I saw a news story that simultaneously saddened and angered me. There is a man, Dan Savage, who is (among other things) the founder of the 'It Gets Better' movement for young gay people who feel that they are bullied, ostracized, etc. I agree with one of the goals of this movement which is to help young people to feel that no matter what their situation at the moment, things will get better. I do not, however, agree with most of the vulgar and sexually explicit ways that Mr. Savage expresses himself or portrays sexuality for young people.
But that is neither here nor there.
What I object to is what Mr. Savage did at a high school journalism convention in front of over 1,000 young journalism students.
The premise of his forum (he was the keynote speaker) was to highlight bullying and most students attending were most likely in attendance to learn how they could help shed light on the sad epidemic of bullying in their own schools through their respective publications. Ironically, this anti-bullying forum turned into a bigoted, anti-Christianity rant which ultimately resulted in some students being verbally bullied by this man.
On a personal note, I was publicly bullied by a teacher when I was a sophomore in high school when I challenged a premise that he was presenting as fact that flew in the face of my beliefs and scientific evidence. I know the feeling of having an adult ridicule a young person in public while the majority of the classmates sit silently by. It is not a good feeling. But at the same time, it was an unforgettable experience for me and a turning point in my personal convictions.
Some of the young people in that room had a similar experience when they stood up and quietly left the room in silent protest to the profanity-laced insults to their beliefs. I applaud them for peacefully defending their beliefs.
Sadder still, Mr. Savage could not just let them quietly leave, but he began to insult them using very immature, profane language.
We do not all share the same belief system. That's why America is so great. We are free to choose what we believe, what we say and do not say, what we will do with our lives, as long as we do not use that freedom to infringe upon the rights or liberty of others. I do not agree with the vast majority of what Mr. Savage says or does, but I do respect his right to say and do those things.
And in return, I expect that same level of respect.
My principles and values are every bit as valid as Mr. Savage's, yet I would never dream of unleashing a profane tirade against him, much less against a young person with the same views. But I do believe I have an obligation to stand for those values with firmness, even if it means being mocked or ridiculed.
As mothers, we must teach our children to always stand for their beliefs, no matter how hard it is. Mr. Savage claimed that he was beaten for being gay in the name of Christianity and the Bible, therefore felt justified in his bigotry. Well, I have a daughter who is relentlessly bullied by one race of girls at her school, so would that justify her unleashing a racist tirade?
Of course not.
There are good people of all races, religions, ethnic backgrounds, sexual orientations, etc. And that is what I try to teach my children each day, fighting the incessant tides of negativity to which they are exposed. A truly well educated, well adjusted person is one that can look differences in the eye, not be swayed by trends in popularity or pop culture, and hold fast in their beliefs while respecting the beliefs of others.
I applaud those young people who refused to be victims of verbal bullying and walked out of that room, despite being publicly mocked and degraded. I applaud their parents for teaching them to stand for something. I hope that my children will have the courage to do the same. Because in a world that increasingly targets values and beliefs, that time will inevitably come.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Lobbing Stones or Opening Eyes?
When my oldest daughter was little, I thought the most effective way of putting her in a time-out was in a place with no potential distractions, rewards, etc. (ie. a dark bathroom).
Call CPS on me, I know. It was barbaric.
But at the time made total and complete sense to me. She was in a place void of visual or other stimuli and would learn quickly that it was not someplace she should desire to end up.
We were at my parents' house and she misbehaved, so consistent parent as I was, she was promptly placed in the bathroom (that had a window) with the lights off. Minutes after the time out expired, my dad asked to talk to me. He took me into his room and quite apologetically began relating to me how as a child, his grandfather had put him in a dark cellar as punishment. He had suffered great terror and anxiety because of the dark, foreboding place and expressed his concern that this might happen with his tender little granddaughter.
Then he looked at me like I was about to go all Hiroshima on him.
Much to his surprise, I told him I appreciated the honest, loving expression of concern for my little one, and that I'd re-tool my time-out strategy to be less worthy of extensive therapy sessions. Our conversation turned to why it was he had expected a mini-Normandy Beach reaction. He had had the unfortunate experience of offering similar, lovingly intentioned advice to others of his children only to have the minefield of defensive parenting explode in his face.
My father has been gone 6 years ago this past Christmastime, and very few days go by that I am not overwhelmingly grateful for his courage and wisdom in trying to impart some of his parenting wisdom on me; especially now that I don't have ready access to it.
As mothers, we are surrounded by negative, many times judgmental forces that rail that we are not good enough, not pretty enough, not involved enough, not hip enough, blah, blah, blah... Those forces combined with the sometimes overwhelming inner sense of inadequacy and imperfection can make us ticking time-bombs, exploding with even the gentlest, most heartfelt and helpful touch.
As I was trying to figure out why this is, one of my theories was that those mothers who have inner peace, self-security and decent self-esteem (I've probably just excluded most to all new first-time moms here) can look at critiques or criticism and take them for what they're worth. I'm no fan of being criticized, but when my dad approached me with something that was tantamount to criticism of my mothering, I was able to see it for what it was; the opportunity to make my daughter's life just that much better.
There's no soapbox under my feet right now and I'm FAR from a perfect/good/above-average/mediocre mom. But I think I figured this one out and that's why I'm sharing.
I look at women around me who struggle to fit in, who desperately want the PTA presidency to validate them as a person and mom, who go into debt buying their kids clothes, electronics, things they can't afford and I know that those things will, at the end of the day, not make them whole. And the sad part is that their children will pay the price.
All of us have issues because of our mothers, right? She didn't spend enough time with me, she spent too much time with me, she didn't buy me anything, she bought me everything without teaching me how to work, she loved me by feeding me, she loved me by telling me I was too fat and putting me on a diet... Got it.
Freud in all his psychobabble recognized the eternal truth that the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that forms our individual world.
And as that hand is inevitably flawed: Wrinkled, too soft, too bony, too sharp, too busy, too lax; many choose to blame the hand for the ills of life and perpetuate vicious circles of abuse, obesity, dishonestly, substance abuse - any societal ill can be traced back to home life.
But the only blame we share is when we put our own flaws and coping mechanisms ahead of our children.
She who is not whole cannot properly or adequately raise a whole person. It's scientifically and in all other ways impossible. Don't get me wrong, I'm no proponent of weeks of girlfriend vacationing time and extensive periods of "Me" time as a way to become a whole person.
Motherhood is synonymous with sacrifice, and the 'me' generation fights that tooth and nail. It's not the superficial 'whole person' I'm referring to, rather the inner soul of one being intact so as to be capable of nurturing the inner soul of a developing, often struggling child.
We made a choice to be mothers, and that is a binding commitment. But we owe much more to this rising generation than to just be 'there'. Our obligation is to be There for these children in every sense.
Too many mothers have turned to chemical dependency as an escape or coping mechanism, emotionally tuning out and by extension emotionally abandoning their children, even as they are 'there' in the mechanics of driving carpools, feeding them and making sure they are physically present.
Too many mothers have abdicated the formative bonding years with young children to the digital devices that detach individuals emotionally and mentally from each other and from society.
Too many mothers focus inordinate amounts of time on 'me' hobbies; things that could justifiably be postponed until the children have less demanding needs, but nonetheless, things that fill that inner hole.
Too many mothers revert back to coping mechanisms developed in youth, unknowingly creating new vicious cycles to be dealt with for many generations to come.
And far too many mothers, when offered gentle, loving counsel concerning these issues lay nuclear waste to the relationship with the person offering advice.
I am a far cry from a good mother, but the last thought in my head as I go to sleep, and the first thought that enters my mind in the morning is how I can do better and be better. I spend countless nights wetting my pillowcase with the tears of inadequacy that flow freely in the quiet of night, but I chose to bring these children into this world. One of the greatest consequences of this choice is how I help them function and thrive in an ever-hardening, dangerous world.
Often the most important and best things we can do for our children are those that are most difficult to start and stick with. If we can be self-aware enough and have enough courage, we can look at ourselves and our own issues; even our own 'Mom' issues (as in with our own mothers) and choose what behaviors should stay and be repeated, and what behaviors should go and not allow another generation to see their light of day.
We can also allow the criticisms (kindly meant or judgmentally heaved upon us) to help us reflect in an honest way on our parenting, and make necessary changes accordingly.
I had often heard myself criticized (mostly passive-aggressively or behind my back) for having too many kids. I took it to heart at first because coming from an abnormally large family myself, I had hated that criticism when my mom was on the receiving end. I looked at it on a personal level. Who could we have done without? It was disturbing and traumatizing to me as a child, and my desire was to have only two children so that no one could ever make my children feel that way.
Five children later I think, 'screw that, it's nobody's dang business to be in my business anymore than it was being in my mom's business' (end of personal mental quote).
One of the major criticisms is that there's no possible way to give individual attention to so many children. Well that person is welcome to walk out of their glass house into mine. I looked at the amount of personal attention my children received. It was pretty decent, but not optimal.
So I chose to take a page out of my dad's playbook and I set up a mommy date schedule with my kids. Each Saturday I rotate taking one of my children on a special outing. It is set in stone and they (even the little ones) know when it's their date day. They choose the place. I provide a baseline $10 for the date and they have a chart with the opportunity to earn extra dollars by doing extra jobs (above and beyond their normal duties) or exhibiting an especially cheerful attitude.
This is an example of taking criticism, and in this case judgmental and spiteful criticism, and making productive changes. I will put my individual relationship with each of my children up against anyone's, even only child scenarios.
It is not the quantity of our children but the quality of our relationships that define our success in parenting. And we can only succeed in the quality when we bring a whole person into the equation.
It is my continued hope that this blog can serve as a forum for mothering issues and that ultimately it will serve to make our hands that rock the cradles of our little ones, truly the greatest hands that have served the world.
Call CPS on me, I know. It was barbaric.
But at the time made total and complete sense to me. She was in a place void of visual or other stimuli and would learn quickly that it was not someplace she should desire to end up.
We were at my parents' house and she misbehaved, so consistent parent as I was, she was promptly placed in the bathroom (that had a window) with the lights off. Minutes after the time out expired, my dad asked to talk to me. He took me into his room and quite apologetically began relating to me how as a child, his grandfather had put him in a dark cellar as punishment. He had suffered great terror and anxiety because of the dark, foreboding place and expressed his concern that this might happen with his tender little granddaughter.
Then he looked at me like I was about to go all Hiroshima on him.
Much to his surprise, I told him I appreciated the honest, loving expression of concern for my little one, and that I'd re-tool my time-out strategy to be less worthy of extensive therapy sessions. Our conversation turned to why it was he had expected a mini-Normandy Beach reaction. He had had the unfortunate experience of offering similar, lovingly intentioned advice to others of his children only to have the minefield of defensive parenting explode in his face.
My father has been gone 6 years ago this past Christmastime, and very few days go by that I am not overwhelmingly grateful for his courage and wisdom in trying to impart some of his parenting wisdom on me; especially now that I don't have ready access to it.
As mothers, we are surrounded by negative, many times judgmental forces that rail that we are not good enough, not pretty enough, not involved enough, not hip enough, blah, blah, blah... Those forces combined with the sometimes overwhelming inner sense of inadequacy and imperfection can make us ticking time-bombs, exploding with even the gentlest, most heartfelt and helpful touch.
As I was trying to figure out why this is, one of my theories was that those mothers who have inner peace, self-security and decent self-esteem (I've probably just excluded most to all new first-time moms here) can look at critiques or criticism and take them for what they're worth. I'm no fan of being criticized, but when my dad approached me with something that was tantamount to criticism of my mothering, I was able to see it for what it was; the opportunity to make my daughter's life just that much better.
There's no soapbox under my feet right now and I'm FAR from a perfect/good/above-average/mediocre mom. But I think I figured this one out and that's why I'm sharing.
I look at women around me who struggle to fit in, who desperately want the PTA presidency to validate them as a person and mom, who go into debt buying their kids clothes, electronics, things they can't afford and I know that those things will, at the end of the day, not make them whole. And the sad part is that their children will pay the price.
All of us have issues because of our mothers, right? She didn't spend enough time with me, she spent too much time with me, she didn't buy me anything, she bought me everything without teaching me how to work, she loved me by feeding me, she loved me by telling me I was too fat and putting me on a diet... Got it.
Freud in all his psychobabble recognized the eternal truth that the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that forms our individual world.
And as that hand is inevitably flawed: Wrinkled, too soft, too bony, too sharp, too busy, too lax; many choose to blame the hand for the ills of life and perpetuate vicious circles of abuse, obesity, dishonestly, substance abuse - any societal ill can be traced back to home life.
But the only blame we share is when we put our own flaws and coping mechanisms ahead of our children.
She who is not whole cannot properly or adequately raise a whole person. It's scientifically and in all other ways impossible. Don't get me wrong, I'm no proponent of weeks of girlfriend vacationing time and extensive periods of "Me" time as a way to become a whole person.
Motherhood is synonymous with sacrifice, and the 'me' generation fights that tooth and nail. It's not the superficial 'whole person' I'm referring to, rather the inner soul of one being intact so as to be capable of nurturing the inner soul of a developing, often struggling child.
We made a choice to be mothers, and that is a binding commitment. But we owe much more to this rising generation than to just be 'there'. Our obligation is to be There for these children in every sense.
Too many mothers have turned to chemical dependency as an escape or coping mechanism, emotionally tuning out and by extension emotionally abandoning their children, even as they are 'there' in the mechanics of driving carpools, feeding them and making sure they are physically present.
Too many mothers have abdicated the formative bonding years with young children to the digital devices that detach individuals emotionally and mentally from each other and from society.
Too many mothers focus inordinate amounts of time on 'me' hobbies; things that could justifiably be postponed until the children have less demanding needs, but nonetheless, things that fill that inner hole.
Too many mothers revert back to coping mechanisms developed in youth, unknowingly creating new vicious cycles to be dealt with for many generations to come.
And far too many mothers, when offered gentle, loving counsel concerning these issues lay nuclear waste to the relationship with the person offering advice.
I am a far cry from a good mother, but the last thought in my head as I go to sleep, and the first thought that enters my mind in the morning is how I can do better and be better. I spend countless nights wetting my pillowcase with the tears of inadequacy that flow freely in the quiet of night, but I chose to bring these children into this world. One of the greatest consequences of this choice is how I help them function and thrive in an ever-hardening, dangerous world.
Often the most important and best things we can do for our children are those that are most difficult to start and stick with. If we can be self-aware enough and have enough courage, we can look at ourselves and our own issues; even our own 'Mom' issues (as in with our own mothers) and choose what behaviors should stay and be repeated, and what behaviors should go and not allow another generation to see their light of day.
We can also allow the criticisms (kindly meant or judgmentally heaved upon us) to help us reflect in an honest way on our parenting, and make necessary changes accordingly.
I had often heard myself criticized (mostly passive-aggressively or behind my back) for having too many kids. I took it to heart at first because coming from an abnormally large family myself, I had hated that criticism when my mom was on the receiving end. I looked at it on a personal level. Who could we have done without? It was disturbing and traumatizing to me as a child, and my desire was to have only two children so that no one could ever make my children feel that way.
Five children later I think, 'screw that, it's nobody's dang business to be in my business anymore than it was being in my mom's business' (end of personal mental quote).
One of the major criticisms is that there's no possible way to give individual attention to so many children. Well that person is welcome to walk out of their glass house into mine. I looked at the amount of personal attention my children received. It was pretty decent, but not optimal.
So I chose to take a page out of my dad's playbook and I set up a mommy date schedule with my kids. Each Saturday I rotate taking one of my children on a special outing. It is set in stone and they (even the little ones) know when it's their date day. They choose the place. I provide a baseline $10 for the date and they have a chart with the opportunity to earn extra dollars by doing extra jobs (above and beyond their normal duties) or exhibiting an especially cheerful attitude.
This is an example of taking criticism, and in this case judgmental and spiteful criticism, and making productive changes. I will put my individual relationship with each of my children up against anyone's, even only child scenarios.
It is not the quantity of our children but the quality of our relationships that define our success in parenting. And we can only succeed in the quality when we bring a whole person into the equation.
It is my continued hope that this blog can serve as a forum for mothering issues and that ultimately it will serve to make our hands that rock the cradles of our little ones, truly the greatest hands that have served the world.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Why Do People Think They Need More Than One Blog?
The time has come for me to officially split my online personality. I realized that my other blog - the one that was supposed to be filled with funny anecdotes about my weird life - was going to turn into something else if I did not create a new blog. So the muchosninosespinosas will remain what I originally intended - an homage to all things Espinosa and general life commentary from me.
This new blog will be something totally different. I have had the feeling for a while now that some of the deep and profound brain things in my head (a la King Julian of Madagascar) should have their place in the world wide web. The vast majority of these things are related to motherhood and the great weight and responsibility mothers carry in this world.
Thus the name and here's the poem it was inspired by (just so you don't think it's based on that crazy movie starring a psycho blond lady):
Wipe away your tears or stop rolling your eyes, whatever your reaction was to that poetic genius. This here blog is meant to be a forum for mothers where we can empower each other to be the best we can be. There are so many, many voices telling us we're not good enough, beautiful enough, involved with enough clubs, keeping our house clean enough, etc. We are also constantly encouraged to abdicate our maternal responsibilities to others. And we aren't given enough opportunities to laugh and mock the ridiculous in motherhood and the world.
Maybe this will be an abject failure like my other 'blog', but I don't care. We have the greatest capacity for good in this world, as William Ross Wallace so aptly penned in his above-quoted poem. We also have the greatest capacity for driving our kids into therapy, as Freud accuses. But at least we won't be doing it alone.
So here goes nothing....
ALL THE HANDS THAT ROCK THE CRADLES RULE THE WORLD (and if that's my key to power, so be it)
This new blog will be something totally different. I have had the feeling for a while now that some of the deep and profound brain things in my head (a la King Julian of Madagascar) should have their place in the world wide web. The vast majority of these things are related to motherhood and the great weight and responsibility mothers carry in this world.
Thus the name and here's the poem it was inspired by (just so you don't think it's based on that crazy movie starring a psycho blond lady):
Blessings on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace,
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;
Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Infancy's the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mother's first to guide the streamlets,
From them souls unresting grow--
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Woman, how divine your mission
Here upon our natal sod!
Keep, oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!
All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky--
Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Wipe away your tears or stop rolling your eyes, whatever your reaction was to that poetic genius. This here blog is meant to be a forum for mothers where we can empower each other to be the best we can be. There are so many, many voices telling us we're not good enough, beautiful enough, involved with enough clubs, keeping our house clean enough, etc. We are also constantly encouraged to abdicate our maternal responsibilities to others. And we aren't given enough opportunities to laugh and mock the ridiculous in motherhood and the world.
Maybe this will be an abject failure like my other 'blog', but I don't care. We have the greatest capacity for good in this world, as William Ross Wallace so aptly penned in his above-quoted poem. We also have the greatest capacity for driving our kids into therapy, as Freud accuses. But at least we won't be doing it alone.
So here goes nothing....
ALL THE HANDS THAT ROCK THE CRADLES RULE THE WORLD (and if that's my key to power, so be it)
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