Kristen Howerton

red scare on social justice

Kristen Howerton — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 23:45:27 -0800

I don't really think the latest Glen Beck quote needs much editorial from me - but I am concerned about the implications, given Beck's popularity with evangelical Christians.

"I'm begging you, your right to religion and freedom to exercise religion and read all of the passages of the Bible as you want to read them and as your church wants to preach them . . . are going to come under the ropes in the next year. If it lasts that long it will be the next year. I beg you, look for the words 'social justice' or 'economic justice' on your church Web site. If you find it, run as fast as you can. Social justice and economic justice, they are code words. Now, am I advising people to leave their church? Yes!"

Beck seems to be confusing socialism (a political ideology) with social justice (a concern for experiencing poverty or discriminiation). Social justice is the idea that Christians should not merely give to the poor, but also work to correct unjust conditions that keep people poor. Many of us consider it a recurring theme in Scripture. And yet, Glenn Beck remains an extremely popular voice in mainstream Christian circles, despite railing against social justice.

Jim Wallis responded to this quote above by saying:

"In attacking churches that espouse social justice, Mr. Beck is taking on most mainline Protestant, Roman Catholic, black and Hispanic congregations in the country — not to mention plenty of evangelical churches and even his own, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints."

What are your thoughts on Beck's call to arms against social justice?

this.

Kristen Howerton — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 21:36:24 -0800

When Mark and I are "on our game" (which we are not right now), we like to do affirmations with the kids at the dinner table. Generally it involves us going around the table and saying a few things we like about each kid, and a few ways they have made us proud that day. We haven't done this since Kembe came home, and the other night as we were eating it occurred to me that we needed to include him in this tradition.

I went around the table, saying the usual things. As we affirmed Jafta, and then India, and then each other, Kembe sat there quietly, with wide eyes and a curious look. I could tell he understood what I was saying and was watching with anticipation. Then, it was his turn. I told him in my best Krenglish how much I loved him, how funny he is, how nice he is to the baby, how handsome he is, and how happy we are that he is in our family.

Oh my word. If I could have somehow captured the look on his face at this moment, it would melt your heart. He just got this look about him that I've never seen. It was pure joy . . . just unadulterated excitement and pride and happiness. He was BEAMING. And seeing him, I just thought: this.

This is what every child longs for and deserves . . . the adoration and affection from a parent. This is why I spent the better part of a day sounding off at a small portion of a news program dissing adoption. This is why I get so frustrated with attempts to shut down children being placed in the home of a loving family, because of something like race, or location, or sexual orientation, or finances, or home size.

When you see a glimpse of a child getting it - this. This family thing. When that starts to click and you get to bear witness to it . . . I just don't think there is anything more beautiful.

Prayers for Ronel

Kristen Howerton — Fri, 29 Jan 2010 23:43:34 -0800

My heart is heavy tonight for the adoptive parents who are still waiting to get their children home from Haiti, and for the children who wait in the balance. Since we got our son out of Haiti last week, things have changed dramatically. On January 18th, the US government announced it was granting humanitarian parole for orphans already in the process of adoption. This made perfect sense: these children were shown to be eligible for adoption prior to the earthquake. The Haitian and US government go through extensive searches when a child enters the system to show this to be true, including the procurement of death certificates, DNA testing, and birthparent interviews. I was so proud that our country saw the value of evacuating these children into the care of waiting families in the US, not only to remove them from a precarious situation, but also to free up room in orphanages to take care of children who are orphaned or displaced as a result of the earthquake.

This all seemed to make sense for a couple days. The US agreed, Haiti agreed, and we saw lots of personal interest news stories of happy families united with their children. That is, until UNICEF stepped in. UNICEF, with their seemingly charitable gestures towards children worldwide, happens to be an organization that is staunchly, and often illogically, anti-adoption. It is also an organization that wields a great amount of power (and money), and when they put the pressure on, Haiti complies. There is a lot to be said about UNICEF's views. There is an essay brewing there - but for now, the short version is that UNICEF would prefer children without parents to be raised in an institution within their culture of origin rather than by a loving family of a different culture. In other words, race/culture trumps family/nurture/security. (It doesn't take a psychologist to see the faulty logic there).

Over the last week, the effort to get previously-matched children out of Haiti has slowed considerably. Extra steps have been added, redundant steps, steps that pose no added measure of safety since these children HAVE ALREADY BEEN CLASSIFIED AS ADOPTABLE BY THE HAITIAN GOVERNMENT, and since these parents HAVE ALREADY SUBMITTED AN EXTENSIVE HOMESTUDY/DOSSIER/BACKGROUND CHECK. This is effecting hundreds of waiting children. One such child is Ronel.

I want to tell Ronel's story, because I think it is a compelling example of the need for international adoption, and a tragic (hopefully only temporarily tragic) example of how UNICEF's corruption affects orphaned children. Ronel was abandoned at the Rescue Center of Real Hope for Haiti, which is an amazing medical mission that takes in malnourished children and nurses them back to health. I am constantly amazed by the life-saving work these sisters do. When he was brought in, he weight 28 pounds (less than my daughter India). They were unsure of his age, but guessed him to be about 7 or 8 years old. Over a few months at the Rescue Center, his weight nearly doubled. Because his parents had died and no other family came to claim him, they searched for an adoptive family.

(photo from RHFH blog, before treatment)

Debra answered that call. I've never met Debra in person, but I feel like we're friends through this crazy blogging world. She is friends (the real-life kind) with Jamie, who posted a photo of Ronel on her blog. Debra saw the picture and knew. THIS WAS HER SON. She and her husband Ernest started the process to adopt Ronel. This was well over a year ago. Like many of us, they were in the wait to get him home when the earthquake happened. Like many of us, they moved into action to try to get their son home. Ronel was supposed to come home the night Kembert did. He was one of the kids who did not get approval, and got left behind. My heart was so heavy for Debra that night, as she rejoiced for those of us getting our kids home. But even worse was reading this visiting missionary's account of what that night was like for Ronel:

Tara told me today that the boys were flying to the US. One was going to his adoptive family in Houston Texas, the other to a family in Dallas. When I got back from my days work, the boys were all dressed in their very best to meet their new families. They were so excited. I was so excited for them. It was hard to watch them go. Later in the evening after dinner, the truck returned from the airport where 27 children were flying to meet their new parents. In the front seat of the truck was Ronel, the 6-7 year old that was staying in my room. I asked why he was still here and Tara told me it was because they needed one more paper for him. The other children got to go. She said she hoped they could get the needed paperwork tomorrow. I would never wish for you to see the disappointment on Ronel's face because it would crush your heart... it did mine. It was dark and the power was off. He went into our room, laid down on the bed, pulled the sheets up and sobbed. It was so sad. Tara came in and talked to him in Kreole... I'm not sure what she said but I know she was trying to comfort him. After a time she got up and left as I sat across the room. I could not leave him by himself. I went over and motioned for him to move over and I laid down next to him. The tears were pouring out of him. He was still in his new clothes as he fell asleep.

The embassy wanted one more paper to send Ronel home. He was supposed to go home the next day. That was a week ago. Three days ago, Debra's husband flew down to try to get him out. From Debra:

I did not know I would literally have to fight for him.

He [Ernest] just got word that the US is deciding to comply with a request from the Haitian government. That request is to approve of all children who leave the country after they have been cleared by the United States. France and Canada have not complied and are getting their waiting children home. Our US Ambassador has not cleared children and will not see the parents waiting/pleading. They were just told that the Ambassador has left for the day.

There are sick children and pregnant women sleeping on the floor in hopes to bring children home all the while nothing is being signed out. All documents are ready to go except for that approval.
...
E has said that every time they call him to the window Ronel runs up to his side and says a phrase in kreyol with an expectant look on his face CAN WE GO? As in can we go home. As in can we go to THIS home. His home.

I will not lie and say that I am not fighting fear. I am. I am fearful of Ronel being hurt again. Being left again. It would break Ernest. I cannot imagine what it would do to Ronel. Would he understand that we would still fight for him? To think of it makes my stomach sick.

That was written yesterday. They spent all day at the embassy again today. They still don't know if or when the ambassador will sign them out.

Ronel's story is just one story of hundreds. Hundreds of orphaned children with waiting families, and nothing separating them but political manoeuvrings and power plays that put children at risk. I hope that you will read this and consider educating yourself on UNICEF's history in thwarting international adoption, and register your voice of dissent.

Raymond Joseph Haitian Ambassador to US

embassy@haiti.org

p 202-332-4090 f 202-745-7215

Kenneth H Merten

US Ambassador to Haiti

Tabarre 41, Blvd 15 Octobre

Port-au-Prince, Haiti

Haiti-earthquake@state.gov

P 509 22 29 8000

F 509 22 29 8028

Hilary Clinton/Dept of State

U.S. Department of State

2201 C Street NW

Washington, DC 20520

Main Switchboard: 202-647-4000

twitchy (day 2 from Haiti)

Kristen Howerton — Sun, 17 Jan 2010 23:24:29 -0800

January 13, 2010 from Port-Au-Prince

Today continued to be very emotional. I am at the end of myself. I don’t think I’ve slept well in a week and we all feel a little crazy. The tremors have continued. They are not as frequent but there were two very intense ones this evening, that caused the walls to rattle. However, all day long the earth feels like it is pitching. This is extremely difficult for me. I think we all have a little PTSD from yesterday and every shake brings back that feeling of dread. I am in hyper vigilant mode. I am constantly aware of how far I am from a door. I’m trying to keep both kids nearby at all times. Every plane that flies overhead, every loud car, every time the gate opens, I feel my muscles twitch for the door. It is incredibly insane to be afraid of being indoors. We spent a good part of the evening sitting in the driveway, but the mosquitoes are in full-force and it looked like it might rain. We are indoors now, and it’s making me incredibly anxious. I took a shower earlier and I left a set of clothes outside, just in case I had to make a run for it. I didn’t want to be those ladies we saw last night, in the street in a towel.

We took a walk earlier, just inside the gate of the private neighborhood where we are staying. Most families had erected beds and mosquito netting in their front yard. One house was watching CNN with rabbit ears in the front yard. It looks like Haiti is receiving full-time coverage. It was sobering to see that, since we are so out of touch. It was a reminder of how grave the situation is, and it scared me. We also walked by women singing and reading the bible in their yards. I think they believe that this is the end of the world.

Troy continues to go out during the day and report back. Today he came back with quite a bit of photo footage. There are dead people everywhere. This is a concern, because if the bodies are not disposed of properly it because a public safety issue. Tara and I are worried about that. They also spent time at a clinic that is dressing wounds, and continued to tell us how bad it is. About five of them went out today and when they got back, they looked like they had seen a ghost. When people are crushed under cement, the injuries are serious.

I’ve been very stressed today, and I’m trying hard to snap out of it by writing, and by listening to my ipod. I’m finding it hard to engage with Kembert. The language barrier is difficult, and Karis is sick and very clingy. I know he must sense my stress. I find myself just staring off into the distance, or quietly crying. Tonight we put a movie on for the kids. It was Stuart Little, and I hate this movie. But my own kids watched it last week. I started crying just thinking of them sitting in their room at home, and how much I want to be there.

Later I was playing with Karis and saw Mark’s face so clearly in hers. I miss him so much.
The stress of being here is overwhelming. So much devastation, but the potential for danger is so great. There is already talk of diesel shortages and potential food rationing. There is no city electricity. We have no way of communicating with anyone. I have a ticket to leave tomorrow, but I’m hearing that the airport may be closed. I also have a ticket for Friday, but it may not resume until Monday. I’m also hearing that the earliest flight out is in February. Thinking about being stuck here that long is freaking me out. We have no way of knowing how or when I can leave. Tomorrow I go to the airport, and I’m willing to pay whatever it takes to get to any US city. I can figure it out from there.

Shaken (day 1 from Haiti)

Kristen Howerton — Sat, 16 Jan 2010 14:30:58 -0800

(from Tuesday)

Last night a massive earthquake hit Port-Au-Prince, Haiti, where I am visiting our adoptive son. I am still reeling. The reports I’ve heard are saying it was a 7.4. I’m finding that hard to believe, having been through many an earthquake in my day living in California. It felt like nothing I have ever experienced.

At about 5pm, we were getting ready to head out for dinner. I had Karis strapped in her infant car seat, and Keanan was playing in the backyard. I ran upstairs to grab my purse. On the way down the stairs, the house started shaking violently. It was shaking so hard that I had to grab on to the railing to make it down. The ground was pitching and tiles were flying off the walls. I could see cracks forming in the walls, and it was difficult to even see from shaking. It sounded as if a helicopter was landing on top of the house. I made it down the stairs, ran to grab the carseat, and then ran outside, where the shaking continued. Outside we could hear people screaming, and though it was less than a minute, it felt like an eternity. The people in the streets were panicking, and we saw two women in towels, who must have run from the shower.

It’s startling what goes through your mind at a time like that. My first thought was getting Karis to safety, which I knew would be outside. Thank God I was not holding her as I went down the stairway. I was also scrambling trying to figure out what was going on. The shaking and noise was so extreme that I thought for sure it could not be an earthquake. I have never heard of Haiti being hit with an earthquake, so I was assuming something else was going on. I thought maybe the island was being bombed. I also had some thoughts about Armageddon – it felt like a disaster movie. By the time I got outside I thought the ground might even open up . . . that’s how hard it was shaking. Mostly, I just knew that it was bad, and I was very scared. The pendant lights in the house were swinging, and one fell down. The kitchen cabinets lost all their contents, and there was glass everywhere. Dressers, lamps, pictures . . . all on the floor. A table even collapsed.

Once we got outside, those of us in the house gathered and made sure everyone was okay. About ten minutes later, another earthquake. This was not as bad as the first, but still worse than any I’ve been through. These aftershocks continued through the night. I’m told at least 13 of them measured above a 4. It felt like they were coming every 20-30 minutes for a while. We were all pretty traumatized by the first quake, but the continuing shaking was extremely stressful. It felt like it would never end, and it was hard to feel safe no matter where we went. We gathered in front of the house so that we were clear of anything that could crumble. I tried to compose myself so that we wouldn’t freak out the kids any further, but it was difficult. I was fighting back tears with each new tremor, and wondering when it would stop and how we would get through the night.

We sat outside for a long time, and people stopped by to check in. We started getting a clearer picture of the devastation, and of how fortunate we had been. Buildings in Haiti do not need permits, and many are not structurally sound. Even in the nicer neighborhood we were in, many houses caved in. John McHoul stopped by to report that all of the kids in both orphanages were okay, which was a huge relief. Troy Livesay went out several times to check on others – you can follow his twitter feed at www.twitter.com/troylivesay. I think his tweets have been quoted on every major news source because it’s one of the few ways people can get information directly from Haiti, since phones and internet are down throughout the city. He witnessed several hillside neighborhoods where every house had buckled. There were many people looking for loved ones in collapsed houses. They checked on a few other children’s homes . I don’t want to say too much because I don’t know all the details, and I’m guessing people are searching any way they can. I know that Three Angels children’s home is okay, as is Maison de Lumiere. I know that there are other people missing, and that Troy just went out to search for some other families. All day long

Troy and Tara have been receiving emails from people in the states wondering about loved ones. It has been very heavy. Thankfully some of them were found alive. I know that there are many, many people in this city who did not survive. The nation’s palace has collapsed, as did many major buildings. This is a devastating loss and my heart is heavy for so many families who are unsure right now.

I am very cognizant of how fortunate we are, and how narrowly we missed disaster by being in the right kind of building. It is heady to think that I owe my life right now to a Haitian contractor who didn’t cut corners during construction. I am still walking around in a daze. The big tremors have subsided at least for a bit – the last one was several hours ago. But we are still feeling a lot of intermittent shaking. It’s so unsettling. Last night was HARD. We debated sleeping outside because we were all so scared. I ended up sleeping on the bottom floor and a couple times grabbed Karis and ran to the door because the shaking was so bad.

Keanan is still with me, and seems unfazed by the whole thing. I’m sure I appear very stressed and I’m trying to make the best of this time with him. At the same time, I am desperate to get home and miss my husband and family terribly. I can’t wait to hug my kids.

I am also feeling stressed because Karis is sick. She’s been vomiting a lot, and it doesn’t seem like anything major, but I would just like to be back in the states in case in gets worse. I was already debating leaving early because she is sick, and now there is no way of getting any medical treatment. Hopefully (probably) she is fine and just has a stomach bug. Troy and some of the other Heartline staff spent a good part of the night at a makeshift clinic treating the injured. There are so many seriously wounded. I really have no way of knowing, but from the little I’ve seen I think the impact on Port-Au-Prince will be similar to the impact Katrina had on New Orleans. However, the country of Haiti has absolutely no resources to cope with something like this. People in the states with access to the news and internet probably have more information than we do. The city electricity is out and probably will be for some time. The Livesays are worried there may be diesel shortages following, and there is certainly not enough hospital beds to treat the sick.

I have tickets to fly out tomorrow but I don’t know if the airport will be operating (update - AA flights cancelled). I’m sure it will be a mob scene once it opens. Another fear that many have expressed is the tendency for things like this in Haiti to result in rioting or looting. I’m hoping that does not happen but I know that there will be many people angry people who do things out of desperation, as well as many fighting to leave the country in the next few days. Ironically, the first time I visited Haiti was in 1992, during a political coup d’état, and there was a similar scene as everyone tried to leave the country. I’m not looking forward to repeating that.

So far, I’ve been seeing people coming together. Last night about 200 people in this neighborhood gathered in a large field, and I could hear them singing worship songs as I tried to sleep. At every tremor, the singing got louder. We also heard that some streets shut down lanes of traffic to allow people to sleep away from buildings. As we walked this morning, it seemed like most people were outside, wanting to avoid being near anything that could fall or crumble. I know that the hospitals are in bad shape and that some doctors and nurses left their shifts, but I also know that other doctors have been setting up clinics.

I am exhausted. I haven’t showered since Monday morning and haven’t slept much since before the half-marathon. I’m trying to keep my perspective and remain grateful despite the circumstances. This is a rattling experience for me but it has been disastrous for many.
Please pray for the people of Haiti, and for the many families who will be grieving their loss at this time.

Gifts That Give Back

Kristen Howerton — Sat, 12 Dec 2009 18:12:40 -0800

In a season marked by giving, we love the idea of giving back to our community and our planet. This year, my family decided to forego gifts for the adults, and give donations in each person's name instead. It's been so fun thinking of each family member and finding ways to honor each of them with a unique donation. At Mama Manifesto, we wanted to provide our readers with a list of ways you can do your Christmas shopping and give back at the same time. Here are a few ideas:

The bags and purses from Haitian Creations are handmade by women in Haiti, who are a part of a sewing program that is giving these impoverished women lifelong skills. The ability to earn money gives these women the ability to be self-sufficient, to support their families, and to have the independence they need in a society where this is often difficult.

The Body Shop's hand cream has a fresh, citrusy scent and will leave your hands feeling soft and smooth. The added bonus is that $6 from each purchase of Soft Hands Kind Heart hand cream goes towards fighting against human trafficking. We heart the body shop in a big way for how they put their money where their mouth is.

Kauzbots is a line of 10 plush toy robots – each one with its own “kauze.” 10% of the retail price from each adorable bot is donated directly to the non-profit that is noted on the hang tag. With a wide variety of charities to choose from (including AIDS Walk, Arbor Day Foundation, Lifewater International, and 7 others), you’re sure to find one that touches your heart. Kauzbots are designed to inspire kids to change the world!

Punjammies are adorable sari-inspired pajamas. Each Punjammies are created in an after-care facility for women who have been rescued, released or escaped from a life of forced prostitution. Holistic aftercare involves quality medical care, emotional safety, education and the tools to create a new way of life for herself.

The Hunger Site - If you go under Gifts that Give More on the sidebar, there are a lot of interesting things you can purchase in someone else’s name - things as different as a child’s education for a year or a microloan for a pig or goat.

Charity : water - 1 in 8 people on the planet do not have access to clean drinking water. Be a part of the movement to bring clean and safe drinking water to developing nations. Heather Mattos & Julie Carson, two of our mama writers, have linked up with some other incredible mamas to launch Project 320 - an online raffle that is going to fund a new well in a village that is currently without clean drinking water. We love this project and hope you will support it!

Rising Tide Fair Trade sells beautiful bohemian style bags of various sizes (weekender bags to hand bags) that are hand made in a woman's fair trade labor coop in West Bengal, India from re-purposed vintage kantha saris and cruelty-free black or brown suede. The female artisans earn a fair wage that allows them to provide for their families.

Rocks in the Sun is a gorgeous photography book filled with Haitian proverbs and photos of this beautiful but impoverished country. It's compiled by Troy Livesay, who lives in Haiti and does great mission work there (and just happens to be a stellar photog). This would make a great coffee table book, and the proceeds go towards their missions work with Heartline Haiti and Worldwide Village.

World Vision has an amazing gift catalog where you can buy a number of innovative and sustaining gifts for people living in poverty. Their website even allows you to purchase and print a card letting a loved one know you have donated in their name. You can purchase medical attention for a pregnant woman, a goat that can provide milk to a child - even a grove of fruit trees!

31 Bits Jewelry is made out of 100% recycled paper, posters, and magazines by internally displaced women in Northern Uganda. Each piece of jewelry is unique and hand-crafted by a woman in the community of Gulu, Uganda.

Krochet Kids international works in developing nations to empower impoverished communities to rise above poverty. Each day, a group of women in Northern Uganda gather in a simple brick hut. The crocheted products these women are making provide immediate stability for their families, share about the realities of poverty, and their sale promotes the development of their community.

Have any other resources for gifts that give back? Leave a comment and tell us about it!

Some Screen Time for your Screen Time

Kristen Howerton — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 21:40:13 -0800

I may not be a cock-eyed optimist. But something about So You Think You Can Dance makes me feel a little better about the world. Who doesn't love a show full of fun dance numbers? It's part talent show, part eye candy, and part artistic expression: a reality show that isn't about celebrity or idiocy but rather about talent and athleticism; stamina and creativity.

I was so excited for the season to really start, because I am not a fan of the audition weeks' Parade of Freaks, and was ready for the top twenty to show their stuff. Now, I am a seriously sleep-deprived mom, and prone to a bit of the curmudgeondry as of late. but the new set on the show was sending me through the roof. To the point where, fifteen minutes in, I was already badgering my husband with, "Do you see this set? Are you SEEING this? What is with this, Mark? Whaaaat?"

So that set. The oval shape is annoying. The weird florescent elephant-tusks on the sides are distracting. But what is with the jumbotron behind the dancers? It was playing scenes of glittery graphics or mutating stock photos throughout every dance number. Because, why? We can't possibly be expected to watch just dancing? Has our collective ADD gotten so bad that we have to watch something on a tv set behind what we are watching on the tv set?

As I tried to analyze why this jazzed-up set was so under my skin, it dawned on me that so many of us are trying to actually reduce our screen time . . . to spend less time in front of the computer screen or tv set. Granted, this is still a tv show, and a reality show at that, but there was always something about it that seemed a little elevated. Just two beautiful dancers, on a minimalist stage, expressing joy and beauty and frustration with their bodies.

AND NOW IN FRONT OF A GAZILLION-WATT SCREEN PLAYING A GIANT SCREEN-SAVER GRAPHIC. Just in case you were getting bored.

But as I waxed philosophical about why this was so bothersome for me, I had a vague memory of thinking the same thing about some worship experiences I've had recently. At some of the churches I've attended, or camps I've visited, it seems like the new trend is to have the song lyrics projected in front of a moving vignette of pictures on the big screen. Some of the ones I've seen include a rapid-shot sunset in front of a cross, a glass of water being filled, or a page being filled with water-color brushstrokes. I recall thinking that it seemed a bit strange - did we really need to watch moving scenery during our worship? Was just plain worship no longer enough?

It's a tricky business, this relationship we have with our "screens". I'm sure in both instances, the powers-that-be are assuming that a little extra visual stimulation is necessary to hold the attention of a generation hooked on screen-time. The whole phenomenon makes me wonder if this shift to hyper-media has become a way of being relevant, even in the church. What do you think? Is more screen time just fostering our corporate attention deficit? Or is it a matter of "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em?"

much ado about nothing

Kristen Howerton — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 01:46:44 -0700

Obama delivered a completely non-controversial speech today, that was banned due to the controversy surrounding the lack of controversy that was his not-at-all controversial speech. In the days prior, a good portion of the conservative contingency got their panties in a wad about the president giving a pep talk about hot-button issues like perseverance and staying in school and setting goals. Of course, it sounded a little more exciting when the extremists were using words like re-education and brainwashing. Comparisons to Hitler are always a little more provocative then the banal reality of irrational partisan squabbling.

My kids are not in school yet, so I didn't have to worry about their pretty little minds getting brainwashed by our president and his cult of personality. But I did Tivo it and let my kids listen. I watched them very, very closely for signs that the socialism might be catching on, but they mostly looked pretty bored. That is, until Jafta started quoting Charles Fourier and India put a beret on her head and planned a cooperative communal uprising with her Groovy Girls dolls.

I kid, I kid.

In all seriousness, perhaps this "red scare on schoolyard" debacle can be a reminder that there IS, in fact, and time and a place to set partisanship paranoia aside. Sending a message to our youth about the importance of their education seems like a good time to me, and might even be an indication that our president is not, in fact, an enemy to our children, even if we disagree with his policies.

Of course, this brand of partisan drama isn't new. George Bush was met with resistance from some liberal extremists who felt he shouldn't be speaking in the classroom, though the criticism at that time did not seem to erupt into quite so great a furor. Perhaps that's because George Bush was more appealing to a whiter majority. Er, I mean a wider majority.

Where was I going with this?

Just for kicks, here is the speech in all it's licentiousness.

Prepared Remarks of President Barack Obama Back to School Event
Arlington, Virginia September 8, 2009

The President: Hello everyone – how’s everybody doing today? I’m here with students at Wakefield High School in Arlington, Virginia. And we’ve got students tuning in from all across America, kindergarten through twelfth grade. I’m glad you all could join us today.
I know that for many of you, today is the first day of school. And for those of you in kindergarten, or starting middle or high school, it’s your first day in a new school, so it’s understandable if you’re a little nervous. I imagine there are some seniors out there who are feeling pretty good right now, with just one more year to go. And no matter what grade you’re in, some of you are probably wishing it were still summer, and you could’ve stayed in bed just a little longer this morning.

I know that feeling. When I was young, my family lived in Indonesia for a few years, and my mother didn’t have the money to send me where all the American kids went to school. So she decided to teach me extra lessons herself, Monday through Friday – at 4:30 in the morning.
Now I wasn’t too happy about getting up that early. A lot of times, I’d fall asleep right there at the kitchen table. But whenever I’d complain, my mother would just give me one of those looks and say, "This is no picnic for me either, buster."

So I know some of you are still adjusting to being back at school. But I’m here today because I have something important to discuss with you. I’m here because I want to talk with you about your education and what’s expected of all of you in this new school year.

Now I’ve given a lot of speeches about education. And I’ve talked a lot about responsibility.
I’ve talked about your teachers’ responsibility for inspiring you, and pushing you to learn.
I’ve talked about your parents’ responsibility for making sure you stay on track, and get your homework done, and don’t spend every waking hour in front of the TV or with that Xbox.
I’ve talked a lot about your government’s responsibility for setting high standards, supporting teachers and principals, and turning around schools that aren’t working where students aren’t getting the opportunities they deserve.

But at the end of the day, we can have the most dedicated teachers, the most supportive parents, and the best schools in the world – and none of it will matter unless all of you fulfill your responsibilities. Unless you show up to those schools; pay attention to those teachers; listen to your parents, grandparents and other adults; and put in the hard work it takes to succeed.

And that’s what I want to focus on today: the responsibility each of you has for your education. I want to start with the responsibility you have to yourself.

Every single one of you has something you’re good at. Every single one of you has something to offer. And you have a responsibility to yourself to discover what that is. That’s the opportunity an education can provide.

Maybe you could be a good writer – maybe even good enough to write a book or articles in a newspaper – but you might not know it until you write a paper for your English class. Maybe you could be an innovator or an inventor – maybe even good enough to come up with the next iPhone or a new medicine or vaccine – but you might not know it until you do a project for your science class. Maybe you could be a mayor or a Senator or a Supreme Court Justice, but you might not know that until you join student government or the debate team.

And no matter what you want to do with your life – I guarantee that you’ll need an education to do it. You want to be a doctor, or a teacher, or a police officer? You want to be a nurse or an architect, a lawyer or a member of our military? You’re going to need a good education for every single one of those careers. You can’t drop out of school and just drop into a good job. You’ve got to work for it and train for it and learn for it.

And this isn’t just important for your own life and your own future. What you make of your education will decide nothing less than the future of this country. What you’re learning in school today will determine whether we as a nation can meet our greatest challenges in the future.

You’ll need the knowledge and problem-solving skills you learn in science and math to cure diseases like cancer and AIDS, and to develop new energy technologies and protect our environment. You’ll need the insights and critical thinking skills you gain in history and social studies to fight poverty and homelessness, crime and discrimination, and make our nation more fair and more free. You’ll need the creativity and ingenuity you develop in all your classes to build new companies that will create new jobs and boost our economy.

We need every single one of you to develop your talents, skills and intellect so you can help solve our most difficult problems. If you don’t do that – if you quit on school – you’re not just quitting on yourself, you’re quitting on your country.

Now I know it’s not always easy to do well in school. I know a lot of you have challenges in your lives right now that can make it hard to focus on your schoolwork.

I get it. I know what that’s like. My father left my family when I was two years old, and I was raised by a single mother who struggled at times to pay the bills and wasn’t always able to give us things the other kids had. There were times when I missed having a father in my life. There were times when I was lonely and felt like I didn’t fit in.

So I wasn’t always as focused as I should have been. I did some things I’m not proud of, and got in more trouble than I should have. And my life could have easily taken a turn for the worse.

But I was fortunate. I got a lot of second chances and had the opportunity to go to college, and law school, and follow my dreams. My wife, our First Lady Michelle Obama, has a similar story. Neither of her parents had gone to college, and they didn’t have much. But they worked hard, and she worked hard, so that she could go to the best schools in this country.
Some of you might not have those advantages. Maybe you don’t have adults in your life who give you the support that you need. Maybe someone in your family has lost their job, and there’s not enough money to go around. Maybe you live in a neighborhood where you don’t feel safe, or have friends who are pressuring you to do things you know aren’t right.

But at the end of the day, the circumstances of your life – what you look like, where you come from, how much money you have, what you’ve got going on at home – that’s no excuse for neglecting your homework or having a bad attitude. That’s no excuse for talking back to your teacher, or cutting class, or dropping out of school. That’s no excuse for not trying.

Where you are right now doesn’t have to determine where you’ll end up. No one’s written your destiny for you. Here in America, you write your own destiny. You make your own future.

That’s what young people like you are doing every day, all across America.
Young people like Jazmin Perez, from Roma, Texas. Jazmin didn’t speak English when she first started school. Hardly anyone in her hometown went to college, and neither of her parents had gone either. But she worked hard, earned good grades, got a scholarship to Brown University, and is now in graduate school, studying public health, on her way to being Dr. Jazmin Perez.

I’m thinking about Andoni Schultz, from Los Altos, California, who’s fought brain cancer since he was three. He’s endured all sorts of treatments and surgeries, one of which affected his memory, so it took him much longer – hundreds of extra hours – to do his schoolwork. But he never fell behind, and he’s headed to college this fall.

And then there’s Shantell Steve, from my hometown of Chicago, Illinois. Even when bouncing from foster home to foster home in the toughest neighborhoods, she managed to get a job at a local health center; start a program to keep young people out of gangs; and she’s on track to graduate high school with honors and go on to college.

Jazmin, Andoni and Shantell aren’t any different from any of you. They faced challenges in their lives just like you do. But they refused to give up. They chose to take responsibility for their education and set goals for themselves. And I expect all of you to do the same.
That’s why today, I’m calling on each of you to set your own goals for your education – and to do everything you can to meet them. Your goal can be something as simple as doing all your homework, paying attention in class, or spending time each day reading a book. Maybe you’ll decide to get involved in an extracurricular activity, or volunteer in your community. Maybe you’ll decide to stand up for kids who are being teased or bullied because of who they are or how they look, because you believe, like I do, that all kids deserve a safe environment to study and learn. Maybe you’ll decide to take better care of yourself so you can be more ready to learn. And along those lines, I hope you’ll all wash your hands a lot, and stay home from school when you don’t feel well, so we can keep people from getting the flu this fall and winter.

Whatever you resolve to do, I want you to commit to it. I want you to really work at it.
I know that sometimes, you get the sense from TV that you can be rich and successful without any hard work -- that your ticket to success is through rapping or basketball or being a reality TV star, when chances are, you’re not going to be any of those things.

But the truth is, being successful is hard. You won’t love every subject you study. You won’t click with every teacher. Not every homework assignment will seem completely relevant to your life right this minute. And you won’t necessarily succeed at everything the first time you try.

That’s OK. Some of the most successful people in the world are the ones who’ve had the most failures. JK Rowling’s first Harry Potter book was rejected twelve times before it was finally published. Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team, and he lost hundreds of games and missed thousands of shots during his career. But he once said, "I have failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed."

These people succeeded because they understand that you can’t let your failures define you – you have to let them teach you. You have to let them show you what to do differently next time. If you get in trouble, that doesn’t mean you’re a troublemaker, it means you need to try harder to behave. If you get a bad grade, that doesn’t mean you’re stupid, it just means you need to spend more time studying.

No one’s born being good at things, you become good at things through hard work. You’re not a varsity athlete the first time you play a new sport. You don’t hit every note the first time you sing a song. You’ve got to practice. It’s the same with your schoolwork. You might have to do a math problem a few times before you get it right, or read something a few times before you understand it, or do a few drafts of a paper before it’s good enough to hand in.

Don’t be afraid to ask questions. Don’t be afraid to ask for help when you need it. I do that every day. Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of strength. It shows you have the courage to admit when you don’t know something, and to learn something new. So find an adult you trust – a parent, grandparent or teacher; a coach or counselor – and ask them to help you stay on track to meet your goals.

And even when you’re struggling, even when you’re discouraged, and you feel like other people have given up on you – don’t ever give up on yourself. Because when you give up on yourself, you give up on your country.
The story of America isn’t about people who quit when things got tough. It’s about people who kept going, who tried harder, who loved their country too much to do anything less than their best.

It’s the story of students who sat where you sit 250 years ago, and went on to wage a revolution and found this nation. Students who sat where you sit 75 years ago who overcame a Depression and won a world war; who fought for civil rights and put a man on the moon. Students who sat where you sit 20 years ago who founded Google, Twitter and Facebook and changed the way we communicate with each other.

So today, I want to ask you, what’s your contribution going to be? What problems are you going to solve? What discoveries will you make? What will a president who comes here in twenty or fifty or one hundred years say about what all of you did for this country?

Your families, your teachers, and I are doing everything we can to make sure you have the education you need to answer these questions. I’m working hard to fix up your classrooms and get you the books, equipment and computers you need to learn. But you’ve got to do your part too. So I expect you to get serious this year. I expect you to put your best effort into everything you do. I expect great things from each of you. So don’t let us down – don’t let your family or your country or yourself down. Make us all proud. I know you can do it.
Thank you, God bless you, and God bless America.

The Trauma of Childhood Sports

Kristen Howerton — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 15:54:48 -0700

We had a little crisis this week involving sports. My four-year-old Jafta has been begging to attend a basketball camp for the past three months, and I signed him up for one through our city for preschool-aged kids. All summer, he's been asking about it and counting down to when it would start. It was supposed to start Monday. On Saturday, I got a call telling me it had been cancelled.

I found myself with two options:
1) completely crush my son and have him mope about it endlessly until the next camp starts IN OCTOBER
2) enroll him in a camp running this week for kids age 5-8

Which one do you think I did?

Growing up in a family that didn't really do sports, I am having a long and rocky learning curve as I navigate the role of "sports mom". I would like to pretend that it's just a new cultural experience for me, but the reality is that athletics have always brought up deep insecurities for me. And as any parent knows, having a child basically means watching your own fears and insecurities walk around outside your body. Watching him at camp this week was no exception.

Like when you drop your son off and watch him roam aimlessly through the gym, clearly self-conscious about being the new kid, looking for a friend or something to do and seemingly unsure of where to even put his hands as he looks for a familiar face.

Like when you see him find the few kids he knows, and he runs to them, but then he walks away because they seem engaged and he seems intimidated.

Like when you observe that just because your four-year-old looks old enough to pass for a K-2 student, doesn’t mean he can keep up athletically. There is a vast difference of skill level between your child and the other kids, and you know that he notices, too. Only he doesn’t understand that it’s an age/motor development issue. He just knows he can’t do things as well as everyone else.

Or when, on the first day, you don't send him with snack money because you don't know that they break for snack halfway through, so he sits and watches other kids eat and then can't recover for the second half of the day. Not because he was desperately hungry, but because he was left out.

When, after the first day, he requests to play football instead, and you remember that after his first day of baseball he requested to play basketball instead. And you know that he’s really just hoping that, in a new sport, he will be automatically as skilled as he hopes and imagines himself to be. And you know that he’s disappointed that he is not.

When, on the way home, your son mentions that maybe next time he could play basketball without any of his friends being there, because having his (older) friends there makes him feel embarrassed.

When you come to watch at the end, and he sees you and tries even harder to make that basket, and he can’t. So then he pretends to be hurt so that he can be rescued from trying.

When you give him a little more grace than usual about fibbing in the car ride home, because you know that he didn't make fifteen baskets, but he earnestly wishes that he did.

When, every day that you pick him up, you see his face fall when the Camper of the Day is announced and it is not him. And even though you know that each child will get a turn, you also know that to your sensitive son, being the last one to get this recognition is brutal.

And when he is awarded Most Improved Camper on the last day, and after his name is called he disrupts the whole ceremony by running full-speed out of his line and into your arms, and your heart breaks into a million pieces that he's not at all embarrassed to show how proud he is and how much he wants you to be proud, too.

And when you realize that none of this really has anything at all to do with sports, and everything to do with the inevitable beauty and pain that is part of growing up. And that there is nothing you can do but cheer him on.

When White People Talk About Race

Kristen Howerton — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 00:15:00 -0700

Recently, I was a part of a discussion on facebook about race. (You gotta love social networking for juxtaposing people from all walks of life into 140-character-or-less philosophical arguments). This particular discussion took a turn that I often see happen when white people jump into conversations about race. A few folks implied that racism was over. References to society's Token Assimilated Black Guys were made (Colin Powell, Tiger Woods, etc). Someone suggested that seeing more interracial families would make black people seem more "normal". Awesome. And then, I made a gaffe myself by posing a question that made it sound like I was trying to get a friend to speak for the entire adult population of African Americans. It's not what I meant . . . but it sounded like it.

Why are white people so awkward when they talk about race??

Why do we seem to have serious foot-in-mouth disease on this subject? But what may be just as telling about this discussion is the fact that there were a number of people observing this interchange, with some strong feelings about this particular subject, who did not chime in. Obviously the fact that it was on Facebook might have been a hindrance, but I've long thought that white people are really, really reluctant to engage in discussions about race, and when they do, they can be really, really offensive. It's one of those taboo subjects, like religion or politics. People want to keep quiet because they don't want to ruffle feathers. Silence is the new PC.

A couple months ago, Attorney General Eric Holder gave a speech to some of his staff at an event celebrating Black History month. In it, he talked about the reticence we as a nation still have when it comes to talking about race. "Though this nation has proudly thought of itself as an ethnic melting pot, in things racial, we have always been and we -- I believe continue to be in too many ways essentially a nation of cowards." He went on to suggest that Americans are afraid to talk about race because "certain subjects are off-limits and that to explore them risks at best embarrassment and at worst the questioning of one's character." And what was America's reaction to his seemingly too-true observations about race? What happened when he made a big speech and focused in on this aspect of race relations? He set off a firestorm of angry people, appalled that he would suggest that we are all testy about the subject of race. (Um, irony?)

I'm not sure what the outrage was about, because I think it's a given that he is right and that most white people are scared to death to talk about race. We DEFINITELY don't talk about it in a racially diverse crowd. But it's kind of a taboo topic even amongst ourselves. When I talked with my son's first preschool teacher about how his experience as the only black child in the school might affect him socially, she looked like a deer in headlights for about five minutes, and then changed the subject. When I try to rally people at our church to move towards action in making our church more multicultural, I often feel like eyes are glazing over as I talk. And if I'm in a group of moms pointing out whose kids belong to whom, and I cut to the chase and describe my son as "the black child right there" or "the African-American boy", people look at me like I've just somehow insulted him by describing him in those terms. Even though everyone else is using physical descriptors, evidently we'd all be more comfortable if I beat around the bush with the most obvious one. And I certainly wouldn't strike up a conversation with another black person about my son's race

(In fact, writing this, I wonder if I should even push post. Will there be a backlash? Will someone call me out for saying Black instead of African American? Which one is right? The Black people I know say Black. Am I allowed to say it? Surely I'm pissing someone off now by even bringing it up, right?)

Honestly, I think Holder had a pretty accurate take on the "why's" of our corporate shunning of the subject. Again, he said that talking about it risks at best embarrassment, and at worst the questioning of one's character. I think this is often true. Kirstie Alley made a recent twitter about liking Black men better and it incited a serious tongue-lashing. On a recent parenting blog a mom talked about her son noticing a co-worker's race, and she got called out from all corners of the web. Now, in both these cases, there was some warranted criticism about how these women responded. However, in both cases, racism was overtly and covertly implied. And that accusation, I think, is one that most white people fear more than anything. That fear is so strong that we would rather be silent than risk being labeled with that nasty word. I mean, racist? That word is for KKK members, and deep south red-necks, and plantation owners. Right?

Well, yes and no. We can all have racist behaviors and attitudes at times. ALL. OF. US. I think we need to get over our fears of that word. We should be willing to learn when we might be biased by prejudice, or influenced by stereotypes, or insensitive to the experiences of others. Even if that puts us at risk. I think the fear of “getting it wrong” is another impediment in race talk. But again, unless we fumble a little bit, we will never move forward.

I know that another strong motivator for silence is the belief that talking about race perpetuates racism. I would really challenge this line of thinking. Racism has caused intense hurt for many people in this country. Pretending that it has not is insanely hurtful. Not educating our kids is potentially dangerous. Empathy is never an instigator for racism. Avoiding or ignoring the reality of racism perpetuates racism.

For me, I’m establishing a few groundrules for myself:

1. I’m willing to talk about race
2. I’m willing to be wrong
3. I’m willing to listen to the experiences of others
4. I’m okay with people having opinions that differ from mine
5. I’m okay with this being awkward
6. I'm okay with people wishing I would shut up about it already

(Cause I know some of you are thinking "there goes Kristen with her race talk again. . .")

Anyways, back to that facebook conversation. At the end of the day, this dialogue brought up some tension between myself and a new friend. There was misunderstanding, and some hurt on my part. But we talked about it, and (I think, I hope), came to a better understanding of each other. Because we pushed past some of our own fears, and talked about some things that would have been more comfortable to ignore, we ended up walking away with more respect for each other.

Alight, I'm ready to put myself out there. I am convinced from years of being a marital therapist that the old "stay silent where there is tension" plan is NOT a good one. So, at the risk of being embarrassed, chastised, or judged, I'm gonna try to dialogue about race issues. It's important, and if we talk about it more, it will be less awkward.

I guess what I'm saying is, when it comes to talking about race, we all need to lighten up.

Oh crap. I didn't mean "lighten up" like in the Michael Jackson way. I mean it metaphorically. I'm going to get in trouble for this, aren't I?