Yom Kippur

Forgiveness and atonement.  Finding compassion in one's heart even towards those you could never be friends with or follow.  That's a tall order, a good goal to strive towards.  Self righteousness feels so good when you feel you KNOW you are right, yet it is still important to think of the position of those you believe are wrong.  I know I get so wrapped up in my passions around politics and social justice issues, I often have to remind myself to listen openly as well as share my thoughts.  

Colonel Muammar al-Gaddafi Does NY

Well, we could of used the shoe-throwing Iraqi journalist at the United Nations today.  The Libyan president, Muammar Gaddafi, spoke for an hour and a half apparently. How can it be that such a crazy man has been in power so long.  Poor Libya, poor Libyans! 

I heard on BBC World News this morning from a report given by a Libyan Professor from the University of Texas that Gaddafi doesn't care about the content of his speeches (big surprise), but rather that he causes a "sensation."  When he travels he is said to bring his bedouin tent to "sleep in," fully equipped with electricity and satellite TV.  This time he set it up on property owned by Donald Trump, unbeknownst to Trump.  Ah it only gets better!

Gaddafi had lots of criticism of the U.N., demanding investigations into all the wars since World War II.  He did compliment Obama, calling him "Our Son" and expressed the hope that Obama would be president for life. Heck, why not Muammar, you are, right? He shared his belief that the Swine Flu was a conspiracy, concocted from some government lab (I'm not sure I got this part right or which government lab), and, I do have this right, that the Israeli's are behind John F. Kennedy's assassination. Mother of Sweet Jallalabad.  

NY is home to  the United Nations, so as a country I guess we couldn't possibly arrest the man and charge him for the crimes against humanity he has committed over the years, but there is no reason he couldn't be checked into Bellevue Mental Hospital for an extended stay is there? He could even bring his tent.

The Lucky Life of an American Abroad -Rome

When I was a senior in high school my father was posted in a communist country, so I went away to a boarding school in Rome.  It was an international school, so the students were from such places as Israel, Libya, England, The United States, Norway, Sweden, The Netherlands, Botswana and of course Italy.  The school was a day school but had about 50 boarders, I was one.  The teachers were also from all over the world, and the "house parents" that lived at the school were exceedingly cool and fun even if they were authority figures.

When I arrived I was terrified and self conscious, only to be magnified by the fact that Al Italia had lost my luggage so I wore the same clothes for a week.  But, no matter, I was embraced nevertheless, which was amazing to me!  I can remember this wonderful fellow classmate, an American whose parents worked in Saudi Arabia, she took me all over Rome on a "tour."  That was the amazing thing about that school, the students were stoked about living in Italy, and were so into the art, history and cultural aspects of being there, so we all together took advantage of everything Rome and the surrounding areas had to offer together.  It was socially cool to want to see and do things Italian.

Some of the teachers were  Americans who had been in Rome a while and had found their new homeland so to speak.  One history professor who maybe came from the midwest (?) taught Islamic History.  He showed us slides (dating myself) of his trekking through Iran.  We saw detailed pictures of mosaics and intricate tiles, mosques and smiling people, which all made for a "I want to go there!" mentality.  My Italian teacher wasn't quite 5', adorable to my 5'11''.  I was and still am an atrocious linguist, barely passing Italian and going on to college I must admit.  She'd gaze up at me after class and say "you hava' to worka harder!"  No kidding.  

I remember one day a group of us took a picnic to the Villa Borghese  park in the center of the city, then went to walk around the Coloseum just for kicks.  We'd take the tram to the coast, or to Assisi where St. Francis lived and preached.  As the year went by we continued to make memories; group dinners at trattoria's, playing basketball against The Geneva Giants (they won), coffee at piazzas, parties at our Roman friends homes, running early in the morning around the Circo Maximo, studying late into the night for finals. We had no idea really of how privileged we were.  In the years to follow I came to appreciate more and more I realized how unique and wonderful my experiences had been, how lucky I was.

As the time neared for graduation I remember thinking I wanted to prolong my life in Rome, I didn't want to return to the U.S. after having lived overseas for the past 6 years. I'd actually only lived there for 3 years of my life. I was an American but I wasn't up on what that meant.  The years after were tough.  College was a come down after my high school years overseas.  The flip side of the romance of being an American abroad, is when you return home other American's aren't so interested in hearing about your experiences, they can't relate, and I understand why, it's just too foreign.

I guess as I watch my own child prepare to leave home in all ways, becoming an adult, I wonder what will her memories be of this time in her life? Will she ever experience being an outsider in another country and be able to celebrate that experience with other peers as I was so fortunate to do many years ago?  I certainly hope so.

Unamuno - What Makes A Saintly Person?

I'm working with a student who is reading college level Spanish literature and Unamuno, a Spanish writer from the 1920-30's, writes this story about a Priest who practices in the mountain village that he grew up in.  He is kind, helping people in all walks of their life. When they are dying he holds their hands and comforts them, assuring them of the angels and peacefulness of heaven.  The catch is he doesn't believe there is an afterlife.  He essentially believes it is more important to give his congregation the comfort of their faith and help them be happy in this, then acknowledge his own disbelief in heaven and hell. 

His daily acts in his life lead him to being beautified - translation: nominated for sainthood.  The reader is left wondering, should he be made a saint? He does selfless wonderful things all the time, but lies in so doing.  What do you think? 

Imagine if Cinderella Was a Fraud

Having adopted older children,  I have learned a lot about attachment disorder.  This is a disorder found in children who have lived in orphanages for long periods of time, or who have been abandoned or abused in their lives.  This disorder presents itself in a child not able to trust adults, attach emotionally to a significant adult parental figure.  Often a child with attachment disorder is very manipulative and sneaky, cleverly able to "triangulate" the mother and father, setting one up against the other by behaving very differently when with one or the other. To the public however, they present as the ideal child. Their public behavior can be model.  The longer the child with attachment disorder is with a family the more pronounced the disorder can become because attachment should be occurring over time and the stress of resisting it creates a great deal of stress on the child. Distancing behavior, such as stealing, lying, hurting others and random emotional outbreaks are some of the common behaviors found in a emotionally detached child.  It is hard to imagine any child behaving a such a deceptive way.  If you've seen the horror film "Orphan" there are elements that ring true, even though on the whole it is a terrible film.  Living with a calculating child is very counter-intuitive as a parent and at times scary as hell. Again it is hard to fathom unless you are in a house with a child with attachment disorder.  On the other hand, the reason the child has attachment disorder is because they were neglected, abused or institutionalized, so they aren't to blame for their abandonment and how, regardless of how unhealthy, they have learned to manage their feelings.

Without going into the personal details of what happened in my own family, the experience got me to thinking about stories that are part of our childhood experience that explore the theme of orphaned and mistreated children. There are many of these tales; Pinocchio, Harry Potter and Cinderella for example.  The plot often is of a sad and abandoned child who is eventually "saved" by new parents or a caring adult.  Many of us believe that love heals all things, including an emotionally fractured childhood.  I certainly believed this to be true, but this was before I lived with a mentally ill child.  I still believe love can heal, but it takes more then love at times.

As I said I started thinking about the orphaned characters and the awful step-parents in some of these stories.  The possibility occurred to me that if the details were skewed in Cinderella so that the step mother and sisters could become the victims and Cinderella could in fact be the deceptive person then you might have a somewhat accurate representation of what some adopted parents are experiencing living with their attachment disordered children.  In this rendition of the tale, Cinderella would be taken in by her "adopted" family. Her sisters would share everything with her, include her in their social lives and see her as very much a member of the family.  Initially, as valuable items such as cell phones, game boys, jewelry and money belonging to individual family members and people at Cinderella's school begin to disappear everyone suspects that Cinderella is the culprit.  People are sympathetic towards Cinderella given the deprivation she came from it is understandable she would covet other people's belongings.  

Over time however, weird things begin to happen in Cinderella's house.  The cat gets hurt repeatedly, and there are tacks placed where her step-mother sits and will walk, Cinderella lashes out at a sibling unprovoked and clocks them in the head with a wooden carving.  The family becomes alarmed and initiates some much needed therapy.  Cinderella manipulates the therapists into believing the family isn't caring for her properly, that she is alone and sad. Other people who have known Cinderella's family for years realize that this cannot be so and see some of the strange things happening around the house  Friends witness some of the bizarre and hurtful behavior and realize that the image Cinderella hopes to portray is a fraud, and she in fact is the meanest of them all.  Of course this is a fairy tale, nothing ever happens this clearly, but you are getting the jist of my rewritten fairy tale.  Again, doesn't it feel counter-intuitive to even believe this?

So while that "Orphan" movie was over the top and creepy and unreal on many levels, parts of it seemed familiar, not just to me but to other parents I've met and talked to with older adoptive children who have attachment disorder.  One mother described waking up with a note pinned to her PJ's that was left by her teenaged adopted child with a hand drawn picture of herself being stabbed to death, red blood dripping off the knife.  Another family told of the carefully drawn picture of the snake, fangs drawn and also dripping in blood found in the father's "Things to Do" notebook with a message saying "I love you mom and dad" written next to the snakes open mouth.  So, while Harry Potter had a terrible go of it sleeping in the hall closet and dealing with Dudley his adoptive brother, and I wouldn't want to be Cinderella ever, there are cases when what appears to be isn't always what it is.

Love, Cooking and of Course, EATING!

When I first met my husband there were several things I liked about him immediately.  He wasn't afraid to talk politics, we shared similar views on many things and when we didn't there was plenty of food for thought.  At the time we were living in Washington, D.C. and Reagan was in office, so we complained to each other, shaking our head about the state of things.  Another thing I liked about him was his Dutch-ness.  He is from The Netherlands and if you've never been there you are missing out on a treat. It is truly charming, the green flat landscape dotted with windmills and farms, the little cafes and restaurants and winding streets in the cities, the old and young people zipping around on bikes, the row houses along canals.  The Dutch have a sense of self righteousness. They are proud of the bravery of Anne Frank and the Dutch who helped in resisting the Germans, and also of their social system that protects people from dying on the street.  The Dutch people have a good sense of humor but also can lack in tact in my opinion, which can be charming and aggravating at the same time, my husband is no exception here.  On one of our first dates every time I tried to make a point and my now husband didn't get he'd ask "And so what?"  At first I felt like smacking him but as the evening and the wine flowed on I was glad to have someone be honest about not understand what I was trying to say.  

The thing I found most charming about my husband when we first met was not his accent or his politics, it was that he loved to cook.  After returning from teaching in Africa to D.C. that same year, and then earning a whopping $10,000 a year working at a city Catholic school I was eating a hell of a lot of mac and cheese, cheap and filling.  Fine dining wasn't in the picture at that time. To be invited to his house and served an amazing dinner, oohlaalaa. I would be treated to delicacies of fine seafood or meat in delicious sauces and wines and fresh strawberries with whipped cream not out of a cool whip container, I was in heaven.  

The ritual of cooking and then slowly enjoying a fantastic dinner with good conversation has continued to be a part of our lives even with 5 kids.  In a time when so much of our life together is full of stress, decision making and the same issues all families must deal with, it is a luxury and a pleasure still to sit down and enjoy a well made meal, and of course look across the table at my sweet husband.  I can't say I often experience "The Joy of Cooking" but there is something heartening about cooking on a cold rainy Saturday, like today, and watching the ones you love eating and chatting together around the dining room table, enjoying the warmth and love of one another's company. 

Talk About The Old Boys!

Obama gave a 52 minute speech last night addressing the realities of the proposed health care reform versus the untruths being spread about it by those opposed to it.  I am biased, I admit it right out. I believe that proper health care is a human right, as is education.  We have public universities and still the private colleges and universities are surviving, why wouldn't private insurers do fine along side publicly funded health care insurance for those who really need it? Seems like a good idea to me.  The system is definitely broken and so now is the time to fix it.  

Really though I am not writing about the health care issue, I am writing today about what I saw of the old boy system during that speech last night. As the camera panned out to show Obama's view of the audience, you could see this sea of (republican) men mostly, arms crossed and faces scowling, shaking their heads at Obama.  More then a few of these "gentlemen" disagreed in such an ugly way, behaving like spoilt children, one even yelling out "you lie!" Makes you wonder who the hell elected them.  

What I saw beyond bad white male behavior was racism at its worst. Honestly I saw men who hated being addressed by a black man, they were furious.  As a woman I've seen this response to women in power who are a threat, so it is not new to me.  The old boy institutional racism, where white men could always count on their seat at the table, that institutional strong hold has been shaken to the core with Obama's election victory.  Every time those guys looked at Obama last night they were reminded of it. Certainly their concerns about the health care bill go beyond Obama and back to their political careers, the indebtedness of some to the insurance and pharmaceutical lobbyist no doubt.  I just was appalled at the overall immature and blatant hostility exhibited by these representatives.  If they feel entitled enough to act this way while on television no less, then I wonder how safe Obama really is as he travels and talks to the public.  He leads by his example, I just wish everyone would follow with the same dignity.

A Word from Our President: Work Hard in School

As an educator I was often looking for positive "outside the school building" role models for our students. Some of the inside the school building models were not always the best to be quite honest. Working with students of color during this past presidential election was one of the most interesting and exciting experiences I have had over twenty years in the field.  Over and over the kids would say that if Obama could do it any one of them could.  Most children have hope, but the quality of hope with his election spilled into possibility and affirmation for my students.

So as the school year starts up kids all over the country were supposed to hear from Obama, in the pre-recorded message about doing your best, being mindful of civic responsibility and I am keeping your head in the academic game. I understand there were also lesson plans involved that were taken back to appease critics.  The far right have made an issue of Obama trying to brainwash our kids, saying he was using his speech as a tool to spread his political propaganda. OOOhhhh K.  

The idea that our president is trying to brainwash our children to do well in school, as this is the central focus of the speech, must be frightening to those who don't want our kids to well right?  God forbid students should hear from the leader of their country that they should try hard, ask when they need help, be respectful to teachers, and be good citizens.  How this is turned into a political issue is beyond me.  This symbolizes the worst kind of pettiness from the far right in my mind.  Our children, meaning all of students in the U.S., need to know they can succeed and should be reminded of the qualities they must possess to do so.  The greater the variety of sources they receive this message from the easier the job of teachers and parents becomes.