them about transition to high school and how that affects her social life. I told him about the most recent school dance at her school. He wanted to know whether Grace had a date. I said, "No, she's just not that into boys." I explained that she's definitely into putting up posters of celebrities and gossiping with her friends, but when it comes to actual boys, she's pretty wary.

And that's pretty much true. Her friends are into having boyfriends and going out on dates and all the rest, but she's not interested in that. For a while I thought that it was just that Grace ran with a group of kids whose parents were like me, so there was no chance 14-year-olds were going out on dates. But that turns out to be false. A little while ago when I was driving Grace and her friends to the mall, one of her friends was talking about her boyfriend. She was trying to explain to Grace and the other girls why she hadn't broken up with him yet. And then she quickly realized, I was in the car and listening to the whole schpeal. She asked me please not to tell her mom. Then she explained that her parents don't allow her to go out on dates. I asked for clarification -- she's going out out on dates with this boy...and her parents don't know about it? She's a pretty nice girl and with pretty attentive parents. I wanted to know, how is she getting out of the house at age 14 to go on dates with a boy without her parents knowing? She explained that she would ask them to drop her off somewhere, saying she was meeting friends. Only she wasn't meeting friends, she was meeting the boyfriend.

There's a great aside I have to interject here. I told Grace's friend that I wouldn't tell her mother, but I also told her that she needed to be careful and make sure she was safe. That was the most important. She completely misunderstood me. She quickly replied and told me that they weren't messing around or having sex or anything. I assured her that I was sure she wasn't because this group of girls was pretty smart and knew that wasn't a good idea at their age. No, I was talking about her physical safety, given that her parents were left in the dark about where she was and what she was doing. If no one knew where she really was and who she was really with, that meant she was on her own to take care of herself. I'm not sure she understood the point I was making.

So Grace is well in the loop when it comes to boys and dating and all the rest. She just doesn't want it for herself.

I suppose this might be evidence she actually listens to me and takes my advice. I told her at the beginning of this school year that if I were her, I would just stay aloof for all of high school. I explained that she could have just as much fun going out with groups of friends and having boys who are her friends as she could if she has one exclusive boyfriend. She listened, but I figured it went in one ear and out the other. Well, it turns out I was wrong.

I can imagine what's going through your head about now. You're wondering how I would ever know whether my daughter has a boyfriend. Maybe she has a boyfriend at school and she's just very careful about talking about it. She's not as careless as her friend was in conversation with me.

That's a good point. I've assumed for several years now that she has crushes. She had one last spring. Didn't turn into anything except a boy who is her friend. And I know she's kissed a boy before because she told me she did. She even went on a "date" while at camp last summer to the dance at the end of the session. And she gets hit on a lot. Sometimes she's oblivious. Most times she catches it because the boys are so bloody obvious at this age. But what's great is when you can catch her in the act of defusing the hit.

A few days ago, a boy she doesn't know sent her a note on facebook. They probably have a ton of friends in common on facebook because he goes to another local high school that a bunch of Grace's friends also go to. In the message, he went straight for the kill: "hey are u very outgoing cuz ur cute." She replied thanks, but do I know you? And then came the reply: "no but I wanna be friends are u busy this weekend?" She got right to it. Yes, she was busy, and she doesn't mean to be rude, but she doesn't go out with guys she's never met before. She goes on about her reputation and how it would be really awkward if she were known for meeting up with strange guys for dates because she wants to move to NYC and be an actress and all.

The exchange goes on for 12 more messages in which she strings a wild tall tale about how her father's family has this really raunchy reputation that she's been trying to live down and she's not going to ruin it now, and how she doesn't mean to be rude but she only meets friends at church and school and volunteer events and stuff, not over facebook, and how he really doesn't want to get her annoyed because she can be really pissy when she's annoyed. If the guy's really a stalker, he's not going to convince Grace to meet him somewhere. If the guy's just a freshman who wants a date, I don't think this is going anywhere.

Don't Ask How I Got Access To This Entire Dialogue And Left No Trace That Anyone Had Been Snooping Through The Private Inbox Of Grace's Facebook Account.

Joy in Music

If you've ever played a stringed instrument or had a child who did, and that student spent any amount of time at solo festivals or interacting with other strings students, you probably know the prelude from Bach's Suite #1 in G major for unaccompanied cello. In case the name of the short piece isn't ringing a bell, here is a video I found on youtube set to the recording Yo-Yo Ma made about 10 years ago.



I started playing cello when I finished 6th grade. I took lessons during the summer, then I joined the school orchestra in the fall of my 7th grade year. I played for three years and then left the orchestra for other artistic pursuits that had to do with writing, directing, and acting. I never hacked this song. I tried it, but I never got it even close to sounding like a song.

Piano was a different story. I played piano from the time I was 8 years old on. My piano teacher had been giving my older sisters lessons for several years and I was playing around on the piano at home more and more. See, I had learned how to read music at choir practice at church, and my sisters' beginner books were pretty easy to figure out. So I started trying to play piano on my own. My teacher had a policy not to start teaching children until they were 9 or 10. But in my case, she told my mother when I was in 2nd grade to set me up for summer lessons since otherwise I would develop bad habits that she'd only have to undo later. I loved playing piano. I got it. A song wasn't just notes and tempo and a few changes in dynamics. It was an expression of you, a way to communicate without ever using your voice. Once I got the notes down, suddenly I could take a piece and make it mine. It's not like I got everything right, and I have plenty of shortcomings when it comes to playing piano. But I knew what a song was supposed to sound like and when I made it sound the way I wanted, it was like being in heaven.

When I played the cello, I never felt like that. I knew what it was supposed to sound like, I just couldn't make it sound like that. I think after a few years, I gave it up because I just got tired of hearing bad music. My mom will say it's because I didn't practice, which is mostly true, but there was also a part of giving up that had to do with not having joy in the task.

The prelude from Bach's Suite #1 in G major is sort of a test to pass for strings students. It's a complex melody that doesn't come out if you just play the notes. If you don't believe me, watch this:



I mean, kudos to the pianist for mastering a fingering for the piece, but when you hear this after seeing what Yo-Yo Ma does with the exact same composition, you have to admit that this is not exactly an inspiring rendition, right?

Back to the test for strings students. Every single person who would judge a performance of this piece has heard it many, many, many times. They can practically sing it measure by measure in the shower. They've probably played it themselves. It's like Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata -- if you're going to perform it, you'd better get it right, because anyone who knows anything will hear every single mistake you make. The challenge for the student is not just to get the notes right and give it a suitable tempo and dynamics, but also to give the composition a piece of themselves. They want to give a unique rendition. It has to be their own unique expression of the piece, a moment in which the instrument becomes part of themselves and they completely control it in order to bring out the beauty that they hear in their heads before they even pick up the instrument.

This is the time of year when Grace has to audition for several orchestras, scholarships, and competitions on viola. She's usually pretty good at these things, knocking 'em dead. In fact, she usually gets placed in some very high chair in the section, only to get bumped back later because she doesn't practice enough or goofs off during rehearsals. This year she's been struggling with what to choose as a solo piece. It has to be something she can really master, but something that is equally challenging to her and demonstrates the full spectrum of her abilities. She has the music for all six of Bach's suites for unaccompanied cello transposed for viola. A few weeks back I suggested to her, why don't you try the prelude in the first suite?

When she began tackling the piece, she started the way she always does -- just pick up the instrument, play the notes on the page, and stop when you get to a part that is hard. After only a few minutes she realized that the notes were hard, so she put down the bow and started plucking through them. Then a few days later she started bowing through the piece. As far as I know, she's never heard a recording of the song. But there's something in her that recognized the passages that were the key points in the flow, the ones you really want to grab hold of and make powerful. Little by little, the song is sounding more and more like her own.

It is such a joy for me to hear her working through something and making it a personal part of her artistic expression. For me it is such a part of my human experience. To have her go through the same process and understand music is so dear to me.

Auditions for the spring musical. And other things too.

I've reached a difficult point with parenting. At the start of Grace's 8th grade year, we made decision that Grace would not be able to audition for the school play or participate in any way if she was not on honor roll. She didn't make honor roll (big shock). As it turned out, on the promise that good grades would follow, we allowed her to audition and she was in the play. Her grades continued to be abysmal all year. She was supposed to get a good grade in US History to be able to go on the end of the 8th grade trip to Washington DC. But in the end, we let her go and she finished the year with less than a C average in US History. We had to start making payments for the trip in October and I couldn't see the point in losing the money for nothing. When we were talking the other night at dinner, Grace couldn't name a US president other than those she had been alive through the presidency of (only two), Lincoln and Washington. You can see she missed a lot in that class.

She also wasn't doing so well in orchestra, either. She wasn't practicing. But she really wanted to go to music camp. She auditioned and got a scholarship, and we prepaid her fees, so in the end she got to go. This was despite the fact that she had to take a remedial math course during the summer that conflicted with the camp. She got special permission from the teacher of the summer course that if she had an A average by the time she had to leave for camp, she could go. So she went.

All in all, it wasn't a banner year academically or behavior-wise, and she got to do everything she wanted to do anyway. I have to defend myself a little, though; it's not like we threw the whole year out the window. Since her grades weren't great, we told her that in addition to her school work she needed to do some volunteer activity at least 4 hours a month and participate in a sport for every term. She did that, even though she really didn't want to.

In the end, I don't think we as a family really worked together as a team to help Grace do the best she could at school.

We decided to take things a little more seriously this year. We began the year and told her she couldn't audition for a play until we saw two consecutive grade reports where she had all As and Bs. She can do that; it's not below her abilities. And we told her that if she had difficulty in school to come to us and ask for help.

Well.

She didn't get As and Bs, as we all know. But she didn't come for help either. She sort of just checked out of the subjects she was having trouble with, then she started just not doing schoolwork anymore, and by the time I checked on it, she was really in trouble academically.

The theatre department puts on 4 productions a year. Two have already passed. And next week are auditions for the annual school musical, a production that involves every arts program in the school. There were orchestra auditions for pit orchestra. There are theatre auditions for acting parts. There are singing auditions for chorus and other vocal parts. It goes on and on.

In truth, I found out the real truth of what was going on at school because Grace asked me if she could audition. I told her no, not unless I could see some proof that her grades were pulling up. 5 school days passed...and Grace kept making excuses for why she couldn't bring home the grades. It was then that I knew something really bad was going on.

So. Grace is not allowed to audition for the annual musical.

Moving on: summer camp. Grace really would like to go to the arts camp she went to last summer and do not only orchestra, but also audition to do an additional session of theatre. It's not a cheap camp. And logistically it would be difficult to do this summer (read: Mom will be in her last trimester of pregnancy God-willing).

But...she's not really doing what she's supposed to do in orchestra. She's not practicing. And she's sitting last chair in the combined orchestra (read: worst in her instrument in the whole school) because she's not done her coursework and performance tests on time.

The early registration for camp that would mean hundreds of dollars cheaper registration is due this Friday.

Here are my current thoughts on the decisions that are at hand immediately. I know that a lot of Grace's poor performance at school has to do with untreated ADD, a situation that is currently being worked on. So it's not like it's reasonable to have expected her to achieve the kind of academic success we asked. Still, she didn't tell me she was having trouble. We clearly communicated what the consequences would be if her grades weren't good, and instead of coming to us for help when she had trouble, she decided to hide it. She sort of checked out of school, hoping that if she ignored those bad and missing assignments that they would go away.

I begged her to go to the guidance counselor at her high school before the school year started and ask for help. But she refused. She said she didn't need any help. When the first progress report came home poorly, we made an agreement that if the grades and the comments didn't improve by the time report cards came out, she'd go talk to the guidance counselor. The grades and comments didn't improve, and she didn't go to the guidance office to ask for help. So I went to her school two days before Christmas break and I talked at length with the guidance counselor, all the while begging Grace to just work with me on the situation. In the meantime, her grades were flat-lining and she wasn't doing homework hardly at all. That I didn't find out until Grace asked me about auditions for the annual musical a month later.

So here's what my current thinking is. She won't be able to audition for the annual musical next week, and it's unlikely she will be able to bring her grades up in time to audition for the last play of the year. And there's no way I can justify spending the time and money on performing arts camp given what little effort she's putting into the arts (some of them) at this point. I know she would love to do these things. I know she would adore the whole experience. I believe that she would grow.

Ugh.

I also know that I have to stick to my word and make her realize that her academics matter. You cannot become a successful Broadway actress if you don't know about your country or don't know how to do high school math or have the discipline to practice an instrument you are good at or don't remember to turn in your assignments for theatre class. Or if all of the above are true about you. At this point I think I have to insist that the academics come first. She has gotten to participate in plays and camp and all sorts of trips throughout middle school, and I'm not sure any of it helped in the end. I hope what really will help at this point is to stick to the plan.

So, no play auditions. And no arts camp. Just a year of hard work and creativity at home. That's all.

Philadelphia

Last Friday afternoon, Grace came home right after school and our chore for the afternoon before her father came to pick her up for the weekend was to pack up the Christmas decorations that had all made it to the den. I was, quite frankly, feeling like shee-ite, lounged on one of love seats in front of the tv. Since I wasn't helping with the packing at all, which was NOT part of the deal, Grace agreed to pack away the ornaments as long as she got to snack too (a big no-no in the den). While we were packing, we watched the film Philadelphia on tv. She'd never seen it before, and I thought she might like it since it was nominated for several Oscars and won two. We tuned in when Denzel Washington is examining one of his witnesses, a black woman who worked at the law firm being sued. This is the start of the court case. During the scene where Tom Hanks character and his partner are hosting a gay costume party and Denzel's Washington's character and his wife attend, Grace perked up and started paying attention.

This sequence of two or three scenes is perhaps the most moving bits of the film. I think the scene that Tom Hanks is listening to and translating "La mamma morta" from the opera Andrea Chénier was what was shown at the Academy Awards when they were announcing the nominees for the award of best actor. It is one of those scenes that I watch, and then without even realizing it is happening, the events of the scene hit me emotionally so deeply that I cannot help but begin crying.

Grace and I watched the scene together. Many times I encourage her to take in things like this to try and understand how one piece of art (the song in the opera) is used to enhance another piece of art (the plot of the film) and give it a deeper meaning. As we watched it, she asked what it meant, and I said that my best guess was that love is something that brings us such joy, but because true love is so precious, it often bring us deep pain. We talked about the way in which the narrative of the opera -- a daughter lamenting the death of her mother -- was being related to the the narrative of the film -- a gay man lamenting his own impending death in light of all that he loved about life. It brought to light that someone who was gay was not different from others. The emotions that we feel as humans are universal and transcend race, creed, national identity, age, and gender, as well as sexual preference.

The scene ends on an awkward note. The lighting returns to normal and we see Denzel Washington in solemn silence, unsure of how to react. He shuffles his papers together and while putting them into his briefcase explains that it's late and they should call it a night.

Grace asked me, "why is he so nervous?"

Wow. 16 years have passed since this movie was released. She watched the previous 15 minutes of the film: the oddity of Denzel Washington and his character's wife attending a gay party; the physical distance exercised between the two main characters; the way in which Denzel Washington bluntly told Tom Hanks that he was raised to think of gays as freaks and that he still thinks that way. Yet through all of this, she couldn't put herself back into a world in which being gay was dangerous. Just the idea that the film was made, released, watched, and awarded, was of enormous controversy outside of Hollywood. But Grace didn't live through this. She lived in a world post-Philadelphia. She was born a mere month before Tom Hanks received his Academy Awards for the role of Andrew Beckett. Her world is one where Ellen Degeneres came out on her sitcom and then went on to host the Academy Awards herself. A world where it is ok to be openly gay, even if you were a teen heart throb in a boy band.

Grace truly couldn't figure out why a professional attorney would be so uncomfortable in the situation of merely talking to a gay man. In 16 years, the world has changed so much that not only did she not find the scenario one that would be odd, she couldn't even figure out why it would be odd for anyone.

The world has changed. I know there is still a far way to go. But it is encouraging to me to see that my daughter really doesn't even have a knowledge of some of the "truths" my generation was raised to believe.

An upper

Exactly two weeks ago today Grace and I visited with her pediatrician. The next morning she started taking a medicine for ADD to see if it would help reduce her tendency to be distracted at school and also help her focus in the classroom. Before this, I had spent a lot of time wondering, worrying, and pining away at whether it was a good thing to use medication to treat ADD.

When I was an undergraduate studying psychology, one of my professors was discussing in an upper-level seminar the ability of children to pay attention and how this skill develops. He explained that the ability to pay attention is not an on-off switch, where you either have it or not, but rather a gradient spectrum where everyone lies somewhere along a continuum. As most traits, this trait falls into a standard distribution and some people fall into the outer tails, either being hyper-attentive or having a distinct lacking in the ability to pay attention. He asked the rhetorical question, "does that make people in the tails disordered?" Then he answered his rhetorical question, "I don't think so, but if someone gave my child a medication and told me it would help them do better in school, I'd be tempted to let them take it even though I didn't think anything was wrong with them."

Wow. I remember thinking, I guess medicine for ADD is a drug then! Like steroids or something! Just performance enhancing drugs for the mind!

I thought, if this professor I trust doesn't think ADD/ADHD is a real disorder, then I wouldn't drug my kid just because a school said she wasn't quite like everyone else!

Oh, I really wish I had skipped class that day. Or been less of a thinker in classes. Or doubted the authority of that professor. Or something else.

So, back to Grace. Two weeks later. The side effects are minimal. She says she's not very hungry midday, and that's about it. Otherwise, she's fine. But the question is, is it doing her any good?

Grace knows what she's taking the medicine for. She knows what it's supposed to help with. And sure enough, she reports she feels more calm and that she's able to concentrate and focus in class better. I keep thinking, placebo effect. As far as school goes, Grace and I didn't make a big proclamation at her school of her beginning the medication. We just said in a meeting that there had been a diagnosis and that her pediatrician had prescribed a low dosage of a stimulant.

Two days ago I sent an email to Grace's teachers asking them about parent-teacher conferences the next night. I assumed that there was nothing more that we needed to meet about, but I wanted to make sure before I skipped the event altogether. (Afterall, I have been known to skip these things as the school year progresses because at some point the teachers' vexation with Grace boils over the top and oozes on to me, and I would just as soon not listen to that if I'm not required to.)

I didn't expect much back in terms of replies except for a couple, no-don't-worry-about-its or maybe one thank-you-for-your-concern-I-am-still-having-problems-with-Grace-but-you-already-know-about-that-and-I-doubt-it-will-improve. Instead, I got some interesting replies.

From Grace's orchestra conductor:

"I wanted to let you know that I have seen huge improvements with Grace and orchestra over the last few weeks. She seems more focused and has been playing a lot more. She has been aware of where we are starting and has improved on her testing as well. For instance this week she scored a 95 on her playing test and was able to play it at the appropriate speed. I just heard Grace try to redo her performance test and I have sent her back to the practice room to continue to improve. She gets better each time I hear her. I have also told her that if her stand partner is distracting her she may move her chair and her stand someplace else so that she can be successful. I just wanted to touch base with her and let you know that I have noticed more focus and concentration out of Grace this week and last."

From her theatre teacher/coach:

"I would love to share with you an observation I made yesterday in class. The students are working on 3 person scenes to receive extra credit (and to help students who have scored poorly on the written exams). Grace and her group asked me to look at what they were doing and I was amazed at how quickly Grace had memorized her lines! Not only her lines but the energy, commitment and emotion all of the girls used in the scene was evident."

This was volunteered to me in email. All I asked was whether they would like Grace and I to attend parent-teacher conferences tonight. I didn't ask about her progress or if they noticed any difference; I didn't ask any leading question. I didn't fish for this information. The teachers just volunteered it.

I forwarded the messages to Grace and both my husband and I congratulated her on doing such hard work and putting good effort in at school. I'm not sure if it was just that magic turning point in Grace's life or if the medicine helped. Or if the pill had a placebo effect on her and that helped her reach the magic turning point. Or if we're witnessing dramatic improvement that may wane. But wherever the truth lies, it is really good to hear positive news from Grace's teachers. I suppose she must feel the same way.

Confounding variables

So ADD it is. Apparently things are ok for now in the treatment of that disorder. The main thing we are trying to focus on improving at school is completing every assignment and turning it in on time. Actually, turning it in at all, but if Grace can finish it and turn it in on time, all the better.

And then, an old reminder rears its ugly head. Tests and quizzes. Examinations.

I'm one of those moms who has had too much experience in education and psychology and teaching. I see the grades and the numbers and the performance and I can't help but start evaluating the whole situation. Then I start forming hypotheses. Then I get in the picture and start trying to problem solve. I've said it before -- I'm one of those parents who asks a lot of questions, and wants good answers. I'm not pretentious or rude or patronizing, I just figure if I know the jargon, then meet the educators where they are and talk to them in a way that I know how to. Also, I want to include my daughter in the process and have her understand the jargon, not just have things being said about her and have the words and ideas zoom right past her because they are not being said in a user-friendly kind of way.

Back to tests. Grace is really really bad at being tested. This has cost her a lot in classes with teachers who place a heavy weight on test and quiz scores. English in 7th grade -- F because she never passed her weekly vocabulary tests. Math in 6th grade -- complicated as to why she didn't do well, but mostly attributable to a teacher who ruled with an iron fist and placed a big weight on tests. F. Same in US History in 8th grade. I studied with her for three hours one night for a test. Next day? F on the test. Science in 8th grade. Saved by labs and the science fair. But tests? Straight Fs. Now she's meeting her match in Algebra. Her teacher says she's so frustrated because Grace will know a concept and roll through the problems one after another right in front of her. Then on the test? F. And I don't mean a subtle F. On the last round of tests in Algebra, she got 1 point of 30. That's right -- she scored a 3% on the test. Two performance tests in orchestra this term. Performance, which she ain't bad at. Score? F...and an F.

Then came theatre. The shining light in her day. The class she loves. The class she cannot stop talking about. First test - F. Second test, given yesterday -- F.

Am I frustrated? Yeah, you could say that. It means this is outside of ADD, for all intents and purposes. If she can't transfer the knowledge she has in her head into an examination setting, she's sunk. Really. She probably won't be able to graduate. I'm not sure what the solution is, but I am facing the possibility that something else is going on. Which means more evaluation and testing. And more changes. And things Grace may not like.

I talked to her honestly and openly last night at dinner. I told her I was frustrated and scared, scared because I didn't know how to help her. I told her I was nervous because I wasn't sure she was aware of the problem. I asked her, please, come to us for help! Go to your teachers! Ask them for help! Ask them for information. Ask them exactly what will be on tests, ask them how they will format the test, ask them precisely how you should study, ask us at home for help, get into it!

Then I sent her an email this morning. I told her ideas of how to study. I told her, make a blog. Don't publicize it, just make it. When you're studying for something, just put all the facts in there, make them come alive. Think of different ways to present the ideas.

Or memorize the facts and act them out like you're on stage.

Or draw a picture on drawing paper or on the computer. Use any media you like. Like think, how do I visually present a quadratic equation? How could I use the picture to learn what I need to remember?

Or...

or...

or...




I feel like I'm trying so hard, Grace is trying in her own way, and we are both failing. Quite literally. I told her last night, we do this every year, right? You start the year and try to do it on your own. Somewhere around Christmas time, it comes out that you're not pulling it together. Then we go into massive intervention mode. Somewhere in the spring we all get exhausted and give up. Then the end of the year is horrible, maybe there's summer school, and we start over again the next fall. Then I asked her, how can we stop doing this? How can we nip this in the bud and get everyone else out there to realize, you are a smart person who can learn and be competent?!!?

Suggestions are welcome. For the educational problem Grace is facing and for the emotional problem of mom.

On the bright side of this, my kid is damn talented. Everyone who's seen her blog agrees -- she's a damn good writer and very good at figuring out how to put together a layout and make it aesthetically pleasing. And all this with absolutely no adult intervention. No adult pushed her to do it or helped her with it in any way. She's making a PSA for her English class right now. And she's doing a really good job. Still photos, video, audio (speech, music, and sound effects), all put together into a 2-3 minute project. Really good. She's amazingly sensitive to putting together her outfits and being stylish. And as you all know, I am not the one who bestows gifts of designer trends. She shops secondhand shops and puts it together in her own way, her own creativity of combination and judgment. And it looks great. She creates visual art on her computer that is far beyond her years. She's got the goods, ladies and gentlemen, and that's why it kills me to see her held back by a system. HOW TO GET PAST THE SYSTEM, I ask. HOW?

An update on school and ADD/ADHD

We have a diagnosis of ADD from Grace's pediatrician. And some controlled substances in our home to deal with the symptoms of that. The doctor said, 'this is not a magic pill. You have to come up with other strategies to deal with all the effects of this problem.'

Yesterday, Grace and I met with a few people at school to talk about what she could do to be consistent in completing her work. The group was her assistant principal, her guidance counselor, one of her teachers, Grace and me. The meeting went well, and I applaud her assistant principal. I realize I forced this group to do something different: to include the student they are talking about in the discussion and planning process. Her assistant principal was great. I'm a very very picky mom when it comes to these kinds of things because in a former life I was one of the professionals on these teams, trained in how the meetings should be conducted and the reports should be written. Anyways, the asst. principal didn't even blink. He rolled right through the meeting and addressed Grace directly throughout the whole hour and a half. (YES! AN HOUR AND A HALF!)

The resolution was to help Grace figure out ways to stay interested in the classroom and finish the work that she finds 'boring.' The bottom line is, she needs to always get some intrinsic and extrinsic motivation going on. We're meeting again in 4 weeks to check her progress on implementing the motivations.

I had some other thoughts after the whole meeting was over. We talked about delayed gratification and long term goals. Grace explained the way she sees her problem. She said that if she were in college studying theatre, she would feel like her work in other classes wouldn't be so bad to keep at. Being at college would mean that she was working towards her goal of being on Broadway. But while she's in high school, that goal is far away and she doesn't feel like the work she's doing in science or math is really getting her anywhere. In other words, the end goal is just too far removed from her day to day tasks to keep her motivated.

(Really, I'm not putting words in her mouth. That's what she told the committee.)

There was a small bit of a negative reaction to her saying that her goal was to be an actress on Broadway. Now, I know that most people (me included) hear things like this and think, 'what a dreamer. Get your head out of the clouds! Stop being so unrealistic and wake up to the world around you!' This is especially the case if the child is not performing well academically. I think that's exactly what the reaction yesterday conveyed. But I suddenly realized something yesterday. If Grace loved science and wanted to be a doctor, she would say her goal was to cure cancer. If Grace loved history and debate and wanted to go to law school, she'd say her goal was to be a Supreme Court justice. The point is, no matter what Grace found as her passion in life, she would dream big. But because her passion is arts and theatre, she is not taken as seriously as she would be if her passion were a field that is more practical, more respected, more mainstream. Indeed, if Grace wanted to be a Supreme Court justice and she was really good at debate and history, but she struggled with math and orchestra and she wasn't reliable at turning in her assignments in any class, I don't think her superiors would scoff at her quite so readily. They scoff because her ultimate goal is to do something they find frivolous, expendable, unnecessary.

I ask you, how should the educational system deal with students who have big dreams but are struggling with how to reach those high goals? No one doubts Grace has the ability to do well in school; her assistant principal told her yesterday he expects that her grades will be mostly A's if she keeps herself focused and turns all her assignments in reliably. Given this, should we continue to smirk at her pie in the sky ideas of moving to NYC and being an actress someday? Would we do the same if she wanted to cure cancer but couldn't stay focused in history class?

Another high point of the meeting was when her assistant principal asked her how she could stay motivated and focused every day in order to reach the big goals (like good grades at the end of a term). She explained that she had read Michael Phelps' book over her winter break and learned a lot about how anyone needs to make incremental goals in order to reach the big goals. In order to make sure he made it to the Olympics and performed the best her could at those games, Michael Phelps and his coach set regular goals for time trials, and smaller still for times in the practice pool, and smaller still for how many laps and sets every day. By doing this, they could see that every stroke in the pool mattered towards reaching the end goal. Grace told the committee that she wanted to figure out what her incremental goals should be in her school work, and that she needed help.

Was I impressed? Yes, I was. As was her assistant principal. He took the tidbit and ran with it. I didn't notice how the others reacted, but I was proud of her. What would have happened if someone had told Michael Phelps he was wasting his time in the pool when he was 10 and failing out of school? What if someone had told him he would never make it to the Olympics because he couldn't even keep himself together to bring everything he needed to practice or show up to his meets on time? Isn't he lucky that his mother believed in him and that he had a coach that was willing to work with him, despite his ADHD? Yeah, it was hard for him, but that didn't stop him. And he has a college degree now and quite a few other accolades to his name. Thank goodness people didn't stop at his lack of motivation in the classroom and convince him to give up on his big dreams.

You see where I'm going with this, right? It's not that I think Grace will be the next Broadway star or anything like that. It's that I think she has goals and she thinks big, and telling her she can't achieve those big goals because she has underlying problems with organization and attention won't help anything. Quite the opposite, this kind of reasoning and argumentation could really hurt her badly. So I think I'm changing my philosophy of parenting. Find your child's passion and run with it. Never tell them they can't achieve what they've set in front of themselves as a goal. Yes, deal with the shortcomings they have and the struggles they face. But don't ever suggest that they can't overcome those things or that they will interfere with their dreams. Maybe they will, but telling them so won't help anything. Life is hard enough of a teacher to us all; we don't need parents to add to our discouragement.

Not gonna google it

I was just reading the who's who of who in the entertainment industry died this year. I hit Heath Leger and read that after his performance in Brokeback Mountain, some reviewers and critics likened him to a young Marlon Brando. And then I thought, is Marlon Brando still alive?

It's not like I don't know anything about him. I like his work a lot. So he's a little socially odd; I might be too if I got so much attention for so many years. Despite this, I cannot remember if he's dead or not.

My instinct tells me no. If Marlon Brando had died, I would remember it happening. I read the news pretty regularly from several different sources. Still, I can't be certain.

Now, he's the task. If you KNOW whether Marlon Brando is alive or dead, let me know. You can't cheat and google it. And you can't check another resource either. It's like a crossword puzzle; you're on your honor as to whether you check a resource. No one will know whether you did it. But if you do, you're a cheater.

Yesterday I had a similar experience -- what was the name of the kid in the Willy Wonka novel/movie who was German? (Or was it Austrian?) The one who ate so much and gets sucked away in the river of chocolate? The last name was Gloop, but what was his first name? I didn't google it, but I did look in my iTunes library through the list of songs soundtrack to the Tim Burton version of the film. So that was cheating. If you know without cheating, you can comment that too. And you can tell me whether you like Gene Wilder or Johnny Depp better as Willy Wonka.

Take it when no one else is looking

When I was 14, I brought my walkman to school and it was stolen before school while I wasn't looking.

When Grace was 12, she brought $100 cash to school to make a payment for a school trip. Her purse was lifted between classes when she put it on the ground between her feet. The purse was recovered by the end of the school day; the cash was gone.

I had a friend in elementary school who came over to my house frequently. After she went home, things turned up missing. Worse, the things showed up later, like her wearing my bracelets or earrings or rings to school the next day. If I confronted her, she would say "you gave me this!" and then would accuse me of being an indian giver.

This past spring, during a performance of Grace's middle school's spring musical, two girls had their razor phones stolen from within their personal possessions during one of the musical numbers. The conclusion was it had to have been staff of the school because all the girls were on stage at the time of the theft.

When I was 15, I brought my SECOND walkman to school. It was stolen while I wasn't looking. (I had a hard time learning my lesson...)

Two nights ago, during a school orchestra performance, a $400+ video camera was stolen from Grace's high school. The school staff are emailing parents and students to find out if anyone has information about it; maybe one of the students has it and just forgot to tell a teacher.

I could keep going on and on. When the $100 incident with Grace's purse happened, I was furious. I came to her school at the end of the school day, stood in the hallway and went on and on and on. I asked whether the principal was going to call the police to investigate. Grace told me about a girl in her school who was really rich -- she had 3 iPods and 4 cell phones. My husband and I asked Grace whether it was possible that this girl was stealing the stuff; afterall, her own purse had been stolen by someone who was in very close proximity to her.

To be frank, it's not difficult for me to believe the kids get involved in drugs and alcohol and sex early on. But it's another jump altogether for me to think of theft. This isn't crime for the sake of wanting to do something taboo; this is crime for crime's sake. It's not like when you are 10 or 12 and you steal a purse or a walkman or a cell phone or an iPod that you don't know you're doing something wrong. But why are you doing it?

Another pet peeve of mine about these episodes is how much in denial some adults are. Like the cell phone theft during the musical. The cell phones were taken from exactly the place they had been tucked away, and nothing else in the vicinity had been touched. Clearly the thief knew what they were after and exactly where to find it. Sounds like someone who was in the room, right? Like someone 12? 13? Am I right? So why do the adults not even entertain this possibility?

I stole one of those Brach's candies from the bins in the grocery store once when I was a kid. I felt so guilty. But that didn't stop me. I walked right out of that grocery store with my mom and sisters, covertly stuffed that candy in my mouth, and tried to enjoy it. I'm sure everyone has a similar story. But for me there is a hard line between stealing something trivial from a store that you can't resist because you're 4 or 5-years-old and stealing something of great value from someone you know. How does that happen? You see it, you see that it belongs to someone else, and you take it? What for? And what for when you are only 10 or 12?

Could someone help me out with this? Do kids who steal big ticket items like this when they are a kid turn out to be shoplifters? What happens after that? What do shoplifters turn into? Are these the same people who pirate music and movies or is that an entirely different kind of thing?

Should I do it?

The Rooster has just joined facebook.

Should I friend him?

Good teachers are a gift.

I recognize that my kid may not be the dream-come-true student for many teachers. She talks too much, she gets distracted, and she has a difficult time paying attention to something she doesn't find interesting. In many ways she is a square peg in the round hole that school presents to her. Thus when she gets a good teacher, I jump up and down in excitement because I know this one is worth their weight in gold.

Grace has an amazing collection of teachers this year. I really cannot say enough about this. You know, you go through years of schooling as a student and as a parent and sometimes you hit some real duds, so when you get a good one, you know it. I, for one, am the first one to tell a good teacher thank you. I know teaching has its ups and its downs and that on some days and with some students it is really a pain. I really cannot do enough for my child's teachers to encourage them that I really am appreciative for all that they do.

One teacher in particular stands out this year -- Grace's science teacher. I can't say enough about him. He is magnificent. He has so many excellent ideas about philosophy of life, er, I mean, philosophy of teaching (is there a difference?). This weekend when I read his weekly newsletter in my email inbox, I couldn't help but yell out in exuberance, "oh, YES!"

On the second page, with a bright red header, he included a short 300 word blurb about ways parents should encourage students who are less than enthusiastic about doing their schoolwork (read: slackers who text message and facebook all day instead of finishing their schoolwork). The teacher wrote, if a parent is threatening to take away privileges (like cell phone use) yet not following through on the threat, the parent is wasting their time. Rather, do what you need to do (like take the cell phone away) and say 'get to work and all will be good again.' Yes, teens will argue and yell and tirade about the swift actions rather than threats, however parents should use the line "I love you too much to argue." Similarly, the teacher uses the line "I respect you too much to argue."

I knew he was good before this tidbit, but oh, I was elated to finally see a teacher who wasn't just talking straight to parents about a philosophy of parenting but also implementing this philosophy in the classroom! Let me explain. Sometimes when I get a phone call from a teacher about a problem with Grace at school, I sense that the call is simply a gripe session. The teacher has called not just to inform me the parent of what the situation is, but to recuse themselves of the situation and place the responsibility for the events solely in my hands. While I agree that parents and discipline at home does have an effect on school behavior and performance, not every problem at school has its roots at home. When I sense that a phone call is developing towards a blame game, I ask the teacher, 'what do you do in your classroom about the situation?' If there is not a satisfactory answer, I explain what we do at home, and encourage the teacher that I will have their back if they are extra strict on my daughter in areas that are causing a disruptions in the classroom. That's usually the last phone call I get.

Word has it that in the district, I am a "tough" parent who "asks hard questions." That's good. I want teachers who ask hard questions too. I want cooperation between home and teachers and schools, not an assumption that teaching is all the school or all at home.

See, I am the parent who took away the cell phone. And the iPod and the Nintendo DS. And the Video Now. And locks the channels on the tv when I'm not at home. And password protects the wireless internet in the house. I limit phone calls on school nights, I make sure my kid dresses in a way for school that doesn't distract her or others. I'm the one who told her that no matter how much she wants to be a professional actress, she is not allowed to audition for a play until I see two consecutive grade reports on honor roll. And if she doesn't pass French this term with a B or higher, she's not even getting to take the theatre course.

I make sure that at every turn I remind her that her education is important and should be prioritized.

I had Grace read the teacher's blurb. About halfway through she started smirking. By the time she got to the end she was smiling. I told her I loved her and it looked like she had a super teacher who really cared about her success in school and in life. Then I emailed the teacher to thank him. He replied "Hey, thanks for the positive comment on the newsletter and my philosophy in the class. Grace is great in class."

Oh, YES!!!!!!!!! Grace is great in class! It happened! It finally happened! I contacted a teacher of Grace's and the reply was POSITIVE!!! YES YES YES YES YES YES!!!!!!!!!

I didn't realize how dry the desert was out there looking for a positive sign from her teachers. Over the years I have developed an ability to always find the silver lining in whatever her teachers communicate to me. Because all of what they communicate is negative. I never get a note home that says, "Grace is great in my class." I never get a teacher seeing me and approaching me to talk about Grace in a positive way. My correspondences with Grace's teachers have always been tainted with something that needs to be improved, changed, remedied, etc. I wish I could say that I am overgeneralizing on this, but alas, I am not. I have never gotten an unadulterated compliment of my daughter's performance or behavior or person from one of her teachers.

I don't think I realized how down I was about this. I'm sure Grace has felt my emotions about this. I'm sure it hasn't helped her to be working in an environment that projects this negativity upon her (both home and school).

So, two lessons learned. First, as a parent, stand by your kid. No matter how much negative feedback you get from the school, no matter how much you have to reprimand you kid to get them on track, no matter how frustrated you feel about the situation, stand by them and encourage them. You may be the only one who communicates this positive message to them. Second, as a teacher, remember that the problem student in your class may NEVER have had a teacher or coach or scout leader or counselor or anyone ever tell them they were good at something. If you approach them as someone who needs fixing, you just add to the negative message. You are not the one they have been waiting for who is going to send the right harsh message to get their butt in gear; rather, you are probably the 10th or 20th or 100th person to think you are so enlightened. These students especially need positive messages.

Tomorrow, I have a feeling we're going to delve deeper into Heather's experience as a childhood troublemaker.

Superstar

When I was in 4th grade, I was a bit of a paradox in the school setting. Very messed up in some ways but very dynamic in others. I can remember some of my best kudos from teachers came from that year, and also some of my worst disasters as far as discipline. I'll talk about my successes today because that's more uplifting.

I started writing short stories and dramas in 4th grade. The first composition was a story about a girl named Alice and the story was aptly named, Alice. (I think I was getting my inspiration for story titles from Beverly Cleary.) I typed Alice up one Saturday afternoon at home on my grandmother's hand-me-down typewriter. Very schnazzy. In the story, Alice gets in trouble at school for making cherry bombs and in the end has a fun afternoon with one of her friends. Three pages typed, single-spaced, in a standard serif font. I brought the newly-created composition to school and showed it to a friend. She liked it. Another friend asked to read it. By the end of lunchtime it had made the rounds to 6 girls and afternoon classes started with me trying to covertly assemble a list for the three more waiting to read it next. My homeroom teacher realized something was afoot and wanted to know what was the buzz was about. When she found out, she stopped teaching science, asked for the story, and then read it aloud to the class. Oh, yeah. I felt like a movie star. A few weeks later in language arts, my teacher gave us the assignment of writing a short 10-minute or so play. From all the scripts, four would be selected and the author would cast, direct, and act in their play. At this point I was feeling a little high from my success of Alice, and I banged out a good sketch about a girl who has difficulty telling the truth. It was chosen to be performed, and I cast my good friend Beth to play the part of the girl. I, of course, as the director wouldn't dream of taking the lead -- I played the part of the mother. Also I was taller than Beth so it made sense.

Now I was a celebrated writer and playwright, at least by 4th grade standards. About this time came to icing on the cake: the elementary school spring musical performance. Every year the musical director of the elementary school would select one of those shows that included 10-15 songs, a quick drama sketch between each song, and add a few good spicy extras to jazz it up and get every single elementary school student involved. When I was in 4th grade, the show was the Easter story told from the perspective of the animals. Looking back on it now as an adult, it was a little goofy. I mean, it was the Easter story acted out by two donkeys, three sheep, a rooster and a hen. Oh, and a narrator. The students who got the speaking parts in the drama segments were hand-selected from one grade level. And when I was in 4th grade, my class got chosen.

Out of all the 4th graders, I and a few other students were chosen to read for a part, so I excitedly left the normal music class and went to a different classroom with a few other students to try out. I was handed a script and told to read one paragraph of the narrator. I thought, a narrator? Who wants to be a narrator? My friend Greg read after me and got the part. Then they asked me to read for the part of the hen. No contest, I became Hen.

The hen had the smallest, but undeniably the most unforgettable, part. She was the comic relief. I mean, let's face it, the Easter story is a little bit of a downer, right? The hen has to listen to a rooster talk about Peter betraying Jesus and the sheep lament the mystery of where the white one went to. You gotta throw a little entertainment in there to keep hundreds of parents from falling asleep. So here's how the scene with the comic-relief-Hen was written and directed:

The scene opens and the yellow lights come up. Rooster walks on stage and gives his familiar annoying "cock-a-doodle-doo! Get out a bed, you sleepy heads!" and a bit more of a poetic jingle that only a morning person could endure. Hen (me) trudges out on stage, yawns and gives her first line: "Alright! Alright! I'm up! I'm up! Almost three years of marriage and he hasn't let me sleep in once!"

I had 12 more lines in that scene, and then it was over, and then I could retreat to backstage and giggle for the rest of the show. We practiced twice a week. I had those lines down cold. I even started throwing in some of my grandmother's southernisms, drawing out my vowels and adding annoyed tones of womenly whining. By the time we got to showtime, I was ready.

Cut to the chase: lights came up, rooster gave his loud wake-up call and the audience sat quietly (bored). I walked out exactly as we had rehearsed and gave my first line.

"Alright! Alright! I'm up! I'm up! Almost three years of marriage and he hasn't let me sleep in once!"

The audience exploded into laughter immediately.

Huh? Laughter? What am I supposed to do with this? I just practiced saying my lines and getting the scene over with! I realized, I gotta improvise here and not say my lines quite so fast. I gotta give 'em time to take it all in! By the time we got to the end of the scene I realized I could just pause before my lines when all the other animals looked at me and the audience would start laughing.

It was a riot. The whole show was audio-recorded and broadcast on the school's radio station in the next week. It wasn't until I heard it again that I realized how well people reacted.

That line stayed with me until high school graduation. People remembered the lines, the costume, the southern lilt, everything. "Rooster's" dad taught at the school and reminded me of that scene over and over and over. I had never had so much fun in my life. It was my moment of "superstar."

When was your moment of superstar? That moment you believed you could do anything?

Scary

OK, that bit that Sarah Palin did live on SNL last night? I think Dick Cheney saying those things would have been funnier than she was, and that's saying a lot. I have never seen better evidence that people are truly afraid of what she could do if given power.

I saw it live, and now I've seen the video up on the web. I swear they've altered the video to put an applause track at the beginning. I don't remember people clapping, but rather being rather still and hushed as if thinking, what's this?

Oh, YES! Yes, Yes, YESSSSSS!!!!!

You know, sometimes I think that people out there, big people out there, do things just so that I can note them here at my humble blog, Comparative Childhood. And today, one of America's FAVORITE child actors, Ron Howard, did it! He resurrected not only Opie, but Richie Cunningham! And what is he doing? He, along with Henry Winkler AND Andy Griffith are stumping for Obama while reviving our favorite television characters!

You know you grew up on one of these two shows, you know you did. You know you loved 'em. You know that when you're scrolling through the hundreds of stations available now that you can't help but stop if you catch a sight of footage from Happy Days or The Andy Griffith Show.

I just wish Aunt Bee were still around to see what her Opie has done for us all.

See more Ron Howard videos at Funny or Die