Most of the kids I work with already have a wealth of resources at their disposal.   Some attend expensive private schools, enjoy the support of dedicated guidance counselors, and hire a cadre of private tutors to make sure they excel.  Others go to regular public schools and invest in a test prep course to make the best of their chances. 

Sometimes I feel guilty for helping kids with plenty while others don’t have that advantage.  It isn’t fair.  But the kids I work with have the same confidence issues and test anxiety as any other teen, and it really feels good to help them do their best.  I feel all mixed up about that. 

A couple of months ago I had an opportunity to tutor a couple of students from inner city Detroit.  As you may know, the Detroit Public Schools are in desperate straits after decades of financial corruption .  The problems in that city are huge, and thousands of children are caught in the crossfire of politics, poverty, racism and so many things outside their control.   

But in this case, a handful of caring adults found some motivated high school students and took them under their wings.  They channeled their passions into advocacy and service.  Within this group, they identified kids with promise and committed to helping them get into a great college.  That’s where I entered the picture.

Two kids I tutored, D and B, seem just like any high schoolers you might meet.  They’re fashionable and funny.  They’re also respectful, highly motivated, and engaged in their community.  They do many projects helping underpriviledged kids and hungry folks in Detroit. 

I noticed that D and B had their own hurdles that most kids I know don’t face.  They rode public buses or hitched rides to our meeting location–no parents drove them.  They didn’t have easy internet access, so they borrowed the computer at the office where we met.  They couldn’t afford the expensive graphing calculator  most high schoolers use, so they passed one around for homework and tests.   These little things required time, planning and energy that most of us take for granted.  I was pleased to meet some kids in Detroit who overcame these hurdles and showed leadership potential. 

Then I learned more about their stories.

B’s father died suddenly in the middle of her junior year.  Her family relocated, and she had trouble getting to school, due to both transportation logistics and difficulty coping with her father’s death.  Her grades plummeted, but an inspiring summer school teacher sparked her interest in school again.   In short order, she turned her grades around and hopes to make it into a good university.

D has lived in poverty his entire life.  He admires his mother who attends school and works temporary jobs to support her family.  Last January they hit hard times, and his lights and gas were shut off for three weeks.  He coped with the bitter cold by wearing extra layers of clothing and doing homework by candlelight.  D wants a good education so he can break his own cycle of poverty.  He describes school as his escape, salvation and source of self-esteem.

I keep wrestling with a couple of things:  1)  the stark contrast between D and B’s experiences and the advantages my family enjoys; and 2) the striking similarities between these charming teens and the others I know. 

We’re all subject to the same tests, but the playing field is not level. 

Life isn’t fair, that’s for sure.   For now, I just hope my roundabout path through the wealthier suburbs might give D and B a boost that makes a difference. 

photo credit: e-magic

Maybe.  Or maybe not.  It depends.

I had fun reading the first book, and part of the second, but as I read deeper into the series, I began to feel queasy about issues that had nothing to do with vampires or sexual tension.  This saga is targeted to impressionable adolescents who are just beginning to sort out love and relationships.  

And I don’t want my sons or daughter to seek relationships like these. 

They probably won’t, since we don’t know any vampires or werewolves, but even so, I want to help my kids think through some of the following questions:

1)  What do you think of Bella Swan (the girl-next-door heroine)? 

Do you think Bella is good role model?  What makes her appealing beyond her looks (and apparently, her scent)?  Is she interested in anything besides Edward Cullen?  Do you think her accident-prone nature is endearing?  Does she believe in herself?  Do you relate to her struggles?  Would you want to be Bella’s friend?   

2)  What do you think of Edward Cullen (the hot–excuse me, cold– vampire boyfriend)?

Okay, Edward is gorgeous, chivalrous, sophisticated, and did I say gorgeous?   I might swoon for him too (except for the cold, hard, sparkly skin part–that’s not for me).  What do you like about the way he treats Bella?  Does anything concern you?   What do you think about the multiple-century age difference between them?

3)  How about Jacob Black (the other friend/werewolf)?

What qualities do you see in Jacob?  What makes him different from Edward?  Who would you prefer as a friend?

3)  Are there any humans in this series you could look up to?

Are there any (human) women you admire in this movie?  What about men?  (Do you hear the sound of crickets chirping?)

4)  What do you think of Edward and Bella’s relationship?

It’s really exciting to be loved, rescued and protected by a superhuman dreamboat who would do anything for you.   Edward clearly loves Bella.  But seriously, how much fun would it really be to be Edward Cullen’s girlfriend (aside from the constant threat of peril)?  Would you really enjoy being watched nonstop, even while you weren’t aware of it?  What if your boyfriend forbid you to go places or talk to certain people?   What if he got really angry and out of control sometimes?  Are these signs of a healthy relationship, or not?

When Edward leaves her, Bella falls into deep depression until she befriends another guy (Jacob).   Do you think Bella could be happy without a boy?  If you were her friend, what advice would you give Bella?  Do you know the warning signs of serious depression?  What are some healthier ways to deal with heartbreak? 

*******************************

Now, many of you might feel like I’m getting much too serious about this fantasy.  I get that.  I think people can enjoy the passionate thrill of these movies.  My boys will probably roll their eyes and moan, “Mom, you’re doing it again.  We can handle this–we know it’s not like real life!”  and that’s okay with me.  That’s my job as their mother.  I need to be sure my kids don’t want to be just like Edward.  Or Bella.  Or both, together.   Because that could become a bloody mess–for real. 

If you’re looking for balanced information to decide whether movies, games or books are age appropriate, I highly recommend Common Sense Media. 

With the above caveats, I hope you enjoy the movie, the adventure, and the eye candy.    Let me know what you think. 

They had the amazing opportunity to don authentic Japanese costumes and march in the Hikone Shiro-matsuri (Castle Festival) Parade:

The boys are probably thinking, “Don’t mess with me.  I’m carrying a sword.”

And a beautiful blend of the two cultures, old and new:

“Once you have traveled, the voyage never ends, but is played out over and over again in the quiestest chambers. The mind can never break off from the journey.” - Pat Conroy, The Prince of Tides

I sent my fourteen year old son around the world to Japan last weekend.  He’s traveling with a dozen eighth and ninth graders (and two teachers) to our sister city of Hikone.  He’ll live with our friend Kohei, explore Kyoto and Hiroshima, and embark on the adventure of a lifetime.  I’m not superstitious, but the fact that he left on Halloween and will return on Friday the 13th did give me slight pause, mostly for the irony. 

I’ve been choked up about his departure, but not for the reasons you might expect.  Once the plane lands safely (and it already has), my heart really doesn’t fear something terrible happening.  Perhaps that’s protective denial, but I’m really quite comfortable with his safety.  What keeps needling me is how this will impact his view of the world.  He’ll have a real connection with a family and teens in a completely different culture, and he’ll learn how similar we are where it really counts.  He’ll get a glimpse of the impact, more than 50 years later, of a real weapon of mass destruction, and offer a small gesture of peace.  He’ll visit shrines and temples and gain some respect for completely different religions. 

With all these experiences, he can’t help but come back a different son.  I look forward to that, while at the same time I’m sentimental about saying goodbye to the innocent one.  Does that make sense?

Lest I wax on too seriously, I know he’s still a teenager.  I hope he will be sensitive about his world travels around others who might never enjoy such an experience, but I know that will be hard.  I also know much of his “adventure” won’t be lofty but more quirky things only teen would notice.  Here’s a quick rundown of the teen perspective through our preparation:

Sensei’s advice:  Don’t mess with the fancy toilets. 

Teen’s response:  I can’t wait to play with the fancy toilets.

Sensei’s advice:  DO NOT FEED THE DEER (at the Itsukushima Jinja Shrine).  THEY WILL ATTACK YOU. 

Teen’s response:  Let’s get (my funny friend) to feed the deer and see what happens.

Sensei’s advice:  Remember the honor bestowed upon you.  Don’t get too goofy with the Samurai sword you’ll carry in the parade. 

Teen’s response:  Oh boy!  We get to play with real Samurai swords. 

Sensei’s advice:  Don’t even think about buying beer from the vending machines. 

Mom’s response:  I don’t even want to think about it.

Take home lesson:  Remember the power of suggestion.  Never say, “Don’t do this adventerous thing” to a teenager (or his parents!)

May God’s blessings be upon them through the next couple of weeks, on the plane or in the toilets!

photo credit: lrargerich

“It was crazy, mom,” my sixth grade son breathed when he burst through the door after his first middle school fun night.

“Is that good?” I wondered, my imagination filling with crazy things that could happen in middle school.

“I think it was the best night of my life!” he gushed. 

Whew.  I breathed a sigh of relief and basked in his excitement as he told me all about the pizza, the dodge ball, and the crazy dancing, with everyone jumping and shouting to the hippest tunes.  He demonstrated, jumping, bobbing his head and waving one arm high:  “You (bounce, bounce) change your mind (bounce, bounce) like a girl (bounce, bounce) changes clothes (bounce, bounce). . . ”  I was energized and exhausted at the same time, just watching him buzz through the joy of youth.

“Well, he’s an extrovert,” my rather introverted husband deadpanned.  An understatement, if ever there was one.  This son definitely draws his energy from the crowd. 

Fun nights are a huge improvement over the junior high dances I remember.  No longer do opposite sexes line up against the wall, awkwardly awaiting an invitation or hiding away in the crowd.  At our school, fun night includes options for the wild diversity of teen or tweenhood:  swimming, basketball, dodge ball, food, dancing (mostly in groups), or just hanging out.   Kids are given opportunities to find their comfort zone and revel in it.  Chaperoning one of these events is a fascinating window to the middle school habitat. 

Of course, there’s no escaping the complicated social dynamics of that age.  At any given turn, for mysterious reasons, one can slide from the top of this exciting roller coaster to the depths, wondering if he’ll ever rise again. 

For tonight, my boy is feeling the thrill of the ride, and I’m thrilled with him.  I hope that he hangs on to that confidence as the roller coaster lurches through its necessary twists and turns, the recent joy boosting him through the low scoops. 

And I pray that he stays safe and securely buckled for the duration.

photo credit: thecrypt

Image via Wikipedia

In a few short weeks, I’ll be putting my eighth grade son on a plane to Japan for the experience of a lifetime.  He’s traveling as one of twelve middle school student ambassadors to our sister city of Hikone, Japan for a couple of weeks.  He’ll stay with a Japanese host family, attend a Japanese middle school, march in Samurai costume in a city parade, meet dignitaries, and do all sorts of exciting things.  Prior to that, we’ll be hosting a Hikone student in our home.

Amidst all of the fundraising, language practice, cultural courses and sushi feasts is the project of making one thousand origami paper cranes to present at the Children’s Peace Monument in the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park.  The monument was erected in memory of a girl named Sadako Sasaki who contracted leukemia after the atomic bombing of Hiroshima during World War II.  During Sadako’s illness, she believed that folding 1000 paper cranes would make her wish for wellness come true.  As her health declined, she changed her wish to world peace, and when she died, her school friends rallied to erect the Children’s Memorial Park in her honor.  Her story is told in the children’s book Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes.  Today, the paper crane has become a symbol for peace, and visitors from around the world present about ten million origami cranes at the monument as a peace offering.   Our kids will be part of that tradition.

Right now, for my son, the paper folding project is one more thing to do.  He knows it is significant, but as a middle schooler immersed in the here and now, it’s not that easy to grasp.  He’s honored to be selected, and he’s busy bonding with classmates, adjusting to eighth grade homework and saving for an ipod to take on the plane.  He’s mostly excited to meet his new friends, practice his Japanese, try the food and check out the high-tech (or low-tech, sometimes) toilets. 

As his mother, the lump in my throat rises as the trip gets closer.  I know what a huge opportunity this is.  I know he will be changed by the experience.  I know that when he can navigate around a foreign country, I won’t be able to clip his wings at home.   I know he’ll have so many stories to share, there won’t be time for him to tell me everything.   Some of those he’ll keep to himself, and that’s part of growing up. 

So I pick up a piece of the pretty paper and make my own wish for these young ambassadors:  for health, for safety, for friendship, and yes, for peace. 

Here, one fold at a time, is where it begins.

Lately, one of my loving offspring has invoked a new move that completely unnerves me –

The Silent Staredown.  It’s sort of a cross between this:

and this:

I wish I could eloquently describe this to you.  It’s not a deer-in-the-headlights look, and it’s not an “I hate you right now” look, it’s more like, “I know you’ll get mad if I don’t pay attention, so I’m going to pay attention in the most unnerving way possible by looking at you with zero expression and refusing to blink, speak or react in any way  for what will feel like hours.”  It’s used quite masterfully when I’m trying to impart very important information and hoping for a two-way conversation.   When deployed skillfully, my brain turns to mush, I completely forget the very important information that I’m trying to communicate, and any hope for a two-way conversation is out the window.

The trouble is that I think I’ve actually created this monster move.  How many times have I said, “Please look at me when I’m talking to you?”  or “Wait until I’m finished before you interrupt?”  It probably frustrates me because I absolutely cannot return the favor.  I’m so transparent that you’d have to inject me with gallons of Botox to keep my face neutral throughout the staredown.  And yes, it would probably be somewhat immature to engage in a staredown with my son.   Oh, how children (especially adolescents) bring out the best in us! 

So what’s a mother to do?  Ask him to avert his eyes?  That’s not my style.  I want to disengage this power play dynamic within my family.   

So far, my best response has been to stop talking, try to stare back and then crack up laughing.  It breaks the tension and we can start over again. 

Do your kids use the staredown tactic?  What do you do?

My two older boys — 7th and 5th grade – are both wrapping up the end of the school year with “health” units (code for sex education).  I’m a firm believer in age-appropriate sex ed, and we’ve had a variety of conversations over the years, but I was curious how “age-appropriate” would pan out in my household of 13 & 11 year old boys and a very curious 8 year old girl.   So far it’s gone quite well, and I have the ultimate respect for the teachers who take on this task in a co-ed classroom setting. 

I know parents have very different comfort levels, and if your kids are very young, this seem awkward or scary.  It does sneak up on you when you least expect it, though!  One summer when my boys were 6 and 8, I was frantically busy leading our Vacation Bible School and sex ed was the furthest thing from my mind.  My boys came home from a good neighbor’s house filled with all kinds of misinformation.  At that point I decided (or maybe they decided) it was time to discuss the subject. 

Sexuality information is widely available from trustworthy and not-so-trustworthy sources, and the most important thing to me is that my children receive accurate, factual, respectful information and that we have honest, open conversations about the ethical/moral/spiritual issues. 

My three kids have very different personalities, so we’ve discussed sex in different ways.  My oldest doesn’t share much, so while I know he has the information, I don’t hear the daily details.  My 5th grader has raced home from school, pulled out the handouts and shared all about the videos and conversations of the day.  It’s prompted great conversations with both sons (much to the chagrin of my oldest, I’m afraid!). 

My 8 year old is absorbing a lot, of course.  The older ones are trying to protect her from scandalous information, such as sketches of the female reproductive system.  I think they want to feel they have some proprietary information — very amusing to me!

As the topic arises, I’ve found it very helpful to have some books on hand to share and discuss, and for the kids to have on the shelf when they’re feeling privately curious.  I thought I’d share with you some resources that have worked for our family at different ages:

• for younger/middle elementary:  What’s the Big Secret?  Talking about sex with girls and boys by Laurie Krazny Brown, Ed.D., and Marc Brown.  This comic-style book illustrated by the Arthur creator gives helpful content in a friendly, non-threating way.
• for older elementary girls:  The Care and Keeping of Me:  The Body Book for Girls by the American Girl Series.  I look forward to sharing this with my daughter in a year or so, and I really wish they’d make one for boys!
• for upper elementary boys:  What’s Happening to Me?  by Alex Frith.  This friendly illustrated Usborne book answers questions like “How do I shave?”, “When will my voice break?” “What’s testosterone for?” and “Why are girls different?”   Please note that it has detailed information and illustrations about boys and girls. 
• for middle school/teens:  The What’s Happening to My Body? Book for Boys by Lynda Madaras.  This is a more mature, explicit book with a wealth of get-real information, including quotes from real boys, how to figure what’s normal and what’s not, romantic and sexual feelings, and a comprehensive resource section.  It does include discussion of homosexuality and other sensitive topics, so be sure to preview first (as with any sexuality book).

I hope I haven’t scared any of you with younger ones away, but it doesn’t hurt to think about your approach before you’re caught off guard.  My advice is to be prepared to share age-appropriate information whenever the kids (not necessarily we adults!) are ready. 

For information on what is age-appropriate, check out this article by Thomas Haller:  What children should know about sex through the developmental stages.

What are your thoughts on this hot topic?  What resources would you add to the list? 

photo credit: Rob Gallop

It was our first day of spring break, so it must be time to start up the sibling wars.  It was also time to nip this in the bud — right here — right now.  I think we’ve been here before. 

Instead of forcing apologies, we “invited” the boys to take some time to contemplate what they learned and what they might do next time.  After the requisite protests, moans and groans, they wrote one another the following essays (printed with permission from the authors):

from N, age 10:

I can avoid fighting my brother in many ways.  I could just left him alone and find something else to play.  I could have gone outside again.  Me and D. could have watched Dad play his game.  Or we could have played more wii.  Me and D. could have talked do A. about our idea.  I should not have acted the way I did.  I feel very bad about my actions.  I should not have bent your arm back.  I should not have stabbed you with a pencil.  Next time I will just walk away or found something else to do.  Me and D. are both very sorry for our actions and we will never do it again.  Next time I will walk away or just leave A. alone.  I am very extreamly super sorry that I almost broke your arm.

Sincerely, N.

from A, age 13:

I think overreacting isn’t a good thing, but many of us are prone to it.  It helps to avoid a situation altogether, but sometimes if we are attacked, then we need to make a decision.  Its a dilemma, that decision, but there is a higher road.  In case your wondering, there are 3 choices. 

One, retaliate.  This may work, but often leads to overreacting, and someone getting hurt. 

2, let it happen to you.  This may get you hurt, but its all together more peaceful than option 1.

Then theres option 3.  Option 3 is the high road.  Option 3 is the way out of it.  Option 3 is getting away.  If its a brother attacking you or fighting anywhere else, option 3 is the way to go.  It may leave you or someone else with some steam to blow off, but nobody gets hurt.

I have experienced all 3 options, and with numbers one and two I have eventually overreacted.  3 I’m just all angry and hyped up.  Overreacting will get you into trouble and it will get sombody hurt.  It may even get you into writing an essay on it.  Overreacting will probably get you into a fight.  You may be defending your self from a playfull “sneak atack” from your brother.  Or you might overreact and spaz to the result of a football game and throw something at someone.  Either way its not good, and people will get upset with you.  Even common bystanders.  Like a sister when two brothers are fighting.  So overreacting is something we all just need to avoid, at all costs.

After working awhile, and sneaking little snickers with each other (which I chose to ignore), they cooled down and came to me with a proposal:  instead of separate essays of the requested length, they stapled both essays together as a unified symbol of family cooperation. 

With pleasure, I accepted, and stashed the letters in our memory box.  Maybe we’ll get through spring break after all.  

What tricks do you have up your sleeve to stem sibling arguments?

photo credit: hey skinny

*****(1)*****

Today Christians commemorate Good Friday in preparation for Easter Sunday.  I must admit, I’ve always wrestled with the concept of calling the day of Jesus’ crucifixion “good”.  Yes, the heart of Christianity rests on the death and resurrection of Christ, so I know the ultimate sacrifice on this day is inherently “good”.  I’ve studied many theological explanations of what happened on that cross.  Still, even though I have faith, it’s still hard for my wee little brain to grasp or explain. 

Tony Jones, however, explains it in a way that resonates with me.   It generated quite a debate in his comments (I’m drawn to those controversial theologians, I guess).  If you’re curious, check out Tony’s Good Friday post over here .

*****(2)*****

I have hope–dare I say it?–that spring is on its way in Michigan.  We had a snow day last Monday, but it melted away quickly and life is just beginning to peek its way through the crud.  It’s a long wait in these parts, but it inspires a huge celebration of spring–people pour out onto the sidewalks, spirits lifted, and really appreciate the sun on their faces. 

Kinda like Easter after Good Friday.

*****(3)*****

As spring arrives, we’re more likely to put on a happy face, so I thought I’d sneak in a picture of my son singing “Put on a Happy Face” at the Tappan Middle School production of Bye Bye Birdie last weekend (thanks for the photos, Lichee!):

He’s on the far left peeking under the brim of his too-big hat.  We’re still basking in the glow of this amazing community production showcasing the talents of just 180 middle schoolers. 

*****(4)*****

Did I mention that Minnie Driver, who happens to be filming a movie in our town, visited the Bye Bye Birdie cast and offered insights on starting her acting career in middle school?   Is it okay that I felt somewhat jealous, especially when my son had no idea who she is?

*****(5)*****

Speaking of community productions, I’ve been thinking about how people build community:  why is there so much community support and participation in some circles, and less in others?  What makes it “click”?  I welcome any insights.  More to come on that topic.

*****(6)*****

Last night, I noticed my middle son’s shoulders were a little broader, his voice a little stronger, and his demeanor a little. . . tween-er?    And oh yes, the type of underwear I buy is suddenly very important.  It sort of snuck up on me, but I think boy #2 is growing up too.    Thank goodness I still have my little girl.  But she wants to be a teenager so badly that she’s not acting so little any more either. 

You know what, though?  It’s a really fun ride.

*****(7)*****

Speaking of growing up, we’re approaching the weeks when TWO of my kids have “health” courses (code for sex ed) coming up at the same time.  In the heat of spring.  That’s gonna be. . . a fun ride.

On that note, I wish you all the blessings of spring, with all the beautiful celebrations and traditions, including Passover and Easter this week.