Meddling, being honest, and how to keep friendships

Grace was at music camp last week. Choir concert, Grace looked and sounded great, I loved seeing her enjoy herself. Last night she told me that there was some drama during her week away. You know, the kind where the girls all talk late at night in their cabin and one girl confesses her undying love for a boy? And then some of the girls decide to intervene, you know, to help the fledgling lovers out? 'Cause their communication is breaking down? Except that by intervening, the girls make things worse. By the end of the trip, the one girl who was in love asked Grace what she thought of her. Grace was more than blunt. She told her she was being bitchy.

Did I mention that Grace didn't know the girl a week earlier? That she's an incoming freshman?

I told Grace she might not want to be so brutally honest with the girl. And that she shouldn't meddle. I don't know whether Grace is going to take my advice.

The whole story threw me back to my own middle school and high school experiences. (I confess, getting an invite to my 20th high school reunion this week helped the speed of my total recall significantly.) Remember when it was so exciting to be "in the know"? To be the one who was the facilitator? The helper? The one who was just trying to make everyone happy? I do. I seem to also recall stirring up quite a bit on controversy. Which was also exciting.

The point is, being the girl who was meddling oftentimes meant I was the one who caused unpleasant situations to come about. In the midst of my conversation with Grace about the situation, I told her that there are precious few times in which it's worth telling someone what you really think of their romantic inclinations towards another person. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I started challenging my own advice.

Is that true? As an adult, there are so many of my girlfriends who have gone through dating and marriage and divorce and cohabiting and reuniting...and on and on and on and on it goes. Most recently, one of my longest-term friends asked me to meet her boyfriend. Her idea was that I am one of her dearest friends, one of her closest and most intimate friends, and someone whose judgment she trusts. She wanted my opinion on the boyfriend. It's not the first time she's asked. Anyways, the end of the story is that I told her I thought he was great. Was that the truth? I ask you a more relevant question: Does it matter what my opinion of her boyfriend is?

Being honest with a close friend, especially about someone they are involved romantically with, is dangerous stuff. When you're in love, when you're physically close with someone, you really don't want to hear an objective opinion on what someone outside of the relationship thinks of your lover. Sure, you want to hear that your lover is great, fantastic, friendly, kind, smart, clever, funny, generous, thoughtful, or talented. That's the feedback you're looking for -- a confirmation that, in spite of your giggling and silliness and inability to see things objectively, you are being wise and smart and making good choices. But when you're in love, when your heart is spilling over with admiration and adoration of another human being, you don't wanna hear anything negative about him.

So here's my dilemma. When is it safe to be honest with a friend regarding a lover? There are clear times, like if he's abusive or extortive. But what if he's just a jerk? What if you question his ethics? What if he just rubs you the wrong way, over and over and over again? What if you just don't click with him? I find myself weighing the value of what I think is best for a friend versus what is really best for that friend. So what if I don't agree with someone's politics or ethics? Or if I find them a jerk? Does that outweigh a friend's potential for unlimited happiness? Isn't it a bit arrogant of myself to believe that my long lasting friendship with someone is more valuable than someone else's relationship with her?

Of course, there is the other side to this dilemma. Live and let live, que sera, sera, and such. It's so easy to stay out of someone's business. So much easier than speaking your mind and risking the backlash. Then the question of what is more important is between my comfort and a friend's well-being.

Where does the line lay? Is there any way to formulate a rule that works in every situation?

I would love to hear the stories out there. One friend has already given me her sad experience, the moral of the story being, NEVER tell someone what you think of their lover. EVER. And the story really was very, very sad. Another friend, one who was separated from her husband when he was exploring the kinky side of middle age, she just reunited with him after six full years of feuding. They are happy as ever. Unfortunately, I was brutally honest with her and way over-involved in their complications. Now I'm wondering if we'll ever get the intimacy of our friendship back.

I'm just trying to figure out what I should tell Grace, you know? 'Cause like every good parent, this really has nothing to do with me (wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say-no-more, say-no-more).

Honest Scrap Award

ONE MONTH AGO, Crys at Modifying Motherhood gave me an award. I thanked her right away and thought, 'thank goodness I have an idea for an upcoming post.' Um, yeah, right. I don't think "upcoming" translates into ONE MONTH LATER. But Crys is a great sort of person, or, rather, I imagine she is face to face since she seems to be a great sort of person as I see her through her writing. So I'm sure she understands that I don't mean any offense by taking ONE WHOLE MONTH to accept this award and pass it on.

Here goes.

Crys gave me the Honest Scrap Award. Sounds nice, eh? I'm supposed to list ten things that you probably didn't know about me. Then I pass the award along. Easy 'nuff. Here is my list:

1. When I was in high school, I was in love with England. I wanted to travel there. I wanted to move there. I thought everything about England was amazing. I knew every single fact about the British royal family and the Beatles that there was to be known.
2. When I was in middle school, around 1984, I thought Michael J. Fox was about the most amazing thing in the entire world. I would have done anything to see him in person. I couldn't imagine that anyone was more fantastic. Then the crush waned. Then about 1998 I told someone how much I liked him as an actor. And that person said, 'yeah, but what has he done lately?' Oh. My. And now? More than ten years later? I respect him and love him even more. He is, in the language that Mrs. G would use, my secret boyfriend.
3. I was a cheerleader in middle school. I would have done anything to be a cheerleader forever and be an 'it' girl. When I tried out in high school I was cut for the squad because I couldn't do a split.
4. I tried yoga for the first time when I was 24. I was really good at it. I apparently am very flexible. I never really did yoga after that. I should.
5. I bite my fingernails. And my toenails.
6. I love Project Runway. I find those designers very talented.
7. I don't understand poetry at all. It's not that I dislike it, I just don't have the ability to understand it.
8. For reasons I cannot explain, I don't like U2. I can't think of any song by the band that I like. I saw them once in concert during their Pop tour and I was bored. And I was completely burned that I had paid so much for the tickets and driven 100 miles to see the concert.
9. In middle school I made up my mind that I was going to go to college at Florida State. There I would major in music and minor in mathematics. I planned on becoming a piano teacher.
10. The only beer I enjoy drinking is Bell's Oberon, only available during the summer.
    

There you go. Now, to the passing onward. I, Heather at Comparative Childhood, do hereby bestow the Honest Scrap Award to:

CDP, aka Aunt Dahlia, at (parenthetical)

Amy at Welcome to Amy's World

Melissa at Buddha Mama

Go visit their blogs! They are very entertaining!

boody shorts and other things not to fight for the right for

I think my husband phrased it best a few nights ago: "These students are fighting for the right to dress up like whores and have their classmates ogle their asses." And that was after six days of discussion about the dress code shake up at Grace's school last Friday.

It happens in every middle school and high school every year. It happens no matter how conservative or liberal the dress code is, including those that have uniforms. Sooner or later, the students decide they want to push the rules, the school administration responds, and the students grumble and complain.

Last Friday the school administration at Grace's high school pulled several students out of class, all women, and cited 30 of them for dress code violations. The violations? Short shorts, micro minis and tube tops. The school has a policy that skirt and short lengths can't be higher than the tips of the fingers. All the parents of the cited students were notified. Students were given the option of changing into suitable clothing they had in their lockers, waiting for a parent to bring them a change of clothing, or walking home and changing clothes before being allowed to return to classes. A fourth option, which only one girl took, was to wear an extra-large t-shirt with the words "Tomorrow I Will Dress For Success" brandished across the front over her clothing, concealing the violating garments.

The student body has been outraged ever since the students were first removed from classes that day. The students discussed the matter in every single class. During lunch when some of the students returned to class, students stood on the lunch tables clapping, yelling, hurrahing, and, well, hooting. By the end of the day there was a petition written and signed by over 100 students (about 20% of the current student body), to be delivered to the principal directly. One student stepped forward as a reporter for the school paper and asked for "student victims" to contact her directly so she could address the matter in the next issue of the paper. Over the weekend three different facebook groups were begun by students protesting the matter. They had lovely and creative names like "OUR HIGH SCHOOL's dress code is RETARDED" and "OUR HIGH SCHOOL's rebellion." The rebellion group suggested every student come to school on Monday wearing short shorts, mini skirts, or showing some undergarment (all dress code violations) and label the protest "Dress like a Ho Day."

The school board communications officer released a public statement, as did the principal. The local newspaper picked up the story and posted a short bit on their online site. Five hours later, it was filled with over 50 comments, all from students of the high school or other local high schools.

I wish I could say there was some good critical thinking evidenced in these multiple expressions of protest. I wish I could say that this whole episode was just a difference of opinion between the school administration and the students. I wish I could say that the actions of the students reflected careful reflection and thought. I wish I could say my daughter wasn't one of the most outspoken members of the outraged constituency.

*Sigh.* Here are the more troubling facts as I see them.

• All the facebook groups were started by male students. And some of the male students can't help but comment about how they want to see the girls wearing these kinds of clothing.
• The girls are defending their right to wear these clothes using arguments like their right to self-expression is being stifled and that the dress code does not allow them to be comfortable in school, a year-round climate-conditioned building.
• There are numerous comments made by students about how it is impossible for them to buy shorts that meet the school dress code requirement, and that the dress code is old-fashioned. Here's a sample quote from one of the outraged youths: "Times now are COMPLETELY different from when the teachers and staff were young. Now it is next-to impossible to get shorts mid-thigh. This may seem irrelevant but its not cool to wear shorts much longer then your fingertips....we just want to fit in...ever heard of peer pressure?"

If you're like me, you're reading all this and just rolling your eyes. The arguments are rife with problems. Like, isn't nude photography a form of self-expression? And, so, I guess all the teens and adults with jobs are being oppressed by not being able to wear whatever makes them comfortable due to company dress code policies? Or, what can we say about adults who lived through the haute pants of the 70s or the lace tops over bras of the 80s, that they are COMPLETELY out of touch? That succumbing to peer pressure and dressing a certain way solely because your society dictates that you should are qualities to be aspired to?

But more than this lack of mature logic, I'm troubled that these students, these predominantly female students, see themselves as advocates for themselves by making these arguments. In reality, they're fighting for the right to dress provocatively in their primary place of business, their school. Even when Grace talked about it with me initially, she said that even though she wouldn't dress that way because I wouldn't let her, that doesn't mean that other girls shouldn't be able to.

Why do young girls not see how duped they are? Why do they never consider that the societally-dictated fashion standard that they are supposed to conform to is not helping them?

By the way, I have to include here the best comment I read by a student BY FAR:

"This was a very stupid move for the staff. If they want to interrogate us and treat us like 2 year olds, they should know that there will be consequences for their actions as there are for ours. We are hormonal teenagers who want to make a point, AND WE WILL MAKE A POINT!!"

*Sigh.* At least I can tell you that Grace didn't author that comment.

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.

Follow-up to test taking

I said it yesterday, and I'll repeat it today: THANK YOU to all of you who commented and emailed me about my post regarding Grace and test taking. As many of you noted, I was feeling very scared and very confused and very frustrated. Sometimes the best remedy for that is time to think it through. Time has helped, but it has also helped to get all of the ideas y'all made.

So here's some more information about our situation. Sorry in advance for the very lengthy post, but I wanted to address each of these ideas carefully since I don't think Grace or I are the only people who could benefit from the discussion. Hopefully it will be beneficial to many out there.

Natalie and Amanda both ask about alternative schools, educational approaches, and teaching philosophies out there. Yes, I've thought about this. We do have an alternative high school here that is hugely successful. The philosophy is that students drive their own learning. For the most part, the students design their own curriculum around their interests and learn because they are self-motivated. The high school is uncontroversially ranked highest in the state in scores on state mandated standardized testing, SAT and ACT scores, graduate rate, and placement in colleges (both by numbers and by national ranks of the college/university). Grace was enormously interested in going there. Unfortunately, so is every other 8th grader in the district. They place about 120-125 students in the freshman class every year from about 350-400 applications. No special privileges, no preferential treatment, no consideration of what the student brings to the table. The lucky new freshmen are selected entirely on the basis of lottery. And Grace was number 290-something. So, it's unlikely her number will come up anytime soon.

The high school Grace does go to has its own neighborhood district, but it also includes a magnet program. Several, in fact. The high school curriculum is tailored to one of four broadly defined career fields and the students in the magnet programs are able to spend their 10th, 11th, and 12th grade years in specialized courses that meet state requirements for graduation. Because of this, the high school also has a lottery for incoming freshmen outside the school's prescribed district. We didn't live in the high school's neighborhood district last year, but Grace wanted to put in an application. And she got selected on lottery. Elated, she sent in her acceptance right away. She's hoping she gets into the communication and media magnet program. But again, 40 slots, 400 freshmen, all on random lottery. That's good for Grace, because if it were on merit there's probably no way she'd get in right now without some major strings being pulled.

Another perk of her high school is that they do mastery learning. This means that students don't get away with just checking out of a course, not doing work, and subsequently failing the class and taking it in a watered-down version in summer school. If they get below a C in a class, they have to sign a contract with the teacher and work through the content until it is mastered on their own time in the next term. This is NOT done in a testing format. So for the first term when Grace failed Algebra, she actually got an incomplete and has been working ever since to master the content of tests and quizzes she didn't pass.

So in a sense, Grace already goes to a high school with an alternative approach to education.

All in all, I think where she's at is a good place. Especially given that the only other alternatives would be Catholic school (arguably less flexible) and home schooling (yeah, right, with all my spare time). For those who are curious, if I could do everything all over again knowing everything then that I know now, I would have home-schooled from day one using an unschooling method.

Natalie also asked about whether there's a university close by. More than close by, it's where my husband and I teach and do our research. The school district benefits greatly from this in that they work hard to work with the researchers at the university, do collaborative work, and implement the findings of research directly into the curriculum and the classroom policies. This is especially true of the two high schools that have lotteries for new students (e.g., Grace's high school). For instance, in the two lottery high schools, science is taught as a three-year integrated curriculum. There is no designated biology or chemistry or geology course; the content of these courses is taught topic by topic, since so many scientific topics require learning two or more of the traditional content areas in order to master. It's a bummer to transfer in or out of the system, but if you're in it throughout the four years of high school, the results have proven to be overwhelmingly positive. In the next two school years, all the high schools in the district will have changed completely to this model. Since Natalie suggested seeking advice beyond the district itself, I've seriously thought about going over to the relevant faculty at the school of education once I have more information and asking, what is your best recommendation? We'll see.

Phd in yogurtry and Little Miss Sunshine State both address going through the school for a full evaluation in order to identify any kind of learning disorder and to develop an IEP (Individualized Education Plan) for Grace in order to implement a well-defined set of goals and strategies for meeting those goals in school. You know, if there's one thing I could tell people out there who are watching their child struggle in school, go straight to the guidance counselor or teacher and say you want your child to be evaluated. The school is required to furnish you with information about testing and schedule it in a reasonable amount of time, usually within 45-60 days. It is the law of the land, and your right to this has been fought for long and hard by thousands of parents and educators. Once testing is completed, the school district will assemble a team of relevant professionals, including the parents, in order to determine if the child has a need for special intervention and develop an IEP to address that need. Now that I've given that public service announcement...

I know all about IEPs. I used to write IEPs, actually. My first job out of college as a budding psychology BA was to work in early intervention, that is, assessing and delivering services to children ages birth-36 months with any kind of developmental delay. It's required by law to be funded by every state, free of charge, and it's the precursor to the special education system which is normally available to students from age 3 years+. I assessed the infants and toddlers and wrote IFSPs, Individualized Family Service Plans. Once the child turned 3 years old, our agency worked with the local school district to develop an IEP that would pick up where we left off. So fortunately I benefit from the knowledge of the laws surrounding kids with special needs, the obligations of the educational system, and the process by which kids are helped. More than once I have called the school on violations on the law. When this happened, my standard line was to find the appropriate supervisor and tell them, I could sue the district and win, but I'd really rather that you do your job so that my kid could get what she needs.

Grace has been evaluated three times, once in 3rd grade, once in 4th grade, and then a last time in 6th grade. 3rd was the initial eval for qualification for intervention, 4th was because she was in a new school district after we moved and they were going to end services because they doubted she really had a problem. 6th grade was in that same district and was the mandatory re-eval to determine continued eligibility for intervention. During the re-eval in 6th grade, Grace decided to conscientiously object. She told the psychologist that she didn't want to do the testing. The psychologist persisted through it, and when the results were reported, they were almost comical. When they were presented to the team, my husband and I asked the team why the psychologist even bothered to administer the tests when she knew the conditions would result in unreliable and invalid data. She didn't give a great defense. The special ed teacher was embarrassed and apologized to me afterward. The next academic year, I went through Grace's permanent file and removed all the testing records from the re-eval. Then we came back to district number one without an IEP or a current eval. That was the start of 8th grade.

In earlier evaluations, the main finding was that Grace tested positively for ADD/ADHD and that no other impairment was found. Much to her current chagrin, Grace scored the highest in mathematical reasoning and logic. She showed some delay in planning skills which evidenced itself mostly in written composition, but, as all her educators say today, she's completely overcome the evidence of this deficiency. Still, there's my lingering questions about planning skills -- wouldn't this have an effect on her ability to learn material, studying for a test, and spitting back that information in a testing environment?

Right now our goal (Grace's, mine, the team at the school) is to treat ADD with medicine, put a system in place that keeps Grace motivated to do her work when it's assigned even when she doesn't find it useful or interesting, and have her catch up on all her missing assignments. All this is in process now. Then we meet together in about 3 more weeks. At that point, she'll have no missing assignments, she'll have the benefit of 4 weeks using a medication to treat symptoms of ADD, and we can ask, are her problems solved? Maybe, maybe not. But if they aren't solved, we know we can try and identify what's causing symptoms that are independent of just lack of attention and interest in work (symptoms of ADD).

Joanna and Urban Panther and Little Miss Sunshine State all tell about family members or their own children who dealt with ADD or ADHD. This, I think, is one of the biggest things I am missing. I don't have a group of friends who have kids with the disorder. Or even one friend. I have two friends, each with one daughter, who have had a teacher suggest ADD or ADHD may be the cause of the problems their daughter is experiencing in school. Both rejected the suggestion of ADD/ADHD soundly. Both said that there was nothing wrong with their child, that the school system was deficient somehow. Now, I won't say I can't relate to this idea. The educational system in the US tends to find kids with ADD/ADHD at a much higher rate than in other countries, and these kids are treated as much more impaired than is generally thought elsewhere. For instance, Grace looks perfectly average in Brazil. The idea that a kid doesn't like school so much and talks a lot and likes to be outgoing and festive is pretty normal. However...

I realized recently in tears in a conversation with my husband that part of what makes it so difficult to help a child with ADD/ADHD is that the disorder is associated with trouble. If you're a kindergarten teacher, you'd just as soon not have in your classroom the student who's in the midst of being diagnosed. You want that over-active boy who sometimes can't help but hit other kids when he gets mad on the playground fixed. When I was working in early intervention and we heard a diagnosis of ADD/ADHD, we all groaned; in contrast, we didn't groan when we heard autism or cerebral palsy or speech delay. There's a stigma attached to ADD/ADHD. There's something wrong with the child, and professionals are excused for reacting in a negative way to the symptoms.

What I was crying about with my husband was that I longed for someone to say, "I've been there; it's rough, but it will be ok in the end." All this to say, it felt so good, even from you bloggers out there who I've never met, to hear you assure me of this.

I emailed Grace's assistant principal on Wednesday evening. I told him of my concerns and asked him to keep an eye on tests and quizzes, especially once Grace has completed all missing assignments and she is keeping up with what's going on in the classroom. Hopefully when we meet in three weeks, we won't have lost any time and we can look at this with less confusion and less convoluted circumstances.

Finally, I talked to Grace. I told her how important it was for her to just keep at it. I told her that she was important, that she was smart, and that I wanted all of us in our family to work together on this. I told her that we want to solve at least part of her struggles (keeping up with daily work, having difficulty paying attention), and then we could make sure that anything else causing problems for her could be addressed better. She was receptive to this. As I've said before, she's really the core of this whole thing, and she needs to be in the middle of it, both in terms of working on the problem and in having control over solving the problem.

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?

Letting it all out

So, here's a moment in which I will bear my soul. I am so emotional over this stuff that Grace is going through at school, I can't hold the tears back. I've been trying all day to hold it in and think rationally and put it all off until later, but I can't do it anymore. I am so so so so so SO much hoping the best for Grace, and just so frustrated by the whole thing.

I was reading through my blog today and thinking, I wish the teacher that was there at the meeting yesterday could read this. No, I wouldn't send along the URL because I frankly don't think it's his business to really know the depth of my feelings towards Grace and about myself. But I just thought, can't he see that Grace is a person? Can't he see that she's struggling and that it isn't just a matter of will? If she's bored in class and puts her head down on the desk and complains that something is boring, it's part of what she struggles with. Yes, I know if she were an automaton she would be able to control these expressions, but she's not! That's the point! She has a disorder that makes it difficult for her to do otherwise. But instead what I heard from this teacher was disapproval and an annoyed tone.

If the student had a hearing problem, would you bring the same kind of attitude to the table in discussing the results of that impairment? What about if the child had mental retardation? Would you bring to the table irritation and anger in reaction to their difficulties in completing all the tasks put before them? Why is it that with a disorder that creates behavior problems, people cannot see past that? It's as if deep down they cannot believe that a disorder evidenced in behavior is something the individual has difficulty controlling. That somehow it's ok to bring an attitude to the table that accuses the individual. WHAT IS THE POINT?

Grace's math teacher is very worried about her. She is so encouraging to me. She goes out of her way to help her. But she very much wants Grace to succeed. When she sees me, she tells me likes Grace. When I email her, she always replies with the kindest, more helpful things. She's not a pansy, I think she just realizes that Grace needs HELP, not more JUDGEMENT!!!! She emailed me twice today and I was holding back. I realized that Grace didn't want to be singled out as 'special.' After telling the math teacher briefly what went on this week at the doctor and at the team meeting, I wrote this:

"There is one more thing I want to make I tell you because it is so important to Grace. She is very sensitive to having people see her or treat differently due to any disorder she has or any difficulty she is having. In all sincerity, she chose in middle school to be completely uncooperative in testing because the school psychologist and the co-teacher were so obvious about singling her out. It got so bad that the co-teacher just said there was no point in having her treated differently at all because the intervention was actually hurting her more than no intervention would. Obviously this was detrimental to her performance in school, but for her it was straight-forward choice: she would rather try on her own and fail than have adults drawing attention to her in what she perceived to be a negative way in the hopes that she might do better. For the last year to year and a half, my husband and I and Grace have spent countless hours as a family discussing how it would be best if Grace would go for help at school. My fear is that if she feels that she's being seen as 'special,' she will ditch the whole effort completely. In fact, given that she did it at a younger age, I can't imagine she wouldn't have this reaction. I assured her that everything regarding her having a label of ADD or anything different about the way she goes about her work and her school day would be entirely confidential. Obviously I know that you and everyone else at the school knows this, but in her case, this is especially important. Her ability to receive any extra help or intervention from the school without sacrificing her self-esteem is of utmost importance to her, and I have to respect that."

It was then that the tears began to fall. I couldn't hold back. I love this kid so much and I feel like her ability to do what she wants to do in life is hanging precariously by a thin thread. One wrong move by someone at the school and she's going to react. It's too much for me to just be cool about. Yeah, I cry a lot about her, I really do. She affects me so much, not in a negative way, though. It's not like she does things and I cry because they hurt my feelings. No, I cry because I just can't let go of wanting the best for her. Her struggles hit me straight to my core. It breaks my heart to see her not get it. Yeah, it's like a mama bear thing, but not in a stupid, 'don't mess with my kid' kind of way; it's in a way where I just long for her to be able to overcome her challenges and it kills me to see her meet hurdle after hurdle and not be able to make it over. And I just can't be objective.

So I'm crying and letting it all out right now. And that's that. It's not the first time, and it won't be the last. But right now that's where I am.

Here we go again on the ADHD cycle

I've been holding off on writing about this because we have had one hell of a roller coaster ride for the last couple months. Tomorrow Grace and I are officially having an appointment with her pediatrician for evaluation of ADHD. The pediatrician has all the paperwork from the school and me in order for this evaluation to go through. We may, indeed, get to the bottom of all this.

"Why now?" you may ask. Great question.

Since Grace was in preschool, she was not quite like the other kids. She was easily distracted and overly talkative. Often she didn't join in what the group was doing. And she had a very difficult time holding still. But she was bright. She was able to keep up with her peers. Sure, her teachers always said she could do more, but that would come in time as she matured.

About the time she was in second grade, she couldn't keep up with what was average in the classroom. It was clear, despite the fact that she seemed bright, that she was doing less than what she could. There was evaluation, intervention, concern, discussion, all sorts of lingo.

Her parents got divorced; maybe this contributed to her symptoms. She moved to a new state and school; maybe that was an interfering factor. She changed schools again where she was in a very different culture (arts magnet school, she was the only white student of 150 students in her grade); maybe that was something she'd have to adjust to. She moved again; she seemed not very disciplined, but she could keep up if her parents made her.

The bottom line is, she was never diagnosed with ADHD and as she grew older, I wasn't sure that a diagnosis would do any good even if she had it. She intentionally threw an evaluation with a school psychologist in 6th grade just because she was mad at being pulled out of class without her consent. And the intervention she got at school didn't seem to help anything since she was still failing math and barely passing science.

We're on year 11 of formal education now. At the end of every school year, she looks about like the typical kid of that grade. But at the start of the next year, she looks very immature and can't really adjust to the demands being put on her. New teachers, new classes, new schedule, new classrooms, new grading systems, it takes months to get used to. Just about the time she gets used to it, the school year is over and all that work of adjustment is lost.

And then came high school. We started the year with a bang. I thought. But slowly it came to light that Grace.....was Grace. Her algebra teacher is very worried. She didn't pass the first term of algebra. Now halfway through the second term, she is failing science and algebra. And all, I repeat all, of her teachers are concerned. Her guidance counselor said, you see all the kids coming down the hall and when you spot her you think, she's hyperactive.

Here's the catch: no amount of intervention, no amount of evaluation, no amount of concern, effort and care, no amount of any of it matters one iota unless the kid wants it and is bought into it. All these school faculty and administration, me and her stepdad, and the lord almighty himself could agree that she needs help, but it does no good if she doesn't want it. So the goal for me in communication with her at this point was, get Grace to realize that everyone is trying to help her. Get her to be involved. Get her to be in power in the situation. Make her understand that she can be completely informed and call all the shots if she wants.

By age 12, Grace had already decided she'd had enough of the system and didn't care if she failed, just as long as she would never have to be singled out as "special" and "needing help" again. How do you convince that kid that it doesn't have to be that way? How do you sell her on the idea of giving it one more chance?

First I promised her, and I made her teachers swear to holding this promise, that all information on her ADHD (or other diagnosis and intervention) would be completely confidential. And then I told her she could come to all the planning meetings and told her what to expect. And the bottom line is, somewhere in this whole situation, I am finding it essential to balance the wishes and will of an almost-adult against what I think is best for her.

In truth, she can choose to completely check out of school. Yeah, I wouldn't be happy about it, but there's really nothing I could do to stop it if that's absolutely what she chose to do. I don't think that's what's going on; I think she genuinely is facing difficulties and she really needs the help of the available specialists in the school and in the medical community. But nonetheless, if she decides that she doesn't want the help, that it's too risky and too high of a cost to be identified as having a disability, I really can't override her choice at this point. I could in practice, but in reality, my override would be impotent and useless.

I am hoping, wishing, dreaming, holding my breath, for the results of all this. Is it possible that she could start taking some medication and in a month she would look like herself sans all the behavior problems? Is it possible that by having all her teachers and administrators on the same page that she could be supported through her school day and be able to stay on track?

I can't believe that she's almost 15 and I haven't even gotten past this stage yet.

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?

Authenticity is the most important factor in being fashionable.

In the past I have confessed that I am perhaps a bit overly practical with my wardrobe. Evidence? Today I am wearing the same thing I wore yesterday - Levi's 505s, a warm grey turtleneck from Land's End and a V-neck black wool sweater from Banana Republic I swiped from my husband about 3 years ago when he said it was too warm to be of any practical use to him. I also, for the fourth day in a row, am wearing what I always called "duck shoes," but that apparently go by the official product name Gumshoe at L.L.Bean.



Mine are blue, and 20 years old. The leather looks brand new, though, thanks to that weatherproofing goose fat lard (or whatever it is) that they include with every purchase and instruct you to slather all over the leather parts in order to ensure decades of endurance to come.

Catch that? When I look at my wardrobe, I have to admit I go for name brands:

• Levi's
• Land's End
• Banana Republic
• L.L. Bean

Granted, it's not as if it's Prada and Gucci. I go for the trusted labels, the ones that have been around for awhile, and don't really worry about whether they are the hottest new thing. I wish I could tell you that I've singled out only the items I'm wearing that have a recognizable label, but I haven't. Even the coat I'm wearing today is Eddie Bauer. And yes, I know that this list of labels makes me the whitest of the white girls out there. You know, the kind who says "You go, girl!" with just the right prosody to make you roll your eyes way up high into their sockets. At least I can make fun of myself in this respect and laugh myself silly when I see videos like this.

So now here's a question for you. Are you the kind of person who goes for a fashion item, one that has been pronounced by the fashion mavens and fashionistas as an "it" item, and not settle for anything but the real thing? Like those $500 sunglasses Prada put out a few years ago, or the colorful patchwork purses by Coach that were sold on every corner in NYC two years back, or a camel/red/black scarf by Burberry? Or are you just as happy with something that looks like the original, because it's the design you like, not the prestige that goes with owning and donning the name brand?

When I was in middle school and high school, there were the Haves and the Have-Nots. The Haves had A LOT. Designer handbags, a new one for each season, luxury automobiles, and clothing you could only purchase at Neiman Marcus. Swatch watches and Gucci bracelets, Polo and Izod shirts, and Guess! jeans. Laura Ashley bedsheets and perfume made by Calvin Klein. The Have-Nots could do one of two things: ignore the "what to have" columns and wear whatever they liked that they could afford, or try desperately to mimic the original and hope it was sufficient to pass for "cool."

I was somewhere in the middle between the Haves and the Have-Nots. Whereas my family was not lacking, my parents didn't have money to throw around on frivolity. And whereas some people in my parents' situation might have felt the need to keep up with the Joneses, my parents were much more practical, holding to values of frugality and sensibility. So when I, like all my peers, asked my parents whether I could have some of the things my Have peers had, my parents gave me one of two answers: (1) no, or (2) buy it yourself.

A few times I bought it myself (Swatch watch, Coca-Cola jersey), then I moved to the close-enough knock offs (imitation designer perfume, close substitutes for designer shoes at Thom McAn), and finally I rested in not really paying attention to what the fashion world was trying to sell me on. I started defining my own style and shopped at Goodwill. Funny how I made that shift right about the same time grunge was coming in...

Which brings me to today. UGG boots. The first time I heard of these things, I laughed so hard I started crying. Indeed, my daughter came home from school and told me she wanted a pair of UGG boots. I couldn't decide what was more hysterical -- the fact that the name sounded like someone saying "Ugh..." or that it was an easy jump from the name to "ugly." And even more ridiculous was that thousands, hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions of women in America were being sold on the idea that boots made and worn by sheepherders in the outback of Australia would of course be a must-have addition to their otherwise couture wardrobe. Oh, and did I mention the pricetag? More than $200 a pair.

You've GOT to be kidding me.

Despite this, my daughter wanted some. Why? Because everyone at school had a pair. Again, YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. Worse? She still wants a pair. That's the number one item on her Christmas list. A pair of UGG boots.

When asked whether she would want a pair that were of exactly the same look, make, and quality of genuine UGG boots, she conceded that this would be ok, but not really what she wanted. Indeed, she wants the status of saying she owns and wears a pair of boots that everyone knows costs a small fortune.

Somewhere in my sensible, quality-seeking mind, I made the decision to look into UGG boots. Maybe they were worth the money, they were durable, and would give her years of faithful service in walking through the fields of snow to school. (Never mind the fact that she doesn't want to actually wear then IN the snow, no, she would wear her SNOW BOOTS for that and save the designer UGG boots for indoors).

It turns out, the UGG boots sold in the United States are a rip-off, a knock-off, and cheap imitation of the REAL boots made in Australia! They are manufactured by Deckers Outdoor, made in China, and then shipped to the US and legally sold as UGG Boots under a licensing agreement that Deckers bought from the fledgling Australian company that finally registered the name. Even the UGG label that is so important to giving a pair of boots its authenticity, even that is made in China! For the last three years, the authentic Australian company has been suing Deckers Outdoor in an attempt to cease their distribution in the United States.

Well, I don't know of any better way to convince a teenager that something they thought was so cool isn't so cool afterall. I told Grace, if you want real UGG boots, you have to go to Australia to get them. They're sold to rugged outdoorsy types, not teeny-boppers, and they may smell a little like the sheep who gave up its pelt for the boots' existence. But no matter, as long as she knows this so she can tell all the girls at school who have bought into this marketing sham that they, indeed, are just on the receiving end of the emperor's new clothes.

Now on to the REAL Christmas shopping.

Coming to terms with who I am

I've written about my frustrations with organized religion. In a separate vein, I've written about my frustrations with my daughter and her difficulties in school, personal organization, emotional development, and maturing in general. Today I will bring these two together. Why? Because I realize that they are both exacerbated by the same mixed bag I bring to the table from my childhood.

Yesterday I wrote about parenting a kid with ADHD, how I realized it was like being in a desert in that I was dying of thirst for someone, anyone, to volunteer praise for my daughter. For more than 10 years of formal education, I've heard that she was "within the normal range of development in most areas," that there are things she "needs to work on," what her "areas of improvement" should be, and what her "developing skills" are. I've stood by teachers who gave her a stern talking-to, hoping that this one would be the one that would jump-start the maturity. I've concluded that, whereas the politically correct language used to address students with ADHD is better than the labels I got as a kid, as a parent I know (and I presume my daughter knows) what these euphemisms really mean. They mean that something is wrong with your kid and it needs to change. It means the kid isn't what the educational system wants, really. What they want is for your kid to be different than what they are.

Through a series of comedic errors, she's never officially been diagnosed with ADHD. Oh, if I told you the whole story, you would laugh out loud. It seems as though the teachers who complain the loudest and most frequently are also the slowest at taking action when you ask them to objectively report on the student for the purposes of diagnosis by a physician or psychologist. I'll save my many stories because, frankly, there are too many to mention and I get so angry just thinking through the whole saga. After more than a decade I discovered that it made no difference whether Grace had a label of ADHD or not. It made no difference whether there was an IEP or a special ed folder or not. Grace does well in a classroom when a teacher is willing to see her for who she is and adapt to her. And Grace does terribly in a classroom when a teacher decides that Grace needs to conform to the rigid way school has always been done.

Inevitably when I think through these things, I realize I am not objective in my thinking. No, I don't mean that because I am Grace's mother I can't see her shortcomings, er, ah, I mean, challenges accurately. I mean that many times when I watch her and hear what her teachers say about her, I find myself instantly taken back to childhood. Most of us over the age of 30 never even considered ADHD or ADD until we were parents, which leads to a looming question: what does an adult with the disorder look like? I don't know, but I do know that many times when I hear what Grace's educators say, I think, you just don't understand because you've never felt it. It doesn't feel wrong or flawed when it's your mind and your actions; it just feels like who you are. You can't just BE different; you are who you are.

As a child (and a teen, and a young adult, and...) I talked too much. My mind wandered in the classroom. I was hopelessly disorganized. This all led to a poor performance in school, both academically and behavior-wise. I remember one year especially well, 5th grade. My trouble started with unfinished schoolwork, but once I was realized where I was on the scale of good-to-bad based on not turning in schoolwork, my behavior in other areas declined as well. My class ate lunch outside on picnic tables and then got to play after eating. However, if you hadn't turned in an assignment, you were "benched" for lunch and recess time. This meant you sat at a table with the teacher, eating your lunch without being allowed to talk to anyone, and then worked on schoolwork. I was benched the entire year. No, really! I didn't have lunch with my friends once that year. It quickly became clear that I was at the very bottom of the barrel in terms of getting into trouble. No one was benched as often or scolded as much or behind in as many subjects and assignments as I was. I was the worst.

It didn't take long for my enthusiasm for school to wane completely. I faked being sick a lot just so I wouldn't have to go. I avoided my teachers completely. I stopped doing schoolwork altogether unless someone forced me to do it (and yes, there were some drastic measures taken to get me to do some of it). I virtually dropped out of academics entirely and went to school only because I was forced to. This attitude pretty much prevailed for another school year. By the end of 6th grade I was failing half of my subjects. Somehow by the time I started middle school in 7th grade I felt it was more socially beneficial to do well in school and changed gradually.

To this day I look back on that point in my life and realize that was when I felt there was no advocate. I was alone, and completely screwed up. And though I survived academically, I'm not sure I survived emotionally and spiritually.

I didn't have the benefit of an educational system that understood or adapted to this. I was deemed to be a troublemaker, a slacker, and one who was "not living up to her potential." The school endorsed, embraced, and implemented at every turn a philosophy that children were to be molded into good and proper and righteous individuals. This meant children were to be hard workers, submissive to authority, and well-behaved, constantly being reminded that they are God's representatives on earth. Accordingly any deviation from good behavior was deemed "un-Christ-like" and an appropriate punishment was issued. The system was based in classical conditioning, most specifically that negative enforcement (=punishment) would result is a cessation of un-Christ-like behavior. I guess no one there knew that behaviorism died in the 1950s with the cognitive revolution, but hey, they were traditionalist so maybe they didn't mind.

I won't say my experience was all bad. A few times everything came together and I was able to benefit from the efforts of my parents and my teachers. But one thing was massively clear to me: my shortcomings, the issues I struggled with on a daily basis, were not minor. They were sins and I was sinful for not changing them.

"Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not stray from it." It's Proverbs 22:6. I'll have you know, I heard that bible verse so many times that I didn't even have to look it up to include it here. Granted, reading it now, there is nothing about this passage that necessarily means you must constantly punish children in order to get them to conform to the way you think all children should be. But as far as I can see that was the interpretation of the school I went to and the adults around it.

Two things came out of this experience. First I concluded that I'm not a good person. Given a doctrine of original sin, that's not necessarily a problem. But it is a problem if who you are, your very personality traits and tendencies, are deemed to be sinful. To say that a kid who talks too much and can't stop is sinful is as ridiculous as saying that a child who has a vision problem and can't correct the vision is sinful. But nonetheless, that was what I consciously concluded. Whatever it takes to be a good Christian, I just don't have it. So why keep trying at something that you're bad at? (I wish I could say that this conclusion was erroneous in my youth, based on the incomplete data set of just a few bad days at school, but alas, as an adult my uppity-ness still seems to get in the way of being a good christian woman. So I still ask, why keep trying to something you're clearly not cut out to do well?)

Second, I realized that education should not be all about getting kids to behave in a way that is deemed socially acceptable. Yes, you need some semblance of order to have a group of students together, but what if a child simply cannot stop talking and daydreaming no matter how hard she tries? I have sat through many parent-teacher meetings and marveled at how little some educators were able to imagine what it was like to be Grace. It was as if her perspective was irrelevant and the only one that mattered was that of the adults. Just so you know, I never go to parent-teacher conferences anymore. As of 7th grade, we have parent-teacher-student conferences and I encourage Grace to say what's on her mind while listening to her teachers.

There's a more important issue in all this, which is what impact this has on me. And that is what this blog revolves around, you see. When I see my daughter struggle, I so often see myself. When she is misunderstood or misjudged, when she is in trouble, when she is down, so many times I see myself. I wish I could say that I worked all those feelings out, but clearly I haven't. And my feelings drive my desire to want to shield her from the world, whether that's the best thing for her or not. So, I march onward trying to sort all this out.

Hurt and Anger

You know those girls in middle school that you disliked so much? The ones who traveled together in gaggles and always seemed to have something cutting to say to people who were not so well socially networked? One of those girls I met the first day of 3rd grade when I was a new kid. I saw her last when I was 21, newly married and visibly pregnant. I visited a church (I was church-shopping) and she spotted me. After the service she ran after me and called my name. Now mind you, I was over 1000 miles where she and I grew up and went to school together. I was stunned. She was nice enough and gave her phone number. I never called her back.

We're now friends on facebook. She seems healthy and happy. That connection has opened up access to the mean girls group, though. The pictures started getting posted last week. The poster of the pictures is a woman I have known was on facebook for weeks. I know who she is. I just don't want to have anything to do with her. I know she's a woman now and she's probably a much different person today than she was as a teenager.

The pictures aren't bad or mean or petty or incriminating. They're just snapshots of a bunch of not-yet-highschoolers enjoying youth. It's what I see in these pictures that's painful. I see these images and I suddenly become a 12- or 13-year-old again. I can see their confidence in numbers and smug contentment and not being alone. I can hear their snide remarks uttered quietly during class, designed to make you feel small. I can feel the heat in my face as I feel hurt, then angry, and finally defeated.

It's amazing, really. It was so long ago. The things that happened were so petty and lame. As an adult, I can watch the same things happen between middle school girls and think, what idiots. Despite the elapsed time and the decades of maturity that have ensued, I still see these photos and feel hurt.

I wonder what it feels like to be one of those girls in the pictures. What are their hurts? Who angered them? How did they resolve their feelings?

Three strikes, you're out

I don't let Grace wear tank tops outside of on the pool deck and around the house with family. I don't mean cute shirts that are loose that just happen to not have sleeves. I'm talking about those tank tops that fit like a glove, sometimes with flirty lace trim, and often with a low neckline and revealing armholes. They're designed to make a woman look good. Maybe a little too good. She has about six of these tank tops. Don't ask me 'if you don't like them so much, then where did she get them?' Who bought them for her and under what auspices is a whole other blog post in and of itself.

Twice last week one of the tank tops made it to school. I won't bore you with the details, but there was plenty of warning at home that of course she wouldn't wear the tank top alone, she would wear a shirt over it. Unfortunately, when someone makes videos during the school day and posts them to the web, your mother can find out that you indeed wore only the tank top all day.

For all three years of middle school we had huge problems with what should and what shouldn't be worn out in public. Not just tank tops, but lots of outfits that were definitely not within my range of what should be worn outside in public. I've explained, I've offered advice, I've encouraged with lots of feminist lingo, I've yelled, I threatened, I've had her hair cut short, I've taken away her clothing, I've given away her clothing, you name it. Yet here we are in the first week of ninth grade with two infractions. I warned her, I'm not going down this path again. Do Not Push Me. Heed My Warning. There Will Be Consequences If You Don't Adhere To My Rules.

Grace just came in at 9 pm after a full day of school, swim practice, homework study hall, and then a game with friends. She walked through the hallway quickly past me. I looked up long enough to see the outfit, and when she was out of sight I called to her to come back. She went to the restroom. She called, 'hold on!' She came out in about 3 minutes, now in her night clothes. And then the drama began.

I took away the tank tops. All six. She's mad. She said that now she can't layer her shirts over her tank tops. Mind you, I've never actually seen her layer the t-shirts over the tank tops unless she's in front of me. As soon as she's out of my sight, it's off with the shirt and in with much less.

OK, here's my big problem with this. It's the issue of me having a rule, a well articulated rule, and that my daughter absolutely refuses to follow it. The fact that I have a reason for why I made the rule doesn't matter. If she doesn't agree with me, she will not follow the rule, case closed. I feel like my rules apply only when she there is a chance she will get caught. They really don't apply at all then, right?

Actually, there's a much bigger problem with the whole thing. It's not so much about the clothes and appearance and more about me wanting her to work within the boundaries I've given her. I know what the kids are wearing these days, and I let her do stuff that is reasonable. But when I'm telling her to curb it because she's doing a little too much advertising, it's really important to me. She just sees me getting upset over nothing and not 'getting it.' But I'm worried about a much bigger picture. She's a girly girl and she's perceived as being shallow and flighty. She talks too much, and her teachers don't like it. She says 'I just don't get math and science,' even though she's bright. And the boys hit on her. They hit on her all the time. I guess I'm lucky that she doesn't notice it as much as I do. She's just not the picture of a soon-to-be-successful woman, you know? Is it so hard to convince a girl that rising above all the girl talk and gossip is so much better than the superficiality we all regret in our adulthood?

All this to say, I don't think that provocative attire is helping her. I want her to wake up and realize that the years are passing. This is exactly the stage of life in which women fall behind, way behind. Tween and teen girls worry about what they look like and whether that boy noticed them and who's popular and how my locker is decorated and how many times I went to the mall. They don't realize that opportunity is slipping through their fingers like sand while they are distracted with the superfluous.

I've convinced myself that the hour I just spent fuming over this was a reaction to something much bigger than the single infraction itself. But I'm not yet convinced that my daughter sees the bigger picture.

The drawbacks of being self-righteous and self-pitying

When I began middle school in 7th grade, I was not quite as ready for it as some of my colleagues. Emotionally, developmentally, physically. Did I mention physically? I was not looking like a 7th grader. At least that's what my insecurity told me and that's what I worked on the assumption of.

One of my childhood friends in particular seemed to blossom miraculously overnight and showed up to school on the first day of 7th grade as a new woman. I didn't know anyone could make our uniforms look so sultry, but boy, she pulled it off. Of course, it didn't hurt that over the summer she had also transformed herself from goodie-goodie honor roll student who could handle any responsibility an adult gave her into beach blanket bingo babe. She had the tan, the streaked blond hair, the Blues Brothers Raybans, the black gummy bracelets, and a home within walking distance of the strip. I thought, 'wow, no one will like her now. She's sold out.' Did I mention that I was not quite developmentally ready for middle school? Yeah. Like, I didn't get that being attractive and trendy would win you more admiration among your peers than good grades would. And I wasn't savvy enough to figure out that the good grades didn't have to be traded in for trendy and cool.

By 8th grade, I had gotten up my nerve to try out for the cheerleading squad. By some miracle, I actually made the squad. I thought, maybe things with turn around for me now. But Gorgeous Intelligent Beach Girl also made the squad. As did many other girls who I was intimidated by. We got to cheer for the middle school boys' basketball team. The season progressed in a typical way, with me slowly realizing that yes, I was a cheerleader, but sort of the runt of the squad in terms of appeal. I was tired of watching all the other girls get what I wanted so badly -- attention, popularity, and a reputation for being 'cool.' I comforted myself by thinking of all the ways I was better than them. I was more involved with my church. I never compromised my pure image for the attention of a boy. I didn't cuss. And I definitely didn't back-stab my friends. But all of this self-affirmation didn't help, and I just became more and more self-conscious and more and more jealous.

One Saturday morning, towards to end of the season, I found myself riding on the team bus traveling to an away game, along with the rest of the cheerleaders and the boys' basketball team. The boys' coach required the basketball players to sit in the front of the bus and the cheerleaders in the back, so the boys would keep their heads in the game. Whatever. I found myself sitting next to Gorgeous Intelligent Beach Girl for one hour on the bumpy ride north to some other tiny private Christian school I have long forgotten. I wasn't sure what to talk about with her, since I had convinced myself I was inherently a better person than she but yet felt terrifically inadequate with her. And I craved her approval, which would guarantee to bolster my station in life. And then, in a flash, I decided to do the unexpected.

I turned to her and started. "I saw this movie last weekend that I think you would like. Little Darlings. Have you heard of it?" And I proceeded to explain the plot, what I thought of what it taught young Christian girls like ourselves, and how I was so glad that we were rising to higher morals and goals than the teens in that monstrous movie. I got what I wanted -- she was tongue-tied, unsure how to respond. Neither of us was clever enough to think of the great comeback she could've delivered, "Why did you watch the movie if you felt it was immoral?" But nevermind that, I had gotten my steely revenge. Or so I thought.

At the end of 8th grade, we participated in 8th grade promotion exercises. In a surprise move that we students only found out about the moment it was announced at the exercises, the faculty had selected students who they felt demonstrated the godly characteristics epitomized by the life of Saint Barnabas. These students were given the honor of receiving an aptly named "Barnabas Award." And there I sat, along with all my peers donning our Sunday best, in front of all our families and entire faculty, waiting to find out who had been chosen. Many students received an award -- almost half the class. Most of the girls I envied got one. Gorgeous Intelligent Beach Girl got one. I did not.

I am sure I am the only student who participated in that event who remembers the Barnabas awards. Most of those who received one probably just threw the cheap certificate into their desk drawer and it was left there for years, and it was perhaps thrown out during spring cleaning after the proud recipient had long ago left home and started their adult life. Not only may I be the only one who remembers these awards, I may be the only one who remembers the difference between Barnabas and Barabbas. I just remember thinking at the time, this is so unfair. I am so good, and I try so hard, and all these mean mean mean people around me are just duping everyone into believing they are lovely individuals.

Gorgeous Intelligent Beach Girl friended me last week on facebook. The memories came flooding back within hours. I felt 14 all over again.

Not done

Recommended mathematics enrichment course during summer school.

3 hours a day, 5 days a week.

The course is recommended 'to ensure progress in high school curriculum in the following academic year.'

I am sighing. I am trying very hard not to react badly. I am remembering what happened to me when I 'finished' 8th grade. I want to be encouraging.

She is being very mature about this and facing the situation in a realistic, practical, and even-tempered way.

Help. Me. Not. Become. Emotional. About. This.

Calling all mothers of sons! Please help!

I'm unsure what advice to give Grace and I desperately need good advice. More than two months ago I wrote that Grace is friends with a boy who she thinks of as more than a friend. They have been friends all year. Grace still thinks of this boy as more than just a friend. Recently through the rumor mill that is 8th grade, Grace apparently learned that he likes her but that he is intimidated by her. Yesterday he gave her a single gift to communicate that he likes her as more than a friend.

Now, friends and neighbors, y'all know that I encourage Grace to have friendships first. And I would like to remind the reading audience that we are talking about 14-year-olds. It is an understatement to say that anything more than a superficial teen romance is premature at this point.

I am trying to advise Grace on how she should handle this. Part of this advising is that I want Grace to take into account the feelings of this boy. As I wrote before, he is a very nice and kind person. Responsible, polite, and well-mannered. He's not cocky or smug, and he doesn't seem to be suffering from the ills of feeling like he must appear macho and powerful. I want the advice I give Grace to benefit her, him, and their friendship.

HOWEVER, I have NO IDEA what a kind response to the gesture towards my daughter would be. I have no experience with teenage boys. I have no brothers, sons, not even male cousins. I know when I was a teenager I did a lot of really stupid and hurtful things towards boys I knew because I was nervous or because I didn't realize what it was like to be a boy. I've heard men say that one 'kiss of death' line goes something like, "I like you a lot but I just want to be friends with you." I wish I had known that when I was younger. It makes me wonder, what other things are horrible to say? How many horrible things are there to say?

There is good evidence that this boy's parents almost certainly know about his feelings and actions and are also being very careful in their parenting to see that he is acting respectfully towards Grace. So again, I just want to teach Grace how to respect this boy's feelings as well.

My instinct is to tell Grace that she should continue being friends with him and not do anything that would make him feel betrayed or vulnerable. But what does "anything that would make him feel betrayed or vulnerable" entail? I am asking, begging in fact, for advice on this matter. Especially if you have a son. What would you hope for your son? Even if you don't have a son, you are no doubt more informed about this situation than I am. Help, please!

Done! Done, done, DONE!

NO MORE MIDDLE SCHOOL!!!!!!!!!!!

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Did you check out the fingernails on this up-and-coming high school freshman?)

Why must I be a teenager in love?

Yesterday I went to Grace's final track meet of the season. Grace has enjoyed this season and talked a lot about her interactions with other students on the team. Throughout this track season, it has become apparent to me that in addition to the athletic benefits, there are social benefits of being on the track team. It's a co-ed team, afterall.

Throughout the meet yesterday I noticed a young woman and man on her team. In the past I have noticed each of them in separate settings. What caught my eye yesterday and kept me interested was their interaction with each other. She twisted, she turned, she batted her eyes. She moved around him. She asked him how he was, what was wrong. He muttered, nothing. She kept on with trying to get him to look at her. He didn't look at her. He looked bored.

This went on for the entire 90 minutes I was at the meet.

After the meet, Grace explained that they are boyfriend and girlfriend, thus their constant conversation and bantering with one another.

*Sigh.*

Remember when you were a middle school teenage girl? And you thought, 'oh, he's so nice. I like him so much.' Remember back when it meant something to say 'You know, I like, like him, like him, you know, like, do you get it?' If you were like me, you told all your friends, and you were consumed with how much he liked you, who he had told, and what other people thought of you due to how he felt about you.

Does it make anyone else crazy to remember this? It pained me yesterday to watch this scene between the boy and girl. This boy completely acted like he was too cool to actually talk to the girl normally. It was as if he just enjoyed having her flit about him and had no interest in being, what do you call it? Ah yes, friends with her. Yet she was willing to spend over an hour giving him her attention. I wanted to ask her, isn't there anything else you'd rather do with your time this afternoon? Spend time with anyone else? Watch the meet? Read a book?

As I look back on middle school crushes, I remember an obsession with trying define myself by who I hung out with. In fact I remember at one assembly, a motivational speaker did a great thing to demonstrate this. He asked our crowd of squirming adolescents, 'Raise your hand if you think for yourself.' A few brave souls lifted their hands immediately, and then everyone else followed suit. The speaker noted this pattern and explain to us that if you looked around before you were willing to raise your hand, you weren't thinking for yourself. (Very effective device, don't you think?) Unfortunately for girls, the thinking-for-yourself and the defining-yourself-by-who-you-hang-out-with seems to overlap greatly into the what-boys-I-think-are-cute category and you're desperately trying to find a boy who is 'nice' and 'cute.'

8th grade, 8th grade, I'm trying to remember. Who was I obsessed with getting the attention of? Oh, I remember now. Two of the 'popular' girls were interested in being friends with me. I spent the first half of the year trying to get the attention of a boy that these two girls would accept, yet didn't actually have an interest in themselves. Then late in the year I had a short romantically-defined relationship who a boy I called my boyfriend. I am happy to say he was someone I found interesting, the romance didn't last, and I'm actually still friends with that boy to this day. Whew. 

Oh wait, no. I can't breath a sigh of relief because then there was ninth grade...

Ugh.

Girls, think for yourself. If you think a boy is nice, befriend him as you would anyone. Be his friend. And if he is a friend back, great. You have a new friend. It's not that there's anything wrong with the boyfriend/girlfriend thing; I accept that it will never go away. But if your ongoing friendship with a boy that you are a friend with causes you to ignore the other things in your life, your other friends, your interests, look at yourself and ask 'why?' It is not the boy that is choosing this, it is you.

handling courtesy towards others

We had a bit of a fallout last night. Well, we had as much of a fallout as I can participate in currently since I have felt like shee-ite since my surgery Friday. Grace was telling me something at the dinner table and insisting that I knew this information because I had given her the info a couple days earlier. I had not. What she was telling me, I knew nothing about. While she was giving many antics and gestures indicating her incredulity, she finally said, 'is the anesthesia still affecting you mom?' I was so thrown aback, I just told her I was offended and left the dinner table. When we revisited the issue after dinner, she said that she didn't mean to say these things and that she was sorry that my feelings we hurt. I explained that she most certainly intended to say the things she did. Then I went on to say that an appropriate apology would include her admitting she was wrong to say those things.

My husband then came into the room and intervened. He asked her to explain what had happened at the dinner table. She said 'why are you getting all up in my business? I don't want to tell you.' 

( You know, it's funny. When I write these things they don't sound anywhere near as offensive as they did at the time. I think it's worth me remembering this. No one blew up last night, and I think that's a good thing. Because the language wasn't the worst it could have been.)

The conclusion of the conversation was that the rudeness ended there, then and now. My husband promised her that rudeness like this would most certainly be met with severe punishment in the future.

The rudeness and cattiness has been escalating for a couple days now. We spent a good bit of time giving her hints that she was going over the line. At first it was just hyper-activity, or interrupting the conversation constantly to draw attention to herself. Then she moved to the kind of patronizing behavior that middle school students find oh-so-clever. You know, like saying to adults, 'are you feeling ok?' in order to mean 'you are really stupid.' By the time we got to dinner last night, I had had enough. 

But what I'm asking myself is what triggered this? Was it having her grandma in town who was spoiling her a bit? If that's it, I don't mind my mom treating her to some fun days. Mom only gets to see her once in awhile, and an afternoon out to lunch and buying a new outfit doesn't constitute seriously damaging spoiling in my opinion. But does this kind of attention cause Grace to become too self-focussed and not be able to re-align herself back to normal? If this wasn't the cause, what was? My being under-the-weather? Anticipation of graduation? Too many events in one week? I really thought that after a few good weeks (dare I say a month?) of normal discourse we had gotten past the typical teen rudeness and were conversing in a respectful way.

my girl, growing

I call Grace "little one." The nickname has become quite ironic as of late, since she is but a fraction of an inch shorter than I am anymore. I just realized she is well on her way to woman. 

Grace is graduating from 8th grade in 2 weeks. The school is putting on a ceremony, a reception for families, then a whole afternoon of fun for the graduates before they leave the next week on their 4-day trip. For graduation, Grace wanted to buy a new dress.

I have no problem with Grace buying a dress. I think she owns a total of two. I would prefer her looking more dressed up some of the time. She usually is comfortable in jeans and tank tops.

Grace and my mom spent the whole afternoon at the mall. When they came home, Grace put on her whole outfit for graduation. New dress, shoes, jewelry, the works. She looked spectacular. I was blown away. The dress is strapless and she also bought a little white sweater to cover her shoulders in case it is cold. Did I mention she looked incredible?

I guess all parents have this moment of realization that time is passing quickly. It's not the first time her appearance has surprised me for how grown up it made her look. But for the first time, I looked at her and she looked, how shall I say this? Grown. She looked mature. She didn't look like I should call her "little one."  

I am surprised with myself because I would have thought this realization would make me nervous or uncomfortable. But I am so amazed at her beauty and poise, I cannot believe she is the girl I have been watching grow up for 14 years. She is truly a beautiful girl, quickly becoming a beautiful woman.