Dear 4th Graders

Dear 4^th Graders,

You just missed out on something. I wanted to let you know. While you were out running around on the playground, you missed out on something pretty great.

Curious what it might have been? To answer you, let me tell you what I observed, and maybe you’ll see for yourself.

Earlier, I watched as one of your own classmates approached first one small group of you, then another, then another, a smile on his face, laughter in his eyes. He jumped in with a few of you when it was time to take silly pictures for the little end-of-year event your teachers put together for you. You didn’t push him away, but you also didn’t look at him or laugh with him. He ran up to your game of tag and asked if he could play. You didn’t tell him he couldn’t, but you also didn’t run after him or try to tag him. You just allowed your group to drift away from him time and again until he gave up trying to participate. He joked with you about some of the class games your teachers set up. You didn’t say anything mean to him in return, but you also didn’t look him in the face or smile or do much of anything.

You didn’t actively push him away or aggressively exclude him. And at the same time, you didn’t include him. In fact, you didn’t react to him at all. It was as if he wasn’t there. You effectively turned him into a ghost. A non entity. A nothing.

I’m sure some of you are decent kids. Some of you may even be nice, under the right circumstances. But I have to wonder how so many “nice” kids can be so very hurtful.

If you think about it for a moment, you’ll know the boy I’m referring to. There’s no question. He’s the only classmate you so fully and assertively shunned. Are you fooled by the smile on his face as he gives up and walks away from you? Do you really allow yourself to believe that you don’t hurt him deeply every time you treat him like he’s nothing? You’re smarter than that. You’re better than that. At least, I like to believe that you are. Think about it:  how would you feel if you were in his place, if you were treated the way you treat him over and over? How would it feel to you if your classmates never acknowledged you, never listened to you, never included you? How would you feel if no one seemed to care about your very presence?

You’re probably wondering why I said you’re missing out. Allow me to enlighten you.

That boy you exclude so readily? He’s about the least competitive kid around, and because of that, he’s also pretty much the best cheerleader you could ever hope to have. He’s supportive and generous, and if you needed someone to call on for help of any kind, he would jump to help you in a heartbeat without a worry about himself. He even cheers on the competition when he plays games and sports, because he wants the best for everyone. How many friends do you have like that? How many friends do you have who are completely okay – even happy for you – if you win and they don’t? How many of your friends, if they win, want to teach you what they know so that you can possibly beat them next time? Or would they rather keep their skills to themselves because winning, even with you, is what matters most to them?

That boy you don’t acknowledge is crazy smart. He could help you with any school work you find challenging. He’d be a phenomenal partner on a class project because he picks up knowledge almost as easily as breathing or drinking water, but more than that, he understands how to use that knowledge, how to manipulate numbers and words, and he can help you learn how to do it, too. He loves sharing knowledge. He can make school easier for you. He’d like to.

That boy you ignore even when he’s right next to you saying hello and trying to joke with you? He has a heart larger than your entire school. We all go through fun times we want to share and tough times where we need someone to listen. He’d go to the ends of the earth for any friend, to make them smile and to make sure they’re okay.

That boy you look down on because maybe he’s awkward or small or a little different from you? He’s also far braver than you. Any of you. Think about how often he has approached you – in class or on the playground – and been shunned by you, ignored by you, not accepted by you. If you were in his shoes, how many times would it take before you just gave up? Think about that for a moment. Think about how much that would hurt and how quickly you would stop trying. But he doesn’t stop. He continues to try, over and over, a huge, friendly smile on his face, hope shining through that maybe this time will be different, maybe this time you’ll include him… maybe this time he will be visible to you. Imagine how much courage that takes. I’m not sure I’m that brave, and I’m fairly certain you are not.

Today, I saw you miss out, my dear 4^th graders. I saw you walk right by the chance to make not only a great friend with a true champion but also to get to know someone who’s more of a hero than you can imagine. Someone kind and brave. Someone with more of a heart than any of you have shown.

Better luck next time. 

Battle of the Deadly Nuts

Those of us who grew up in any generation prior to the current 20-and-under crowd find ourselves astonished at how many children in our kids’ classrooms and playgroups have moderate-to-severe allergies to nuts. Having someone else’s child come over to your house to play or sleep over, or even making fun snacks and treats for your child’s birthday, can be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster: What can I make that’s safe for everyone? Will this adjusted recipe still taste good? Did I touch any of the cooking utensils or dishes with anything that has been in contact with nuts? Am I absolutely certain that my ingredients are nut-free in every way imaginable?

Faces of Death.      
image credit to bioag.novozymes.com

Let’s face it. Nut allergies are scary. They’re scarier to deal with (for us average parents of non-allergic children) than milk allergies or gluten intolerance or other food-related sensitivities. For some reason – whether backed by science or simply what makes the news that we read – nut allergies seem deadlier and more insidious. There are individuals who can even become horribly ill – or worse – from being in proximity of nut particles in the air. I mean, come on! If the idea that you might accidentally distribute the almost invisible dust of death out into the breathing space of a highly allergic child isn’t terrifying, I don’t know terrifying.

Hence, the inception of periodic peanut-free flights and the dramatic rise in popularity of pretzels as airplane treats. (Not sure why plain M&Ms haven’t become the obvious replacements for peanuts, but that’s for another discussion.)

Let’s get serious, though. As with anything that requires tremendous care, consideration and some level of restriction, the need to accommodate individuals, even children, with nut allergies tends to upset some people.  Moms and dads alike rail against the concept of requiring all school snacks or brought-in birthday treats to be peanut free. They act persnickety about the parents of these children taking a moment to send out pre-birthday-party emails about the precautions needed to keep their kids safe. The list of grievances is long and the frustration real.

So let’s go there. Let’s get real.

The reality is that if these parents didn’t take these precautions, their children would be put in danger, sometimes mortal danger, every day in this country of ours where so much of what we ingest and are exposed to includes nuts or nut particles. If that’s not clear enough, let me be more concise: These parents who insist on these precautions are protecting their children. Their kids. The young people they not only are required to raise and care for but that their instincts drive them to protect… especially from anything deadly.

Some parents (of non-allergic children) who feel inconvenienced suggest that children with such severe allergies should not be allowed in public schools and shouldn’t be included in common outings and parties, stating that if exposure is so dangerous, these sensitive children likely should be kept tucked away from kids and crowds and mishaps. Let’s face facts. This reaction isn’t about the safety of the kids with the nut allergies. They’re about the fact that the safeguards that are put in place may occasionally inconvenience their kids. Essentially, it’s a douche-y response.

For the parents of non-allergic children who get bent out of whack by precautions that are established to protect children with nut allergies, I put together a little comparison for you, an if-this / if-that list if you will, to help define which option might be the best option – keeping severely allergic children separate from other kids or finding ways to include them safely.

NUT-FREE SNACKS AND TREATS AT SCHOOLS

If we restrict snacks and treats to those that are nut-free, your child might have to wait until she is at home to eat and enjoy her beloved peanut butter sandwich or the granola bar with nuts or her favorite brownie. You might also have to avoid making cupcakes to bring in for her birthday, since the ingredients may not come from a nut-free facility. I know this is rough and a huge let-down.

If we don’t restrict snacks and treats to those that are nut-free, the child with the nut allergy could die from accidental exposure to or ingestion of nuts or nut particles.

PARENT REQUESTING SPECIAL ACCOMMODATION IF THEIR CHILD ATTENDS YOUR CHILD’S BIRTHDAY PARTY

You have options here. You could grumble but accommodate, possibly frustrating your child that he’s going to have to wait until after his party to eat his favorite cake. You could not grumble but accommodate, with the same results but likely with a better response from your child who believe it or not does look to you as an example of how to respond to the world. I know either of these options is emotionally wrenching, and the whining might be difficult to bear. Of course, you could refuse to accommodate, be a completely and total douche canoe, and exclude the allergic child from the party. (Hopefully in that last instance your child will be a better human being than you and will apologize to his classmate for your douche-ocity.)

If you don’t accommodate but simultaneously don’t say anything back to the parents, or if you claim you’ll accommodate but actually do not, the child with the nut allergy could die from accidental exposure to or ingestion of nuts or nut particles.

THE QUESTION OF WHETHER A CHILD WITH A SEVERE ALLERGY SHOULD BE ALLOWED TO ATTEND PUBLIC SCHOOL

If we allow a child with severe nut allergies to attend public school, precautions have to be put in place to keep that child safe and alive, just as precautions are in place to keep any non-allergic child safe and alive. That includes becoming a nut-free zone (see above for all of the strife that will put you through).

If we keep a child with severe nut allergies out of public school, your child will be able to eat her favorite snack when she wants to. She’ll be able to bring in whatever tasty treat – for lunch or for snack or for celebration – that suits her whimsy, or yours. Your child will get straight As and will be guaranteed years of happiness and future professional success simply from lack of stress over the restrictions of a nut-free school zone. Angels will weep with joy.

If we keep a child with severe nut allergies out of public school, we put that child’s education, emotional health and future at risk. Some parents are exceptional at homeschooling and put public school education to shame; however, others struggle, either from lack of knowledge, difficulty understanding how to convey concepts to a young learner, or simply from the economic strain of having to choose between full-time employment and the education needs of their child. We have schools for a reason – not everyone is a good teacher by nature; the choice to homeschool should be just that – a choice. Also, there are the inherent emotional risks of potentially reducing opportunities for the excluded child to have peer-to-peer social interaction – again, this is entirely dependent on the parent’s strengths to accommodate this. In short, you risk a child’s childhood for the sake of others’ convenience.

I suppose that’s the most difficult part for me to get my head around, this idea that anyone can feel that their child’s convenience is more important than another child’s safety. It’s one thing to care more about your child than any other child, but it borders on a pathological lack of sympathy and empathy to put your child’s desires above another child’s health or well-being.

I can understand feeling frustrated about being restricted from doing or having something you love or crave, and I can understand feeling frustrated when your child faces this type of restriction. But when this is put into the context of accommodating-my-frustration-versus-putting-someone-else-in-mortal-danger, especially when that someone else is a child, suddenly I don’t really feel such a strong need for that thing I miss. I don’t feel such an urge to fight for my kids’ taste buds to be satisfied at any given point in the day. And when I think about one child being entirely excluded from a rite of passage (yes, school is a rite of passage) just to allow another child the freedom to eat whatever he or she wants during the learning part of the day, the whole argument seems not just a little bit pathetic and selfish and awful.

So if you feel strongly that your child faces powerful injustice at the hands of the nut-free power lobby that his God-given and constitutionally defended rights to eat his Nutty Buddy or his Snickers bar or his grandmother’s banana nut bread are being infringed upon, please feel free to whine and gripe and carry on. Have at it. Clearly, you have your priorities in good order. And when you “swear to God” that you’re the kind of person who is selfless and looks out for the good of others, don’t be surprised if I gingerly but quickly put a little bit of physical distance between us. I’m not fond of standing that close to a lightning rod.

Camping With Obama

There’s this beat-up, old, dark blue truck in my neighborhood that is eternally parked in the same spot up against the curb, not far from one of the neighborhood entrances.  The truck has hard cover over the bed, and across the back is scrawled, in large capital letters, “STOP OBAMA.” 

Clearly, the owner is a fan of the POTUS.  (I love the acronym POTUS. Sounds kinky.)

On the way home today, Bear read the sign on the back of the truck out loud to Ballerina. “Stop Obama,” he said, followed by, “Why would someone want to stop Obama?”  I explained that like with anything else, people’s opinions differ on the President; some like him, some don’t.

Ballerina, who is four, thought about this a moment, and this is the conversation that ensued.

Ballerina:  So that man doesn’t like Obama?

Me:  Apparently that is the case.

Ballerina:  Does that mean he won’t go camping with Obama?

Me:  Most likely no.

Ballerina:  And he won’t go to his house for a party or a sleepover?

Me:  Probably not.

Ballerina:  What about fishing with him?

Me:  I doubt it.

Ballerina:  Why do grown-ups not do sleepovers if they don’t like each other?  And why doesn’t he like Obama anyway?

Even casual, not sure this screams "I love camping."
image c/o nydailynews.com

At this point we arrived home, so both children focused their attention on arguing about who should be allowed to unlock the door.  But this discussion left me wondering… could domestic and international issues be easily resolved if our leaders would just hold a darn sleepover?  Maybe tell ghost stories?  Do “light as a feather, stiff as a board” games and spin the bottle?  Play truth or dare?  Ballerina might be on to something.

Caylee Anthony – Why It Matters

If you are an adult alive and awake in the United States today, it’s almost impossible that you remain unaware at this point in the day of the verdict of the Casey Anthony trial. Even if you didn’t watch the verdict being read on live television, if you were anywhere within spitting distance of social media, you couldn’t possibly have missed the flurry of outrage that spread across the Interwebs when Ms. Anthony was found Not Guilty of any charges related to harming her daughter, Caylee.

Among the flurry and frenzy on social media sites were several comments expressing “enough already” or even “it’s not important, move along.” To be fair, some of the “enough already” comments had more to do with information overload experienced by those who live near the city where the trial happened and who were tired of every other news item being drowned out by this case. Fair enough and amen to that. But for those who claim that this case and this verdict weren’t important… to put it bluntly, I couldn’t disagree with you more.

Before I get into the main part of my post, I want to point out that the first two words of the title of the post aren’t “Casey Anthony” but “Caylee Anthony.” Casey Anthony, in my opinion, really doesn’t matter. Whether you think she killed her daughter or not, her actions have proven time and again that at the very least she is exceedingly narcissistic and more likely is a sociopath. She did nothing to announce to anyone that her daughter was missing in the first place and has done nothing at any point to help anyone locate her child or determine the cause of her daughter’s death. But Caylee Anthony… she matters. Not mattered, as in past tense, but matters. Still.

It’s often said that one of the oddities of human nature is that we feel more profoundly affected by tragedies when we relate to single individuals rather than to vast numbers. We have trouble wrapping our heads around large scale human catastrophes. Remember the tsunami of 2004? All told, that terrifying wave killed more than 230,000 people. That’s no typo – two hundred and thirty thousand. Think about that casualty figure for a moment. Try to get your brain to fathom what that means in terms of humanity and tragedy. It’s difficult, isn’t it? It’s just so… huge and overwhelming and unthinkable. Finding the right emotion for a disaster of that magnitude is tough. But then imagine one single mother on that day who clung to her small child as tightly as she could, desperate to save him, desperate to survive the torrent, until the waters finally tore him from her grasp. Imagine the agony of that one woman trying so frantically to save her young son, her beloved child, only to have the undeniable force of nature overpower her. Think about her loss and her unbearable grief, and then think about your reaction to her story. Bear in mind, I’m not speaking of a single situation but of thousands that happened that day, sadly. And yet, it’s easier to empathize with and sympathize for that single woman and to grasp the despair of that one mother’s plight than it is the full scope of the tsunami event.

As with the one lost child among the thousands who perished in the tsunami, Caylee’s death is both a singular tragedy and a representation of so many others. People around the country and around the world cared about her disappearance and her situation and her recovery and the trial. We cared and we hoped and we grieved, and tonight we mourn for what many of us feel was the loss of an opportunity for justice. We don’t care because we knew her personally. Of course not. And no, we don’t consciously think of her as a symbol. She was Caylee. She was a child. We grieve specifically for her loss.

But part of why we focus all this attention and emotion and grief and hope and anger on Caylee is that she is just one of so many abused and hurt (and worse) children in the world. She’s not a symbol, but she is “one of” nonetheless. She is one of so many children who, either at times or throughout their youth, are unwanted, discarded, disdained, mistreated, abused, simply tolerated or completely untolerated. There are thousands of children in our country and in the world who simply are children, who are physically unable to be self-sufficient, who didn’t ask to exist but who do nonetheless, who are completely reliant on others for care and feeding and housing, who yearn for and have an instinct to crave and work for love and affection. But let’s face it – in the most basic sense, children exist at the whim of the adults who are responsible for them. And there are adults out there who do not perform that responsibility appropriately (to put it mildly).

As with thinking about all of the tsunami victims, it is literally impossible – to the point of madness – to think about and feel “enough” sympathy for all of the abused children in the world or enough loathing for all of the neglectful or abusive or murderous parents. There are so many of us who want justice for every single mistreated child. We want to rail against abusers and wrap our arms around the tortured children and make the world a safer place for all those who can’t protect themselves. But as individuals, we feel that’s impossible. We feel impotent to make a dent in this grand breadth of awfulness. So instead, we collectively focus on one child, with every part of our heart and every ounce of our hope. We pray that she’s found safe, and when she isn’t found safe we pray that the awful excuse of a human being that did this horrible thing serves some sort of justice. Because if we can’t bring all of the abusers and murderers of children to justice, then maybe we can at least have justice this one time. And then, when we feel justice has not been served, we cry out collectively, because if justice can’t happen for this one child, how can we hope to save the thousands of children still out there being abused and mistreated? If we can’t save one, even posthumously, how can we hope to save the rest?

So this, my doubting and aggravated friends, is why this case and this trial and this verdict were so important to so many of us. We wanted to see a difference made. We wanted justice for the one so we could imagine justice for the many. We wanted to feel that some good could come from this tragedy, even if we couldn’t save the girl… even if the good that came from all of this was simply our own internal justification and fire and drive to get out there and do more to protect the meek and bring the bad guys in and make the world a better place and make a difference.

And rightly or wrongly, because of today’s verdict, right now it feels like a losing battle.