Unequal Childhoods
Adult nonfiction
"Laughing and yelling, a white fourth-grader named Garrett
Tallinger splashes around in the swimming pool in the backyard of his
four-bedroom home in the suburbs on a late spring afternoon. As on
most evenings, after a quick dinner his father drives him to soccer
practice. This is only one of Garrett's many activities. His brother
has a baseball game at a different location. There are evenings when
the boys' parents can relax, sipping a glass of wine. Tonight is not
one of them. As they rush to change out of their work clothes and get
their children ready for practice, Mr. and Mrs. Tallinger are harried."
The Tallingers are one of the twelve families portrayed in
Annette Lareau's Unequal Childhoods. Now in a second (2011) edition,
it's a must read for teachers, social workers, clergy, parents, and
basically all others who work with children. It exposes a hidden
classism that allows Americans and American institutions to disallow
relative privilege as a crucial factor in children's life trajectories
and demonize poorer children, families, and communities for factors
beyond their control. This bias also sees the practices of the
relatively well off as across the board superior to those of the less
affluent rather than ascribing assets to both.
"America may be the land of opportunity, but it is also a land
of inequality. This book identifies the largely invisible but
powerful ways that parents' social class impacts children's life
experiences. It shows, using in-depth observations and interviews
with middle-class (including members of the upper-middle-class),
working-class, and poor families, that inequality permeates the fabric
of the culture. In the chapters that lie ahead, I report the results
of intensive observational research for a total of twelve families
when their children were nine and ten years old. I argue that key
elements of family life cohere to form a cultural logic of child
rearing. In other words, the differences among families seem to
cluster together in meaningful patterns..."
More affluent families engage in what Lareau calls concentrated
cultivation. Family life centers around a plethora of structured
activities children engage in. A month in Garrett Tallinger's life
includes 34 organized activities, 3 involving travel or overnight.
(And he's one of three siblings!) Parents engage in reasoning rather
than directives and other linguistic techniques of improving
vocabularies and verbal skills. They also intervene with schools and
other institutions when their children experience discomfort and use a
plethora of advantages to place and maintain their offspring on a
track to the best colleges and an elite future.
In contrast, working class and poor families engage in natural
growth. Children participate in few, if any, organized activities.
They are free to structure much of their nonschool time. Playing with
neighborhood friends and engaging with relatives are central to their
lives. Parents use directives instead of reasoning and speak to kids
a lot less often. They are much less likely to intervene when
children experience school discomfort and lack the insider knowledge
and connections for advancing their children's post secondary school
prospects.
Unequal childhoods is highly readable, skillfully interweaving
background, narrative, and theory. I see it as a must read for anyone
concerned about the decidedly unequal (and becoming more so) prospects
for a decent life that our children face. I can only hope that people
in the more privileged segments of our society will read it and
realize (in an image Lareau presents) that they started out on third
base instead of hitting a triple.
On a personal note, I had a lovely weekend. Saturday I wrote poetry
outside near my dafodills and wind chimes. Eugene and I started
Mothers' Day by stopping by his mom's house to give her a card and
flowers. Then we went on a drive. We stopped at thrift shops and a
flea market. I found really cute shirts including TWO CAT SHIRTS.
(Shirts with cat pictures for me, not an attempt to improve on Joey's
purrrrrfect natural tuxedo). We had lunch at Mickey D's. I saw my
son and his fiancée. They plan to take me out for ice cream. I heard
from my girls. I'll see them Saturday.
From a global perspective, I'm a privileged parent. Our kids grew up
with good food, a warm home with running water and electricity.
Religious extremists didn't try to keep my daughters out of school.
Bombs, land mines, and AK47 bearing soldiers weren't everyday perils.
Eugene and I didn't have to entrust our family to a treacherous sea
crossing.
If you are raising or have raised children under similar privileges
please don't ignore those parenting in dire circumstances. A little
money to organizations that help refugees, welcoming any who make it
to your neighborhood, fighting for laws that don't betray the promise
most of our non indiginous ancestors arrived here under...it all
helps. I will continue to seek out and publicize books that bring
their plight to your attention.
A great big shout out to mothers striving to parent under treacherous
conditions. I can't help being reminded of a teen mother who gave
birth in a stable, the inns being full, and had to flee people who
wanted to slay her child.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Monday, May 14, 2018
Saturday, May 12, 2018
Longing And Belonging
Longing And Belonging
Adult nonfiction
"What does buying mean to children and their parents? Why does
buying for children seem to generate so much anxiety and concern? If
consumer culture is the 'enemy' of good parenting, why do so many
parents invite the enemy into their homes?"
As the mother of three young children, Alison Pugh struggled
with the above questions. Lucky for us, she logged serious research
time. The result of her quest was Longing And Belonging: Parents,
Children, and Consumer Culture.
I think most of us who are parenting or have done so recently
have experienced 'anxiety and concern'. Why does my child covet that
video game, brand of sneakers, doll...with such intensity? Why are my
fellow parents caving, even when it would seem to go against their
values? Will it really hurt my child if I don't go along?
One of my most anxiety provoking parenting experiences started
when my younger daughter came home from Girl Scouts with a permission
slip. Her troop had won a mall sleep over opportunity. Stores would
be open exclusively for them with all kinds of perks. In an already
consumption obsessed society, why were they making shopping even more
glamerous and addictive? Girl Scouts? Weren't they supposed to be
all about camping and ethics and values?
I did not sign the slip. I knew at least two other moms who had
a healthy dislike of materialism. I counted on them joining me in
abstaining. When I was the only hold out, I approached them
individually and asked why they allowed their daughters to
participate. Both indicated a great deal of discomfort in their
resignation. Yeah, I hate this. But what can I do?
Then other parents approached me more aggressively. Obviously I
didn't love Katie. If I did, I wouldn't make her miss out. All her
friends would be talking about the experience and she'd be on the
outside. How could I?
I have described this experience in such detail because it
segues so neatly into Pugh's findings. Although ubiquitous
advertising manipulates children and very much leads to too much
buying, it isn't the whole story. Children covet key belongings and
experiences, not only due to the genius of Madison Avenue, but because
of what she calls economies of dignity.
"The dictionary defines dignity as 'the quality or state of
being worthy,' but we might reasonably ask, worthy of what? I suggest
that for children a vital answer is 'worthy of belonging.' I use
'dignity' to mean the most basic sense of children's particpation in
their social world, what the Nobel Prize-winning economist Amartya Sen
called an 'absolute capability...to take part in the life of the
community.' With dignity, children are visible to their peers, and
granted the aural space, the very right to speak in their own
community's conversation.'"
Of course the parents criticizing me couldn't have read the
book. Katie was in high school when it was published. But basically
they were accusing me of denying my daughter the right to be visible
to and heard by her peers.
Pugh spent years volunteering and observing chldren at a poor
school's after school care, an elite public school, and a private
school. She talked to their teachers and staff. She did extensive
interviews with parents from fifty-four families in their natural
environments. (At one point when she talks to a child and her mother
she and the daughter are painting their nails).
Pugh's narrative tells us how economies of dignity play out for
children in different economic groups, how children approach parents
to obtain the items they believe will lead to more securely belonging,
and how parents handle these requests. This includes the feelings and
thoughts behind their responses. Not surprisingly kids across the
spectrum coveted pretty much the same items, electronics holding a
very special status. Also not surprisingly, rich parents' mental
gymnastics were qualitatively different than those of poor parents for
whom even providing the necessities was a struggle. Surprisingly kids
across the spectrum experienced the same insecurities and
vulnerabilities.
One of the concepts in the book made me feel very angry because
Eugene and I brought our kids up on the "wrong side of the tracks" of
a relatively wealthy town. It was the concept of noblesse oblige. It
was exemplified by the mother who would routinely have her children
give some of their clothes and toys to the poor in a town in Central
America but kept them away from the local poor.
"...Like Dorothy, most of the affluent parents in this study
seemed to prefer that inequality serve as an abstract lesson in
charity and the responsibilities of the wealthy, rather than as a
concrete experience in empathy and what we owe each other as fellow
humans...."
This is a practice that perpetuates divisions rather than
ameleorating them. It also perpetuates the process of othering we see
across so many other spectrums (ie gender, race, religion) that allows
people to feel virtuous by helping those across the world while acting
crappy closer to home. I am sure the residents of my town who didn't
let their kids go to events as innocuous as a kindergarten birthday
party in my neighborhood wrote generous checks to organizations like
UNICEF and missions. I am by nature a very nonviolent person. But I
am going to share two instances when I had a sincere desire to deck
someone.
When my son was in I think first grade he visited a boy in his
class and came home with a haircut and new outfit. He seemed to like
them so I thanked the other mother. She and I went to see our sons
play rec sports. I was horrified to overhear her talking about how
she helped a poor little neglected child. Several parents looked my
way, not disguising a desire for drama. I did not act in a way that
would have confirmed every one of their class prejudices.
(Ironically, a couple of years later when my status was boosted by
being elected to school committee, I was a paradigm of parenting and
her chum).
When my older daughter was in third grade there was a well
attended school event. The mother of one of her friends loudly asked
her daughter why she wasn't doing as well (grade wise) as "that little
trailor park trash." My daughter whispered for me to not respond. I
couldn't help noticing that the other parents and even the teachers
said nothing to indicate that the mother had crossed a line. Maybe in
their minds she hadn't?
Anyway the book is really interesting and reader friendly. I'd
recommend it to parents, people who work with or plan to work with
children, and public policy creators.
At the end of the book Pugh speculates that adults may have
economies of dignity--required belongings and experiences that allow
one to be seen, heard, and accepted. Hell, yes! I used to belong to
a book club. Members all had kids in the same school. We updated
each other on our kids' news and chatted about school events, upcoming
holidays, weather, and the book. Then we had an influx of new
people. Suddenly to be heard and seen and belong you had to have
renovated your fancy house, gone to ritzy vaca destinations, belonged
to ski and country clubs, and acquired luxuries.
Wanna guess why I dropped out?
I just noticed that this review is lengthy compared to my usual
ones. Let's say it gave me lots of food for thought. Maybe it will
do the same for you.
On a personal note, Thursday I went to Lavender Graduation. It's a
lovely intimate graduation for LGBTQ students and allies that comes
before the official graduation. (Incidentally, I learned about the
grad program I will be starting in September at Lavender Graduation
2016). I had a number of people graduating but most especially
Russell who is one of my favorite people in the world. (I'm so lucky
he is staying around and not heading off somewhere far away like
Alaska). If you have a friend you can share any thoughts without
being afraid of judgement or work with in silence with the silence not
feeling awkward you have that kind of friend. I could tell Russell
was pleased that I was there. One of the most special ways we can be
real is mattering to the people who matter to us.
Then yesterday I went to the funeral of my husband's aunt, Arlene
Woodman. Her oldest daughter read a poem Arlene's husband had written
for her for a Valentines Day decades after the day she had caught his
eye by giving him a flower. That poem told people a lot more than the
preacher's whole sermon which seemed to be an infomercial about
getting right with Jesus to join her in heaven. During her time on
Earth, for better or worse and in sickness and health, Arlene Woodman
was adored by her beloved.
The take home message from the two events, which is one of the major
principals by which I live my life, is never pass up an opportunity to
tell or show the people you love how much they mean to you. Then you
won't be blindsided by regrets if they die or move to Alaska. I'm
sure my counselling center chums will agree with this.
A great big shout out goes out to all our UMaine students who are
graduating today and the grads of other fine institutions. You did
it! Congrats. Also to all the mothers who will be celebrating
Mothers Day tomorrow.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
"What does buying mean to children and their parents? Why does
buying for children seem to generate so much anxiety and concern? If
consumer culture is the 'enemy' of good parenting, why do so many
parents invite the enemy into their homes?"
As the mother of three young children, Alison Pugh struggled
with the above questions. Lucky for us, she logged serious research
time. The result of her quest was Longing And Belonging: Parents,
Children, and Consumer Culture.
I think most of us who are parenting or have done so recently
have experienced 'anxiety and concern'. Why does my child covet that
video game, brand of sneakers, doll...with such intensity? Why are my
fellow parents caving, even when it would seem to go against their
values? Will it really hurt my child if I don't go along?
One of my most anxiety provoking parenting experiences started
when my younger daughter came home from Girl Scouts with a permission
slip. Her troop had won a mall sleep over opportunity. Stores would
be open exclusively for them with all kinds of perks. In an already
consumption obsessed society, why were they making shopping even more
glamerous and addictive? Girl Scouts? Weren't they supposed to be
all about camping and ethics and values?
I did not sign the slip. I knew at least two other moms who had
a healthy dislike of materialism. I counted on them joining me in
abstaining. When I was the only hold out, I approached them
individually and asked why they allowed their daughters to
participate. Both indicated a great deal of discomfort in their
resignation. Yeah, I hate this. But what can I do?
Then other parents approached me more aggressively. Obviously I
didn't love Katie. If I did, I wouldn't make her miss out. All her
friends would be talking about the experience and she'd be on the
outside. How could I?
I have described this experience in such detail because it
segues so neatly into Pugh's findings. Although ubiquitous
advertising manipulates children and very much leads to too much
buying, it isn't the whole story. Children covet key belongings and
experiences, not only due to the genius of Madison Avenue, but because
of what she calls economies of dignity.
"The dictionary defines dignity as 'the quality or state of
being worthy,' but we might reasonably ask, worthy of what? I suggest
that for children a vital answer is 'worthy of belonging.' I use
'dignity' to mean the most basic sense of children's particpation in
their social world, what the Nobel Prize-winning economist Amartya Sen
called an 'absolute capability...to take part in the life of the
community.' With dignity, children are visible to their peers, and
granted the aural space, the very right to speak in their own
community's conversation.'"
Of course the parents criticizing me couldn't have read the
book. Katie was in high school when it was published. But basically
they were accusing me of denying my daughter the right to be visible
to and heard by her peers.
Pugh spent years volunteering and observing chldren at a poor
school's after school care, an elite public school, and a private
school. She talked to their teachers and staff. She did extensive
interviews with parents from fifty-four families in their natural
environments. (At one point when she talks to a child and her mother
she and the daughter are painting their nails).
Pugh's narrative tells us how economies of dignity play out for
children in different economic groups, how children approach parents
to obtain the items they believe will lead to more securely belonging,
and how parents handle these requests. This includes the feelings and
thoughts behind their responses. Not surprisingly kids across the
spectrum coveted pretty much the same items, electronics holding a
very special status. Also not surprisingly, rich parents' mental
gymnastics were qualitatively different than those of poor parents for
whom even providing the necessities was a struggle. Surprisingly kids
across the spectrum experienced the same insecurities and
vulnerabilities.
One of the concepts in the book made me feel very angry because
Eugene and I brought our kids up on the "wrong side of the tracks" of
a relatively wealthy town. It was the concept of noblesse oblige. It
was exemplified by the mother who would routinely have her children
give some of their clothes and toys to the poor in a town in Central
America but kept them away from the local poor.
"...Like Dorothy, most of the affluent parents in this study
seemed to prefer that inequality serve as an abstract lesson in
charity and the responsibilities of the wealthy, rather than as a
concrete experience in empathy and what we owe each other as fellow
humans...."
This is a practice that perpetuates divisions rather than
ameleorating them. It also perpetuates the process of othering we see
across so many other spectrums (ie gender, race, religion) that allows
people to feel virtuous by helping those across the world while acting
crappy closer to home. I am sure the residents of my town who didn't
let their kids go to events as innocuous as a kindergarten birthday
party in my neighborhood wrote generous checks to organizations like
UNICEF and missions. I am by nature a very nonviolent person. But I
am going to share two instances when I had a sincere desire to deck
someone.
When my son was in I think first grade he visited a boy in his
class and came home with a haircut and new outfit. He seemed to like
them so I thanked the other mother. She and I went to see our sons
play rec sports. I was horrified to overhear her talking about how
she helped a poor little neglected child. Several parents looked my
way, not disguising a desire for drama. I did not act in a way that
would have confirmed every one of their class prejudices.
(Ironically, a couple of years later when my status was boosted by
being elected to school committee, I was a paradigm of parenting and
her chum).
When my older daughter was in third grade there was a well
attended school event. The mother of one of her friends loudly asked
her daughter why she wasn't doing as well (grade wise) as "that little
trailor park trash." My daughter whispered for me to not respond. I
couldn't help noticing that the other parents and even the teachers
said nothing to indicate that the mother had crossed a line. Maybe in
their minds she hadn't?
Anyway the book is really interesting and reader friendly. I'd
recommend it to parents, people who work with or plan to work with
children, and public policy creators.
At the end of the book Pugh speculates that adults may have
economies of dignity--required belongings and experiences that allow
one to be seen, heard, and accepted. Hell, yes! I used to belong to
a book club. Members all had kids in the same school. We updated
each other on our kids' news and chatted about school events, upcoming
holidays, weather, and the book. Then we had an influx of new
people. Suddenly to be heard and seen and belong you had to have
renovated your fancy house, gone to ritzy vaca destinations, belonged
to ski and country clubs, and acquired luxuries.
Wanna guess why I dropped out?
I just noticed that this review is lengthy compared to my usual
ones. Let's say it gave me lots of food for thought. Maybe it will
do the same for you.
On a personal note, Thursday I went to Lavender Graduation. It's a
lovely intimate graduation for LGBTQ students and allies that comes
before the official graduation. (Incidentally, I learned about the
grad program I will be starting in September at Lavender Graduation
2016). I had a number of people graduating but most especially
Russell who is one of my favorite people in the world. (I'm so lucky
he is staying around and not heading off somewhere far away like
Alaska). If you have a friend you can share any thoughts without
being afraid of judgement or work with in silence with the silence not
feeling awkward you have that kind of friend. I could tell Russell
was pleased that I was there. One of the most special ways we can be
real is mattering to the people who matter to us.
Then yesterday I went to the funeral of my husband's aunt, Arlene
Woodman. Her oldest daughter read a poem Arlene's husband had written
for her for a Valentines Day decades after the day she had caught his
eye by giving him a flower. That poem told people a lot more than the
preacher's whole sermon which seemed to be an infomercial about
getting right with Jesus to join her in heaven. During her time on
Earth, for better or worse and in sickness and health, Arlene Woodman
was adored by her beloved.
The take home message from the two events, which is one of the major
principals by which I live my life, is never pass up an opportunity to
tell or show the people you love how much they mean to you. Then you
won't be blindsided by regrets if they die or move to Alaska. I'm
sure my counselling center chums will agree with this.
A great big shout out goes out to all our UMaine students who are
graduating today and the grads of other fine institutions. You did
it! Congrats. Also to all the mothers who will be celebrating
Mothers Day tomorrow.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Thursday, May 10, 2018
We ARE Americans
We ARE Americans
Adult nonfiction
"Where I live, most of the kids give up. They give up on their
education. I don't think that it is something that is possible for
me. I want to think positive. I really want to continue with what I
am doing in school."
Frequent moves including one to the United States and parental
temporary separation made Penelope's (quoted above) life challenging.
She was able to go from English-language development to AP and get
very good grades. She's received many awards for extracurricular
involvement and academic excellence, balancing her involvements with
housework and child care responsibilities at home. Going to college
would involve surmounting immense obstacles. Like 15 other young
people William Perez interviewed for We Are Americans she was an
illegal alien.
Perez profiled four high school students, four community college
students, four university students, and four college graduates--all
undocumented. They crossed the border as children with their
families. Few have memories of former countries. In almost every way
possible they are indistinguishable from their native born peers...
...but at every step they were tripped up in their quest for
higher education despite the fact that they were stellar students with
outstanding grades and serious extracurricular and volunteer
participation. Even with English being a second language and
prejudice being a serious barrier to getting out of basic classes,
they were overrepresented in AP and honors classes. Some also worked
or had home responsibilities. If they had been born in the USA
universities would have offered them sweetheart deals.
Because this was not the case some universities flat out turned
them down. Most financial aid was out of their reach. Lack of social
security numbers kept them from getting decent jobs, limiting them to
low pay gigs, often under the table. Inability to obtain drivers'
licenses doomed them to outrageously lengthy bus commutes. Even after
university graduation (and in some cases grad school) professions they
were qualified for remained out of reach. And deportation remained a
constant threat.
The four last profiles serve as a contrast. They are of peers
who were able to become citizens and live up to their potentials.
We ARE Americans was published in 2009. Sadly, as the fate of
dreamers has become a political hot potato, it remains only too
relevant today. We need to give immigrants and refugees the papers
they require to fulfill their potentials, not only because it's the
right thing to do, but because we need their abilities and
determination in order for our nation to fulfill its potential.
By happy coincidence, I read a piece in the Bangor Daily News
that was quite relevant. Some of the students profiled in the book
had had to fight to get into AP and honors classes because of low
expectations on the part of high school faculty and administration.
The story was about a Portland school getting more minority students
into AP classes by preventing enrollment solely by tracking, making
the classes more interesting and relevant, and adding support for
students. It also helps that they have a strongly engaged Somali
refugee vice principal.
He's a prime example of how much we need refugee/immigrant
drive and talent.
On a personal note, Tuesday I was able to stuff a lovely green eyed
moose and dress it in a UMaine shirt, enjoy an ice cream sundae, and
pat some adorable goats at UMaine. The goats rated a story in the
Bangor Daily News. I also attended a presentation on opiode
overdoses: dealing with and preventing.
Today I'm going to Lavender Graduation. (A couple of years ago at
Lavender Graduation I learned about the program I'm going into. In
two years I've become so much more confident, capable, and poised. If
all goes well in three to six years I'll be participating in my own
Lavender Graduation.)
Tuesday and Wednesday nights I learned that blueberry hard cider makes
an excellent base for an ice cream soda. Don't try that at home
unless you're 21 or older.
I'm very much enjoying my dafodills.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
"Where I live, most of the kids give up. They give up on their
education. I don't think that it is something that is possible for
me. I want to think positive. I really want to continue with what I
am doing in school."
Frequent moves including one to the United States and parental
temporary separation made Penelope's (quoted above) life challenging.
She was able to go from English-language development to AP and get
very good grades. She's received many awards for extracurricular
involvement and academic excellence, balancing her involvements with
housework and child care responsibilities at home. Going to college
would involve surmounting immense obstacles. Like 15 other young
people William Perez interviewed for We Are Americans she was an
illegal alien.
Perez profiled four high school students, four community college
students, four university students, and four college graduates--all
undocumented. They crossed the border as children with their
families. Few have memories of former countries. In almost every way
possible they are indistinguishable from their native born peers...
...but at every step they were tripped up in their quest for
higher education despite the fact that they were stellar students with
outstanding grades and serious extracurricular and volunteer
participation. Even with English being a second language and
prejudice being a serious barrier to getting out of basic classes,
they were overrepresented in AP and honors classes. Some also worked
or had home responsibilities. If they had been born in the USA
universities would have offered them sweetheart deals.
Because this was not the case some universities flat out turned
them down. Most financial aid was out of their reach. Lack of social
security numbers kept them from getting decent jobs, limiting them to
low pay gigs, often under the table. Inability to obtain drivers'
licenses doomed them to outrageously lengthy bus commutes. Even after
university graduation (and in some cases grad school) professions they
were qualified for remained out of reach. And deportation remained a
constant threat.
The four last profiles serve as a contrast. They are of peers
who were able to become citizens and live up to their potentials.
We ARE Americans was published in 2009. Sadly, as the fate of
dreamers has become a political hot potato, it remains only too
relevant today. We need to give immigrants and refugees the papers
they require to fulfill their potentials, not only because it's the
right thing to do, but because we need their abilities and
determination in order for our nation to fulfill its potential.
By happy coincidence, I read a piece in the Bangor Daily News
that was quite relevant. Some of the students profiled in the book
had had to fight to get into AP and honors classes because of low
expectations on the part of high school faculty and administration.
The story was about a Portland school getting more minority students
into AP classes by preventing enrollment solely by tracking, making
the classes more interesting and relevant, and adding support for
students. It also helps that they have a strongly engaged Somali
refugee vice principal.
He's a prime example of how much we need refugee/immigrant
drive and talent.
On a personal note, Tuesday I was able to stuff a lovely green eyed
moose and dress it in a UMaine shirt, enjoy an ice cream sundae, and
pat some adorable goats at UMaine. The goats rated a story in the
Bangor Daily News. I also attended a presentation on opiode
overdoses: dealing with and preventing.
Today I'm going to Lavender Graduation. (A couple of years ago at
Lavender Graduation I learned about the program I'm going into. In
two years I've become so much more confident, capable, and poised. If
all goes well in three to six years I'll be participating in my own
Lavender Graduation.)
Tuesday and Wednesday nights I learned that blueberry hard cider makes
an excellent base for an ice cream soda. Don't try that at home
unless you're 21 or older.
I'm very much enjoying my dafodills.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Tuesday, May 8, 2018
Ron's Big Mission
Ron's Big Mission
Picture book
Astronaut Ron McNair, who died in 1986 when the space shuttle
Challenger exploded, was a boy in 1959 when he decided to take a
stand. He selected some books at the library and took them to the
check out desk...
...should be simple, right. If you're like me you've done that
about a gazillion times. But in that library blacks weren't allowed
to. They could read them in the library or have a white friend borrow
for them.
This is no longer enough for Ron. He remains adament even when
the police are called in...
...and you'll never guess what happens.
Children and adults alike will find this book inspiring. We all
need to be taking stands and not putting up with injustice.
On a personal note, here in Penobscot County, Maine we're enjoying our
long awaited spring. My dafodills are regal yellow flags. UMaine
looks like Mother Nature dressed her up for graduation.
Yesterday Mind Spa and CASE put on a final exam stress buster. I
didn't think I'd see anything new til Joe showed me the scratch
boards. They're black on top with rainbow colors underneath. You
draw with a skinny wooden stick. I was over the moon, drawing for
hours, totally in the zone. I illustrated three of my favorite
sayings: "Be bold! Be beautiful! Be Brave! Be brilliant! Be Your
Best! You are enough!" "He liveth best who loveth best all creatures
great and small. For the same God who made us made and liveth
all" (from Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner) "Aim for the moon. If you
miss you'll land among the stars.". They'll look great in my studio.
For the first time in well over a decade I may go further than New
Hampshire. I pursuaded my friends Russell and Big Ben we and Big Ben's
fiancée should make a road trip to Boston this summer. What a road
trip that will be!
But I better get going. Gotta be on campus in time to stuff a bear or
moose! In other words a couple of hours before the event.
A great big shout out goes out to all the folks doing much needed
stress buster events during finals week.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Picture book
Astronaut Ron McNair, who died in 1986 when the space shuttle
Challenger exploded, was a boy in 1959 when he decided to take a
stand. He selected some books at the library and took them to the
check out desk...
...should be simple, right. If you're like me you've done that
about a gazillion times. But in that library blacks weren't allowed
to. They could read them in the library or have a white friend borrow
for them.
This is no longer enough for Ron. He remains adament even when
the police are called in...
...and you'll never guess what happens.
Children and adults alike will find this book inspiring. We all
need to be taking stands and not putting up with injustice.
On a personal note, here in Penobscot County, Maine we're enjoying our
long awaited spring. My dafodills are regal yellow flags. UMaine
looks like Mother Nature dressed her up for graduation.
Yesterday Mind Spa and CASE put on a final exam stress buster. I
didn't think I'd see anything new til Joe showed me the scratch
boards. They're black on top with rainbow colors underneath. You
draw with a skinny wooden stick. I was over the moon, drawing for
hours, totally in the zone. I illustrated three of my favorite
sayings: "Be bold! Be beautiful! Be Brave! Be brilliant! Be Your
Best! You are enough!" "He liveth best who loveth best all creatures
great and small. For the same God who made us made and liveth
all" (from Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner) "Aim for the moon. If you
miss you'll land among the stars.". They'll look great in my studio.
For the first time in well over a decade I may go further than New
Hampshire. I pursuaded my friends Russell and Big Ben we and Big Ben's
fiancée should make a road trip to Boston this summer. What a road
trip that will be!
But I better get going. Gotta be on campus in time to stuff a bear or
moose! In other words a couple of hours before the event.
A great big shout out goes out to all the folks doing much needed
stress buster events during finals week.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Sunday, May 6, 2018
They All Saw A Cat
They All Saw A Cat
Picture book
"The cat walked through the world,
With its whiskers, ears, and paws..."
Brendan Wenzel's They All Saw A Cat gives a perfect introduction
to perspectives. A cat is viewed by a number of beings.
*The dog sees something to chase.
*The fox sees fast food.
*The fish and mouse see a scary predator...
Perhaps after reading/hearing the book a child or parent child
combo can pick another being to speculate similarly on. More
sophisticated kids might be able to view social events through this
lens.
On a purrrrsonal note, my dafodills are lovely. UMaine is at its
lovliest with flowers, planted and otherwise, all over. Even
unbeheaded dandelions. (Dandelion means lion's tooth in French.).
Gotta love that!
Yesterday I went to a day long presentation on social work and
environmental justice. It was fascinating. Although it wasn't my
field I had a good deal to offer when presenters asked for audience
input. I also politely called three speakers out on using the E word
(elderly) by explaining how ageist it is. (Readers: please delete
that word from your vocabs. Older people doesn't have the beyond
one's expiration date implication.) I realized how competent, poised,
and professional I feel. I'm all ready for grad school.
Ice cream was a big part of the day. I had a pint of rum raisin for
lunch which I ate outside with a friend in a near so many flowers.
Heavenly. At night I tried my friend, Russell's, suggestion of a dark
beer float (beer with ice cream). It was delish.
As I write this Joey cat is behind me purring. His whiskers tickle my
neck.
A great big shout out goes out to all who participated in the event
yesterday and my sweet, precious Joey cat.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Picture book
"The cat walked through the world,
With its whiskers, ears, and paws..."
Brendan Wenzel's They All Saw A Cat gives a perfect introduction
to perspectives. A cat is viewed by a number of beings.
*The dog sees something to chase.
*The fox sees fast food.
*The fish and mouse see a scary predator...
Perhaps after reading/hearing the book a child or parent child
combo can pick another being to speculate similarly on. More
sophisticated kids might be able to view social events through this
lens.
On a purrrrsonal note, my dafodills are lovely. UMaine is at its
lovliest with flowers, planted and otherwise, all over. Even
unbeheaded dandelions. (Dandelion means lion's tooth in French.).
Gotta love that!
Yesterday I went to a day long presentation on social work and
environmental justice. It was fascinating. Although it wasn't my
field I had a good deal to offer when presenters asked for audience
input. I also politely called three speakers out on using the E word
(elderly) by explaining how ageist it is. (Readers: please delete
that word from your vocabs. Older people doesn't have the beyond
one's expiration date implication.) I realized how competent, poised,
and professional I feel. I'm all ready for grad school.
Ice cream was a big part of the day. I had a pint of rum raisin for
lunch which I ate outside with a friend in a near so many flowers.
Heavenly. At night I tried my friend, Russell's, suggestion of a dark
beer float (beer with ice cream). It was delish.
As I write this Joey cat is behind me purring. His whiskers tickle my
neck.
A great big shout out goes out to all who participated in the event
yesterday and my sweet, precious Joey cat.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Friday, May 4, 2018
Sex Object
Sex Object
Adult nonfiction
"Because while my daughter lives in a world that knows that what
happens to women is wrong, it has also accepted this wrongness as
inevitable. When a rich man in Delaware was given probation for
raping his three-year-old daughter, there was outrage. But it was the
lack of punishment that seemed to offend, not the seemingly immovable
fact that some men rape three-year-olds. Prison time we can measure
and control; that some men do horrible things to little girls,
however, is presented as a given."
The first male that I remember making unwanted sexual advances
on me beyond the bra snapping, random groping, and name calling of my
booger brained boy peers was a physical education teacher. I was a
freshman in high school. My junior year a senior who had stayed back
a couple of years tried to go all the way with me on a Greyhound bus
and behind the girls' dorm. I lost my virginity by rape. I wish I
could say that was the last time someone tried...it was the last time
someone succeeded. There were times I wondered fleetingly if I was a
pervert magnet.
After reading Jessica Valenti's Sex Object I know the answer is
a resounding no. I was a girl; I am a woman. I live in a rape
culture where a college athlete can get only three months in prison
for raping an unconscious woman because a judge thinks serious time
might endanger his bright future and his father can brush it off as
twenty minutes of action.
"Being a sex object is not special. This particular experience
of sexism--the way women are treated like objects, the way we
sometimes make ourselves into objects, and how the daily sloughing
away of our humanity impacts not just our lives and experiences but
our very sense of self--is not an unusual one. The object status is
what ties me to so many others..."
Valenti's mother and grandmother were molested by men who were
not strangers. Her grandmother was raped by her uncle. Riding the
subway she encountered legions of exhibitionists, gropers, and dry
humpers. Her high school teacher tried to "date" her...
From unwanted touching to cyberbullying Valenti describes the
experiences all too many girls and women have had to endure. Sex
Object is disturbingly enlightening. I think it's a must read for
adults...
...especially mothers of daughters.
On a personal note, Maine Day was awesome. I was with the crew raking
and planting at my beloved Wilson Center. All over campus and into
town students eradicated the last traces of winter and did other much
needed maintenance. We all met up in the steam plant parking lot for
barbeque and music. Mmm mmm good! Maine Day is a wonderful
tradition. It gets work done. It's a break from the books. And it
builds UMaine loyalty and sense of belonging.
I've been giving out the white carnations leftover from the Out Of The
Darkness walk around campus to people experiencing stress and sadness
and people in behind the scenes jobs. It makes them happy. And Mind
Spa peeps encourage me to keep it up. I'm enjoying my own bunch of
carnations at home. They are delicately tinged with pink thanks to
red food coloring in water.
My beautiful dafodills (which I just learned repel ticks) are in
flower. Now it's time to bring out my wind chimes and turn Katie's
tree into the Veazie Symphony Orchastra.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
"Because while my daughter lives in a world that knows that what
happens to women is wrong, it has also accepted this wrongness as
inevitable. When a rich man in Delaware was given probation for
raping his three-year-old daughter, there was outrage. But it was the
lack of punishment that seemed to offend, not the seemingly immovable
fact that some men rape three-year-olds. Prison time we can measure
and control; that some men do horrible things to little girls,
however, is presented as a given."
The first male that I remember making unwanted sexual advances
on me beyond the bra snapping, random groping, and name calling of my
booger brained boy peers was a physical education teacher. I was a
freshman in high school. My junior year a senior who had stayed back
a couple of years tried to go all the way with me on a Greyhound bus
and behind the girls' dorm. I lost my virginity by rape. I wish I
could say that was the last time someone tried...it was the last time
someone succeeded. There were times I wondered fleetingly if I was a
pervert magnet.
After reading Jessica Valenti's Sex Object I know the answer is
a resounding no. I was a girl; I am a woman. I live in a rape
culture where a college athlete can get only three months in prison
for raping an unconscious woman because a judge thinks serious time
might endanger his bright future and his father can brush it off as
twenty minutes of action.
"Being a sex object is not special. This particular experience
of sexism--the way women are treated like objects, the way we
sometimes make ourselves into objects, and how the daily sloughing
away of our humanity impacts not just our lives and experiences but
our very sense of self--is not an unusual one. The object status is
what ties me to so many others..."
Valenti's mother and grandmother were molested by men who were
not strangers. Her grandmother was raped by her uncle. Riding the
subway she encountered legions of exhibitionists, gropers, and dry
humpers. Her high school teacher tried to "date" her...
From unwanted touching to cyberbullying Valenti describes the
experiences all too many girls and women have had to endure. Sex
Object is disturbingly enlightening. I think it's a must read for
adults...
...especially mothers of daughters.
On a personal note, Maine Day was awesome. I was with the crew raking
and planting at my beloved Wilson Center. All over campus and into
town students eradicated the last traces of winter and did other much
needed maintenance. We all met up in the steam plant parking lot for
barbeque and music. Mmm mmm good! Maine Day is a wonderful
tradition. It gets work done. It's a break from the books. And it
builds UMaine loyalty and sense of belonging.
I've been giving out the white carnations leftover from the Out Of The
Darkness walk around campus to people experiencing stress and sadness
and people in behind the scenes jobs. It makes them happy. And Mind
Spa peeps encourage me to keep it up. I'm enjoying my own bunch of
carnations at home. They are delicately tinged with pink thanks to
red food coloring in water.
My beautiful dafodills (which I just learned repel ticks) are in
flower. Now it's time to bring out my wind chimes and turn Katie's
tree into the Veazie Symphony Orchastra.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Wednesday, May 2, 2018
Hand To Mouth
Hand To Mouth
Adult nonfiction
"That's $628 per month, or $314 per paycheck for everything
else--food, clothes, car payments, gas. If you're lucky, you get all
that money to live on. But who's lucky all of the time, or even most
of the time? Maybe you get sick and lose your job. Even if you land
a new job, that measly $314 is all you've got to last you until your
paychecks at the new place start up. Or what if, God forbid, the car
breaks down or you break a bone?"
Much of America believes too much in the Horatio Alger story.
Any little boy (these days--or girl) can become president or CEO or
athlete or at least hold down a white color job if he/she/they
perseveres. Those poor people have only themselves to blame. If they
worked/saved/didn't smoke... Sadly some of the true believers are in
gubmint. There's an orgy of "tough love" going on--cutting benefit
elegibility so slackers will get off their tushes and get a job. (I
would seriously love to see Governor LePage try to pay for food,
clothes, electricity, gas...everything but housing on $628 a month.)
In Hand to Mouth: Living in Bootstrap America, Linda Tirado
shows how those beliefs are just so much sanctimonious crap. She's
lived the nightmare. She shares it with us in a no-holds-barred
narrative that should be required reading for all politicians and
health and human services workers.
Minimum wage full time jobs don't pay enough. Only, in order to
avoid giving benefits, employers are increasingly turning to part
timers. To further cut expenditures they base hours on how busy the
place is, post schedules mere days in advance, call in or send home at
the last minute, and require workers who may get 30 or 10 hours a week
to not get a second job.
When my daughter worked retail in college one Labor Day she
called the night before to say she couldn't make a family gathering.
She'd been called in to work. Then she showed up saying when she'd
been there an hour management decided the place wasn't as busy as they
anticipated and sent her home. What if she'd had young children
requiring a babysitter?
White collar jobs are not in the picture for many of the poor.
They often lack higher education and connections. With dentistry
being so darn expensive, tooth loss can stand in the way of any job
dealing with the public. Even the kind of clothes they would need are
out of the price range of people always in danger of eviction or
vehicle breakdown.
The kinds of miseries the poor endure on a regular basis are
spelled out in vivid detail.
"Roaches are nearly impossible to kill without repeated
professional extermination treatments, and those aren't free. They
live in walls and under woodwork; if there is a single crack in your
apartment they can come in at will..."
Sadly even working diligently, parents are increasingly unable
to help their beloved children achieve a better life as past
generations did. To me the saddest passage in the book is when Tirado
says,
"...I'm not preparing our kids for a gentle world, full of
interesting and stimulating experiences. I'm getting them ready to
keep their damn mouths shut while some idiot tells them what to do.
I'm preparing them to keep a sense of self when they can't define
themselves by their work because the likliest scenario is that (unlike
doctors and lawyers and bankers) they will not want to. I'm getting
them ready to scrap and hustle and pursue happiness despite the
struggle."
Is this what you want for yourself, you family, or your
country? Read the book and find out.
On a personal note, I woke up to a glorious day with temps expected to
hit 80. Just what we need for Maine Day, the Day UMaine students do
services projects on campus and in the community. I'm going to be
gardening up to Wilson Center. The reward is a humungous cook out in
the steam plant parking lot with music and other amusements.
We also had great weather Monday for the carnival put on by Active
Minds. We had games, popcorn, snow cones, the ice cream truck, free
Polaroid pictures, and five tables. I did the healthy memes table
which was quite popular. A lot of students really enjoyed our little
low budget, high excitement carnival. The only glitch was gusts of
wind that sometimes turned memes into kites. Fortunately people
enjoyed chasing them. It was the kind of event that made people feel
happy to be alive.
Monday night I tried an experiment with my carnations from Out of the
Darkness. I put a few drops of food coloring in the water. Tuesday
when I got up they were edged with delicate pink.
A great big shout out goes out to all who participated in the carnival
and will turn out for Maine Day.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
Adult nonfiction
"That's $628 per month, or $314 per paycheck for everything
else--food, clothes, car payments, gas. If you're lucky, you get all
that money to live on. But who's lucky all of the time, or even most
of the time? Maybe you get sick and lose your job. Even if you land
a new job, that measly $314 is all you've got to last you until your
paychecks at the new place start up. Or what if, God forbid, the car
breaks down or you break a bone?"
Much of America believes too much in the Horatio Alger story.
Any little boy (these days--or girl) can become president or CEO or
athlete or at least hold down a white color job if he/she/they
perseveres. Those poor people have only themselves to blame. If they
worked/saved/didn't smoke... Sadly some of the true believers are in
gubmint. There's an orgy of "tough love" going on--cutting benefit
elegibility so slackers will get off their tushes and get a job. (I
would seriously love to see Governor LePage try to pay for food,
clothes, electricity, gas...everything but housing on $628 a month.)
In Hand to Mouth: Living in Bootstrap America, Linda Tirado
shows how those beliefs are just so much sanctimonious crap. She's
lived the nightmare. She shares it with us in a no-holds-barred
narrative that should be required reading for all politicians and
health and human services workers.
Minimum wage full time jobs don't pay enough. Only, in order to
avoid giving benefits, employers are increasingly turning to part
timers. To further cut expenditures they base hours on how busy the
place is, post schedules mere days in advance, call in or send home at
the last minute, and require workers who may get 30 or 10 hours a week
to not get a second job.
When my daughter worked retail in college one Labor Day she
called the night before to say she couldn't make a family gathering.
She'd been called in to work. Then she showed up saying when she'd
been there an hour management decided the place wasn't as busy as they
anticipated and sent her home. What if she'd had young children
requiring a babysitter?
White collar jobs are not in the picture for many of the poor.
They often lack higher education and connections. With dentistry
being so darn expensive, tooth loss can stand in the way of any job
dealing with the public. Even the kind of clothes they would need are
out of the price range of people always in danger of eviction or
vehicle breakdown.
The kinds of miseries the poor endure on a regular basis are
spelled out in vivid detail.
"Roaches are nearly impossible to kill without repeated
professional extermination treatments, and those aren't free. They
live in walls and under woodwork; if there is a single crack in your
apartment they can come in at will..."
Sadly even working diligently, parents are increasingly unable
to help their beloved children achieve a better life as past
generations did. To me the saddest passage in the book is when Tirado
says,
"...I'm not preparing our kids for a gentle world, full of
interesting and stimulating experiences. I'm getting them ready to
keep their damn mouths shut while some idiot tells them what to do.
I'm preparing them to keep a sense of self when they can't define
themselves by their work because the likliest scenario is that (unlike
doctors and lawyers and bankers) they will not want to. I'm getting
them ready to scrap and hustle and pursue happiness despite the
struggle."
Is this what you want for yourself, you family, or your
country? Read the book and find out.
On a personal note, I woke up to a glorious day with temps expected to
hit 80. Just what we need for Maine Day, the Day UMaine students do
services projects on campus and in the community. I'm going to be
gardening up to Wilson Center. The reward is a humungous cook out in
the steam plant parking lot with music and other amusements.
We also had great weather Monday for the carnival put on by Active
Minds. We had games, popcorn, snow cones, the ice cream truck, free
Polaroid pictures, and five tables. I did the healthy memes table
which was quite popular. A lot of students really enjoyed our little
low budget, high excitement carnival. The only glitch was gusts of
wind that sometimes turned memes into kites. Fortunately people
enjoyed chasing them. It was the kind of event that made people feel
happy to be alive.
Monday night I tried an experiment with my carnations from Out of the
Darkness. I put a few drops of food coloring in the water. Tuesday
when I got up they were edged with delicate pink.
A great big shout out goes out to all who participated in the carnival
and will turn out for Maine Day.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
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