I took my 7 year old on a mommy-son date yesterday. He wanted to go roller skating. It was some hard work and encouragement to get him going, but the pride on his face for having figured out how to do this thing was so wonderful.
I had a blast.
I made several of my own quick turns around the rink, skating especially fast during the 80's music. I probably haven't been on roller skates in 25 years, but I've still got the magic. What a remarkable day of silly forgetting my old-lady self and remembering the girl still inside.
And not a moment's worry about which boy was holding which girl's hand. The joy of getting older!
Showing posts with label living in 1987. Show all posts
Showing posts with label living in 1987. Show all posts
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Dreaming Redux
It might have been helpful if I had first said WHY I want to start a school.
I had a great education. I think part of the reason it was so good, however, is that school was interesting to me. I took full advantage of the opportunities that were given to me. I was able to study sciences, history and literature at the highest level offered in my school. In addition I was able to do drama and debate. I participated in mock trial and learned a lot about government. I traveled with various teams and groups both to compete and to watch. I learned much about community from being part of the strong culture in our school.
I have spent many years pondering why I enjoyed school so much, but I've also realized something that every school must come to face sooner or later: my education primarily prepared me to be a successful student, and by extension, a teacher. I'm not certain that it prepared me all that well for other things. I've come to believe over the years that school should prepare students for more than just more school. It should prepare them for what the culture of their chosen fields of study will look like. In other words, they should spend less time in science reading textbooks and more time experimenting, collaborating, publishing and crunching numbers. History students should also spend less time in books (unless they are primary sources) and more time relating current events to older ones. History should have a heavy component of geography driven by cultural studies to achieve true understanding. Math needs to be studied in the context of real-world engineering problems so that students see how it is practical, useful and lucrative. You get my drift. And always, always, in every single course, students should be writing, writing, writing all the time.
We need to enculturate children to be citizens of the world and not just into school, or even just into the United States.
My other gripe with school is that it is too compartmentalized. English. History. Biology. And so on. The problem with that approach is that students miss completely the connections that make the world exciting, wonderful and functional. For example, how awesome to study evolution as a unifying theory of biology while simultaneously studying the naturalistic literature that rose out of the time, or the political and religious forces that came into play while society turned more to science than faith. How truly fantastic to overlay all of this with the era of colonialism and discuss exactly what was going on in the western psyche that made this colonialism okay. Did increasing secularism make this better or worse? Are we so different now? Is the US ideal of democratic governments in the middle east just another way to gain resources we don't have? To spread Christianity? Is it different?
I want students to leave school learning to ask questions, not just to answer them. And I want them to know how to search and search until they find answers, or at least better questions. I want them to know how to think critically and engineer solutions to complex problems. I want them to be able to speak in front of a group, write a paper that is truly professional in whatever subject is given them, to present their findings and hold a smart discussion, to write a resume any young person would be proud to hand off.
Schools need to be structured in ways that tailor a child's education to their needs: Smaller schools. Technology. Teachers more often as tutors instead of "sages on the stage." A cohort of student-colleagues and teachers. A cohesive framework in which to work. Teachers paid like professionals who are paid full time to work full time.
Stay tuned . . .
I had a great education. I think part of the reason it was so good, however, is that school was interesting to me. I took full advantage of the opportunities that were given to me. I was able to study sciences, history and literature at the highest level offered in my school. In addition I was able to do drama and debate. I participated in mock trial and learned a lot about government. I traveled with various teams and groups both to compete and to watch. I learned much about community from being part of the strong culture in our school.
I have spent many years pondering why I enjoyed school so much, but I've also realized something that every school must come to face sooner or later: my education primarily prepared me to be a successful student, and by extension, a teacher. I'm not certain that it prepared me all that well for other things. I've come to believe over the years that school should prepare students for more than just more school. It should prepare them for what the culture of their chosen fields of study will look like. In other words, they should spend less time in science reading textbooks and more time experimenting, collaborating, publishing and crunching numbers. History students should also spend less time in books (unless they are primary sources) and more time relating current events to older ones. History should have a heavy component of geography driven by cultural studies to achieve true understanding. Math needs to be studied in the context of real-world engineering problems so that students see how it is practical, useful and lucrative. You get my drift. And always, always, in every single course, students should be writing, writing, writing all the time.
We need to enculturate children to be citizens of the world and not just into school, or even just into the United States.
My other gripe with school is that it is too compartmentalized. English. History. Biology. And so on. The problem with that approach is that students miss completely the connections that make the world exciting, wonderful and functional. For example, how awesome to study evolution as a unifying theory of biology while simultaneously studying the naturalistic literature that rose out of the time, or the political and religious forces that came into play while society turned more to science than faith. How truly fantastic to overlay all of this with the era of colonialism and discuss exactly what was going on in the western psyche that made this colonialism okay. Did increasing secularism make this better or worse? Are we so different now? Is the US ideal of democratic governments in the middle east just another way to gain resources we don't have? To spread Christianity? Is it different?
I want students to leave school learning to ask questions, not just to answer them. And I want them to know how to search and search until they find answers, or at least better questions. I want them to know how to think critically and engineer solutions to complex problems. I want them to be able to speak in front of a group, write a paper that is truly professional in whatever subject is given them, to present their findings and hold a smart discussion, to write a resume any young person would be proud to hand off.
Schools need to be structured in ways that tailor a child's education to their needs: Smaller schools. Technology. Teachers more often as tutors instead of "sages on the stage." A cohort of student-colleagues and teachers. A cohesive framework in which to work. Teachers paid like professionals who are paid full time to work full time.
Stay tuned . . .
Sunday, February 19, 2012
The Greatest Love of All
If you were in middle or high school in the late 1980's like I was, this album might look familiar to you. We didn't have very many tapes that were the sole province of the children in my family, but this was one. My sister and I used to plug our old boom box into an outdoor outlet on our deck. We would turn the volume all the way up, stand on the opposite side of the yard on an A-frame swingset and play "rock concert." We would fight over who stood on the platform singing, and who had to watch. We weren't very good, and our repertoire wasn't very large, but Ms. Houston was a staple. There is nothing that unleashes your inner diva like singing at the top of your lungs with Whitney Houston (Somewhere, Out There was another favorite!) Perhaps like you, this remarkable and tragic woman has been on my mind somewhat this week. Though, it is probably true that she has been less on my mind than a track from this album. A song titled, "The Greatest Love of All."
Here is the other thing about growing up in the 1980s: the concept of "self-esteem" became an essential part of the post-baby-boom Generation X. It is a thing that has not always served us well as adults, this constant validation as children for simply breathing. Whitney's song teaches us that "learning to love yourself, it is the greatest love of all." Hearing that angel-voice through the radio telling me that children were the future and admonishing my parents to teach me well, and let me lead the way, did a lot for my budding self-esteem.
It is too bad that Ms. Houston maybe never understood her own advice, that her addictions kept her from the self-actualization she tried to bring a generation of children. My generation.
For all that I love that song and that voice and could probably still sing it word for word if I heard it on the radio, I don't actually agree with her. I don't think that self-love is the greatest love. And while it is important, I believe it cannot really be obtained unless we focus on other kinds of love. God-love. Family-love. Other-love. *gulp* Enemy-love. Then, you can, as Whitney Houston reminds us, "find your strength in love."
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Cause I'm a WOMAN!
Let's see how well you remember this old commercial:
I can bring home the bacon . . . .
Fry it up in a pan . . . .
And now the last part?
And never let you forget you're a man
'Cause I'm a WO-man!
I wanted to start with this retrospective today because of a provocative article my brother sent me late last week. With my return to school this month, the article, a New York Times OpEd titled, "Don't Quit This Day Job" has caused me to stop and think about a lot of things.
But let's analyze the commercial first. If you are somewhere near my age, even if you had very limited access to television like we did, then you probably knew not only the lyrics, but the brassy, bluesy music that goes with it. These simple lyrics are the ultimate woman-message of the 80's. Our moms, the first generation of mainstream feminists, were home (often part-time) with young kids.
"I can bring home the bacon . . . " Implies that women, now working, could do just as good a job at providing for their families as their husbands.
"And fry it up in a pan . . ." Woman can also still be good at all those domestic tasks that are traditionally hers. Our mothers, who largely bought into feminism without even realizing it, (and were beneficiaries in many ways whether they supported it or not) really had a raw deal. They believed in equality a generation ahead of the men. My mother, who worked anywhere from 8 to 40 hours throughout all my growing up years, also worked full-time at home. I've never seen my dad iron or vacuum or change a diaper or dust or mend or start a load of laundry. The extent of his domestic ability is to grill and make pancakes on Saturday morning.
Now, before going to the next part, who remembers what this commercial was actually about? That's right. PERFUME. A now-defunct brand called "Enjoli."
The last couplet implies that not only can woman be the breadwinner and run the household, but she can be ready for an intense sexual experience at any given time. The question she puts to her man is, "Are YOU ready?" (Stupid question, really.) I also think it is funny how she must remind him that he is a man: I guess because modern woman does everything the emasculated modern man needs more reassurance.
My brother, the doctor, forwarded the above-referenced OpEd to me from another doctor--male--who was quick to point out that "he was not in agreement with the article." I suppose that a sensitive, new-age guy (SNAG) must say such a thing. But I am under no such constraints and may say whatever I like to the three or four of you still following Science Teacher Mommy. I am LARGELY in agreement with the sentiments expressed by Dr. Sibert in her OpEd.
For those of you that didn't link to the article I will summarize. Dr. Sibert expresses deep frustration at the vast numbers of women who go into medicine without the intention of practicing full time. She sees a disturbing trend as more and more medical schools are giving spots to individuals who intend to pursue medicine as a part-time career, citing that 48% of all medical school diplomas last year were given to women. She is frustrated by current attitudes that view doctor-ing as a great part-time option for women.
Wait . . . wait. . . haven't I been a part time worker for many years? Putting my teaching on hold for a family?
In a word, yes.
But we aren't talking about teaching, we are talking about medicine. And the good doctor points out that there are other considerations here. Medical school tuition is astronomical, but it still doesn't cover the costs of operating a medical school. The federal government subsidizes them. (In other words, you and I do. Sort of--45% of Americans don't actually pay federal taxes, but that is another discussion for another time.) Even more heavily subsidized are residency programs, with resident salaries coming almost entirely from the Medicaid budget. Dr. Sibert is angry with young doctors who don't recognize the investment poured into them, and maintains that doctors who don't practice full time are not as effective (they don't have as much practice) for their patients. Patients who are the very public who subsidized their education, and now hold all the promissory notes on their student loans too.
She is taking a bold stand by saying, "Newsflash: women CANNOT have it all!" And I agree. The notion that we can be all things to every person and still gain broad personal satisfaction is the biggest fallacy to come out of the Women's Movement of the 1960's and 1970's. I know, I've said it before, but we are at something like 425 posts here, and some things bear repeating.
When it comes to medicine, Dr. Sibert maintains, personal decisions (like the fact that 40% of female doctors in their childbearing years only work part time) have huge consequences for the public. Within just 15 years, this country will be short 150,000 doctors, especially General Practice doctors (the area where more of the residents are women). The Health Care legislation insures more people, and our population is aging. There is a terrible bottleneck in doctor training, with many times more people turned away then actually get into school. And when it comes to women in these professions, they are increasingly choosing them because of the options for part time work.
In addition, funding is becoming increasingly tight for residencies as the government cuts more and more from those areas in an attempt to balance the budget. What a kick in the pants to get through medical school only to learn there is no way for you to actually get the hands-on training needed to become a full doctor . . . perhaps it is a bigger kick in the pants to realize that you didn't get a spot ahead of a woman with excellent test scores whose ambition is to primarily be a stay at home mom.
Now, obviously, my brother's area of concern is the best medical care to the most patients, and his interest in this article is of that nature. I think there are things that could be done: states with a terrible mortality rate (relative) and a lack of doctors where they need to be, could subsidize tuition or even forgive student loans in exchange for a certain number of full-time years as a GP in rural and minority communities or in clinics that service areas with terrible poverty. I think you'd see a lot of people take advantage of that. Dr. Sibert offers few suggestions, though her tone implies that she would not like to see spots given at all without firm commitments about the work people will put back into the system that demands a lot but also gives a lot. She is right on the money in trying to address this difficult issue, and suggests that young female doctor-candidates need to be spoken to more candidly about the detriments of part time work.
For me, however, the article raises broader questions that can be applied to women everywhere, and maybe most particularly to LDS women who feel intense pressure to stay home (and whose husbands feel intense pressure to keep them there), but also near-constant encouragement to get all the education they can and excel at all they do. The feminist movement has finally produced the generation of young women it intended to--women with liberal ideas toward sex, who don't necessarily associate childbearing with sexual experience; women who believe that any career is open to them; women who see having children and/or marriage as one path in many toward self-actualization; women who are ambitious and driven and don't give a fig if they out-compete the men.
But I feel deeply conflicted about it. When Plantboy graduated from his master's program, nearly HALF of the graduates at the campus-wide commencement that day were in the college of education. As secondary teachers actually graduate from the college that was their major focus, this means that all of those COE graduates were either elementary teachers or psychology majors. Most of them were women. The rest of that half was rounded out by those in the college of Family Life--including interior design, social work and family human development. Again, nearly all women. I would have been fascinated, on that campus of mostly LDS people, to learn how many of those women ever worked. Ever intended to work.
Granted, their college experience was still valuable to them and their families, but it was a public college, heavily subsidized by taxpayers. In addition, most students attend college on some mixture of scholarships, grants and loans--all backed by common funds. Governments INVEST in education in the hopes of getting some kind of broad return on society.
Please don't misunderstand. I primarily identify myself as a stay at home mom, and I have done so for the last ten years. I believe that in most circumstances, kids get a better start in life if they have their mothers home with them during the first few years. I think if people are going to have children then they should also make the commitment to raise them.
But I also think that the Women's Movement not only deluded us into thinking that we could have it all, but that we were somehow lesser women if we didn't. So we are a generation of guilt-ridden women, unsure where we belong. We sacrifice career for family, but when the career calls we sacrifice family for that. Years of self-sacrifice can leave us worn down and bitter if we aren't careful.
I feel like every year in my life I have had to re-negotiate the balance between my own wishes and the wishes of the four men who depend on me for nearly everything. I try to be prayerful. I try to listen to the Holy Ghost. And then I act and try not to look back. I try not to feel deeply sad as the novel is shelved for who knows how long because I ran out of time to reach my own deadline. I try to get enthusiastic about another game of Apples to Apples Junior. I try to remember that doing the laundry is my version of clothing the naked, that making dinner is how I feed the hungry. I try to be cheerful about the three a.m. daily alarm knowing that the paper route is a means to an end. I try not to think about how I will possibly balance school, and eventually a full time job with a busy, needy family. I try not to be envious when my husband receives accolades at work. I try to desire motherhood above everything else even when it feels foreign to my nature. I try not to resent that I put my husband through school twice, but that this time around I must largely put myself through.
That last paragraph is pretty raw and honest . . . maybe nobody made it quite this far. But if you did, then maybe you or someone you love feels as conflicted as I do sometimes. People will often remark on how confident I am, and I feel like kind of a poser. Sometimes that outward display of confidence is the way I blow smoke over all the conflicting forces inside of me. Maybe this is the true essence of modern woman. Bottle that, Enjoli.
I can bring home the bacon . . . .
Fry it up in a pan . . . .
And now the last part?
And never let you forget you're a man
'Cause I'm a WO-man!
I wanted to start with this retrospective today because of a provocative article my brother sent me late last week. With my return to school this month, the article, a New York Times OpEd titled, "Don't Quit This Day Job" has caused me to stop and think about a lot of things.
But let's analyze the commercial first. If you are somewhere near my age, even if you had very limited access to television like we did, then you probably knew not only the lyrics, but the brassy, bluesy music that goes with it. These simple lyrics are the ultimate woman-message of the 80's. Our moms, the first generation of mainstream feminists, were home (often part-time) with young kids.
"I can bring home the bacon . . . " Implies that women, now working, could do just as good a job at providing for their families as their husbands.
"And fry it up in a pan . . ." Woman can also still be good at all those domestic tasks that are traditionally hers. Our mothers, who largely bought into feminism without even realizing it, (and were beneficiaries in many ways whether they supported it or not) really had a raw deal. They believed in equality a generation ahead of the men. My mother, who worked anywhere from 8 to 40 hours throughout all my growing up years, also worked full-time at home. I've never seen my dad iron or vacuum or change a diaper or dust or mend or start a load of laundry. The extent of his domestic ability is to grill and make pancakes on Saturday morning.
Now, before going to the next part, who remembers what this commercial was actually about? That's right. PERFUME. A now-defunct brand called "Enjoli."
The last couplet implies that not only can woman be the breadwinner and run the household, but she can be ready for an intense sexual experience at any given time. The question she puts to her man is, "Are YOU ready?" (Stupid question, really.) I also think it is funny how she must remind him that he is a man: I guess because modern woman does everything the emasculated modern man needs more reassurance.
My brother, the doctor, forwarded the above-referenced OpEd to me from another doctor--male--who was quick to point out that "he was not in agreement with the article." I suppose that a sensitive, new-age guy (SNAG) must say such a thing. But I am under no such constraints and may say whatever I like to the three or four of you still following Science Teacher Mommy. I am LARGELY in agreement with the sentiments expressed by Dr. Sibert in her OpEd.
For those of you that didn't link to the article I will summarize. Dr. Sibert expresses deep frustration at the vast numbers of women who go into medicine without the intention of practicing full time. She sees a disturbing trend as more and more medical schools are giving spots to individuals who intend to pursue medicine as a part-time career, citing that 48% of all medical school diplomas last year were given to women. She is frustrated by current attitudes that view doctor-ing as a great part-time option for women.
Wait . . . wait. . . haven't I been a part time worker for many years? Putting my teaching on hold for a family?
In a word, yes.
But we aren't talking about teaching, we are talking about medicine. And the good doctor points out that there are other considerations here. Medical school tuition is astronomical, but it still doesn't cover the costs of operating a medical school. The federal government subsidizes them. (In other words, you and I do. Sort of--45% of Americans don't actually pay federal taxes, but that is another discussion for another time.) Even more heavily subsidized are residency programs, with resident salaries coming almost entirely from the Medicaid budget. Dr. Sibert is angry with young doctors who don't recognize the investment poured into them, and maintains that doctors who don't practice full time are not as effective (they don't have as much practice) for their patients. Patients who are the very public who subsidized their education, and now hold all the promissory notes on their student loans too.
She is taking a bold stand by saying, "Newsflash: women CANNOT have it all!" And I agree. The notion that we can be all things to every person and still gain broad personal satisfaction is the biggest fallacy to come out of the Women's Movement of the 1960's and 1970's. I know, I've said it before, but we are at something like 425 posts here, and some things bear repeating.
When it comes to medicine, Dr. Sibert maintains, personal decisions (like the fact that 40% of female doctors in their childbearing years only work part time) have huge consequences for the public. Within just 15 years, this country will be short 150,000 doctors, especially General Practice doctors (the area where more of the residents are women). The Health Care legislation insures more people, and our population is aging. There is a terrible bottleneck in doctor training, with many times more people turned away then actually get into school. And when it comes to women in these professions, they are increasingly choosing them because of the options for part time work.
In addition, funding is becoming increasingly tight for residencies as the government cuts more and more from those areas in an attempt to balance the budget. What a kick in the pants to get through medical school only to learn there is no way for you to actually get the hands-on training needed to become a full doctor . . . perhaps it is a bigger kick in the pants to realize that you didn't get a spot ahead of a woman with excellent test scores whose ambition is to primarily be a stay at home mom.
Now, obviously, my brother's area of concern is the best medical care to the most patients, and his interest in this article is of that nature. I think there are things that could be done: states with a terrible mortality rate (relative) and a lack of doctors where they need to be, could subsidize tuition or even forgive student loans in exchange for a certain number of full-time years as a GP in rural and minority communities or in clinics that service areas with terrible poverty. I think you'd see a lot of people take advantage of that. Dr. Sibert offers few suggestions, though her tone implies that she would not like to see spots given at all without firm commitments about the work people will put back into the system that demands a lot but also gives a lot. She is right on the money in trying to address this difficult issue, and suggests that young female doctor-candidates need to be spoken to more candidly about the detriments of part time work.
For me, however, the article raises broader questions that can be applied to women everywhere, and maybe most particularly to LDS women who feel intense pressure to stay home (and whose husbands feel intense pressure to keep them there), but also near-constant encouragement to get all the education they can and excel at all they do. The feminist movement has finally produced the generation of young women it intended to--women with liberal ideas toward sex, who don't necessarily associate childbearing with sexual experience; women who believe that any career is open to them; women who see having children and/or marriage as one path in many toward self-actualization; women who are ambitious and driven and don't give a fig if they out-compete the men.
But I feel deeply conflicted about it. When Plantboy graduated from his master's program, nearly HALF of the graduates at the campus-wide commencement that day were in the college of education. As secondary teachers actually graduate from the college that was their major focus, this means that all of those COE graduates were either elementary teachers or psychology majors. Most of them were women. The rest of that half was rounded out by those in the college of Family Life--including interior design, social work and family human development. Again, nearly all women. I would have been fascinated, on that campus of mostly LDS people, to learn how many of those women ever worked. Ever intended to work.
Granted, their college experience was still valuable to them and their families, but it was a public college, heavily subsidized by taxpayers. In addition, most students attend college on some mixture of scholarships, grants and loans--all backed by common funds. Governments INVEST in education in the hopes of getting some kind of broad return on society.
Please don't misunderstand. I primarily identify myself as a stay at home mom, and I have done so for the last ten years. I believe that in most circumstances, kids get a better start in life if they have their mothers home with them during the first few years. I think if people are going to have children then they should also make the commitment to raise them.
But I also think that the Women's Movement not only deluded us into thinking that we could have it all, but that we were somehow lesser women if we didn't. So we are a generation of guilt-ridden women, unsure where we belong. We sacrifice career for family, but when the career calls we sacrifice family for that. Years of self-sacrifice can leave us worn down and bitter if we aren't careful.
I feel like every year in my life I have had to re-negotiate the balance between my own wishes and the wishes of the four men who depend on me for nearly everything. I try to be prayerful. I try to listen to the Holy Ghost. And then I act and try not to look back. I try not to feel deeply sad as the novel is shelved for who knows how long because I ran out of time to reach my own deadline. I try to get enthusiastic about another game of Apples to Apples Junior. I try to remember that doing the laundry is my version of clothing the naked, that making dinner is how I feed the hungry. I try to be cheerful about the three a.m. daily alarm knowing that the paper route is a means to an end. I try not to think about how I will possibly balance school, and eventually a full time job with a busy, needy family. I try not to be envious when my husband receives accolades at work. I try to desire motherhood above everything else even when it feels foreign to my nature. I try not to resent that I put my husband through school twice, but that this time around I must largely put myself through.
That last paragraph is pretty raw and honest . . . maybe nobody made it quite this far. But if you did, then maybe you or someone you love feels as conflicted as I do sometimes. People will often remark on how confident I am, and I feel like kind of a poser. Sometimes that outward display of confidence is the way I blow smoke over all the conflicting forces inside of me. Maybe this is the true essence of modern woman. Bottle that, Enjoli.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Looking Forward to the Next Parenting Crisis
Alternately Titled: What I Would Do With the $100 Million Jackpot
Jedi Knight has been taking karate since September. I chose this particular dojo, out of several choices, because its flexibility is awesome. He can go any day of the week because the general beginners' class is offered at the same time each day. He can go four times monthly, and if I up my monthly payment, he could go as often as he wanted. It has been good for him. He has learned some discipline and focus. He is getting better all the time. Some of the instructors I like better than others, though admittedly I don't get to stay and watch him as often as I like, so I'm not always sure how his classes go down.
What I had not counted on was the karate being quite as . . . well. . . self-important as the folks running the dojo make it seem. I appreciate that it is serious to them. That it is not a game or a costume party. But what I'm not crazy about is the secretary who makes me feel like a pariah when I ask questions about the way things work regarding advancement, etc. I sometimes feel like every other parent in the place kind of gets what is going on and I don't. My questions are often met with a combination of incredulity-condescension-and "well, duh!" I'm still trying to get a read on the place because JK likes it. Quite a lot.
A bit more background and then we'll address my current situation at karate. I am a hyper-modest girl. I'm not sure how this happened. My mom didn't necessarily really push this, although there was a pretty strong level of embarrassment regarding anything related to body stuff. For whatever reason, I entered puberty very reluctantly and slowly. I was angry when my friends threw over books, Barbies and school for boys, clothes and hair. By age 10 I was practically barricading myself in the bathroom when it came time for bathing or showering. If I took too long, somebody would always bang on the door threatening to use the butter knife to break in if I didn't hurry. Bra-shopping (at least six months too late) and menarche (at least a year too early) were nightmares of mortification, in which I never wanted to look my mother in the eye again.
Enter seventh grade gym class.
Until we toured the school, it had never occurred to me that we might be required to shower in a group. I was shocked and horrified. My public pool experience was pretty limited and the before pool showering we did was always in the little outside showers. Which word is stronger than mortification? Like you probably did, I learned to change my clothes without ever actually taking my other clothes off. I learned to shower wearing underwear and just wrapping myself in a towel. My feet were always very clean. . . .
I observed a couple of things. First of all, the only girls comfortable wandering the locker room in bra and panties were the cute/popular/boyfriended girls. I was not one of these. Unfortunately, most of my friends were, and it is safe to say that the girls in my locker aisle (which we could choose) were probably the most with-it group of our class start to finish. It is a group I somehow always managed to be on the fringe of and would end up rooming with at college some years later. Some of these women are still my close friends and I love them dearly, though I'm never really quite sure how they were my group to begin with. (Oh, man, this is a whole new set of hang-ups today. I need a new label called "Living in 1987.")
Ah hem. Back to the topic. My second observation from my locker room days is that the only girls comfortable showering uninhibited in front of everyone were the girls who already carried very bad reputations before we turned 13. I still remember this one girl . . . .
Okay, let's not go there.
Our gym teacher complained that somebody stunk. I thought it was a stupid accusation: I didn't smell anyone, and none of us were working hard enough to actually sweat. Still, she stood with the clipboard to watch each of us shower. For a grade. She later uncloseted as a lesbian.
Really.
College was awkward with the same pretty friends and their low inhibitions. Why is it easier to put on makeup in just a bra then it is just to put on a shirt, for crying out loud?? Now I live with four men, but my modesty principles have not loosened up much. Even when my kids were babies I didn't let them in the shower, or even the bathroom with me. I would lock them into the bouncy seat just outside the door and jealously guard my private time. My modesty. When my midwife and I went over the birth plan for my first baby, I mentioned my modesty hang ups and, bless dear Happy Barnes (my midwife's actual name), she was so careful while I labored. At the public pool we regularly attend now I always use the family restroom, even when I only have my three year-old with me. The sight of women changing in front of one another and their daughters and their young sons is really pretty horrible to me. Nursing was perpetually awkward for me and I was never really comfortable doing so in front of other people.
Out in public we cover, cover, cover. Why is it that the moment we step into a changing room it is okay to . . . . and I don't think I'll ever quite get over going to early morning water aerobics with my 70ish grandmother and her friends. I wish I had gone out into the 20 degree morning in my damp hair and clothes rather than be haunted by the elephantine memories of that public dressing room experience.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying this is necessarily right or normal and certainly not any kind of an LDS requirement for virtuous living. It is just me.
And because parents do, I have transmitted some of this to my kids. Jedi Knight showers with the door shut and often locked. He is bothered when people enter his room while he is changing. I have urged bathroom privacy for each child. We have decided to be a non-sleepover family and have spoken with all the kids at length about when and for whom it is appropriate to change your clothing.
Back to karate. When we started karate in the summer, they were meeting in a small and temporary dojo while construction was completed on another. Each child wore their "gi" (the white outfit) to karate. We were careful with it--ONLY to and from karate and kept clean and folded. In mid-October, the new dojo opened and we began going there. I noticed that a lot of kids in the class after JK changed at karate. Maybe even a majority. There is some kind of a group changing area with lockers in one area. Because the next class is comprised of teenagers and adults, I assumed they changed at the dojo because they came from school or work and it was convenient.
Not necessarily so, as I was firmly told on Monday. You see, everyone at the dojo is required to wear street clothes, and change there. Everyone. I was told that there are some lingering kids still making the mistake of changing at home because they allowed it over the summer. Not only is JK my modesty-boy, but he is also very resistant to change. I could see him shutting down as strict-secretary-girl was laying down the law. She explained her reasoning--the Gi is not a costume, they stay cleaner, the kids take greater responsibility, etc. etc. She confirmed that even the four and five year olds at his class are changing their clothes, in the group room, prior to class.
I explained to her that he and I had spoken a lot about modesty and that he had been instructed never to change clothes in front of other people. That it was a thing our family valued. She emphasized that she monitored the room carefully while kids were in there and listened for any talk that wasn't related to changing, and that it was a RULE for crying out loud. Seeing my discomfort, the dojo owner remarked that it would be appropriate for him to change in one of the stalls in the men's bathroom. I conceded that this would work.
Now if I can just convince Jedi "I'm-not-really-comfortable-with-this" Knight that he can go for the compromise.
On my way home from the encounter, all of my horrible junior high PE emotions came back to me. I went to college the year of the huge Skyview High scandal that brought hazing in high school sports into the national spotlight and began a discussion about where does "boys will be boys" cross the line into brutalizing sexual harassment. In a classic case of blame the victim, the young man was told that unless he apologized to the team for having sought police involvement in the case, then he was off the team. The perpetrators didn't even get a slap on the wrist.
Recent studies and practices at some high performing middle schools demonstrate that doing PE in the morning (actual PE, not avoid-the-dodge-ball-and-gossip-for-25-minutes) increases academic performance. I'm a believer in this. The dream school I design in my head all of the time is a 6-12. PE and Health would be a major part of the required curriculum. Every year. Equipment. Classes. Martial Arts. Nutrition. Disease. etc. . . . but if something couldn't be done about completely re-envisioning locker rooms, I could never really get behind it. Individual showers. Stalled changing rooms. Gym teachers with more important tasks to fill their time than watching young kids shower to earn points.
We may have averted the karate crisis. I think by the time our next lesson rolls around I will have him talked into a compromise that works for the dojo and for our family.
But what will I do in middle school? When my quirky, smart, small boys who haven't been weaned onto a diet of team sports are confronted with a locker room dilemma which I find pretty offensive? A place that, almost by design, strives to separate the kids into a social stratification that persists for years and erodes self-esteem. Kids can be so cruel, and I've been around teenage kids more than a little bit. I know the kind on which some of them prey. They are the little men I love more than I love my own life. The system, as it stands, forces kids to be at their most vulnerable around one another just when they are getting smart enough to learn exactly whom they should never "strip" in front of.
Oh! I know we can't take away their hurts, but I don't want to throw them to the lions' den either!
Jedi Knight has been taking karate since September. I chose this particular dojo, out of several choices, because its flexibility is awesome. He can go any day of the week because the general beginners' class is offered at the same time each day. He can go four times monthly, and if I up my monthly payment, he could go as often as he wanted. It has been good for him. He has learned some discipline and focus. He is getting better all the time. Some of the instructors I like better than others, though admittedly I don't get to stay and watch him as often as I like, so I'm not always sure how his classes go down.
What I had not counted on was the karate being quite as . . . well. . . self-important as the folks running the dojo make it seem. I appreciate that it is serious to them. That it is not a game or a costume party. But what I'm not crazy about is the secretary who makes me feel like a pariah when I ask questions about the way things work regarding advancement, etc. I sometimes feel like every other parent in the place kind of gets what is going on and I don't. My questions are often met with a combination of incredulity-condescension-and "well, duh!" I'm still trying to get a read on the place because JK likes it. Quite a lot.
A bit more background and then we'll address my current situation at karate. I am a hyper-modest girl. I'm not sure how this happened. My mom didn't necessarily really push this, although there was a pretty strong level of embarrassment regarding anything related to body stuff. For whatever reason, I entered puberty very reluctantly and slowly. I was angry when my friends threw over books, Barbies and school for boys, clothes and hair. By age 10 I was practically barricading myself in the bathroom when it came time for bathing or showering. If I took too long, somebody would always bang on the door threatening to use the butter knife to break in if I didn't hurry. Bra-shopping (at least six months too late) and menarche (at least a year too early) were nightmares of mortification, in which I never wanted to look my mother in the eye again.
Enter seventh grade gym class.
Until we toured the school, it had never occurred to me that we might be required to shower in a group. I was shocked and horrified. My public pool experience was pretty limited and the before pool showering we did was always in the little outside showers. Which word is stronger than mortification? Like you probably did, I learned to change my clothes without ever actually taking my other clothes off. I learned to shower wearing underwear and just wrapping myself in a towel. My feet were always very clean. . . .
I observed a couple of things. First of all, the only girls comfortable wandering the locker room in bra and panties were the cute/popular/boyfriended girls. I was not one of these. Unfortunately, most of my friends were, and it is safe to say that the girls in my locker aisle (which we could choose) were probably the most with-it group of our class start to finish. It is a group I somehow always managed to be on the fringe of and would end up rooming with at college some years later. Some of these women are still my close friends and I love them dearly, though I'm never really quite sure how they were my group to begin with. (Oh, man, this is a whole new set of hang-ups today. I need a new label called "Living in 1987.")
Ah hem. Back to the topic. My second observation from my locker room days is that the only girls comfortable showering uninhibited in front of everyone were the girls who already carried very bad reputations before we turned 13. I still remember this one girl . . . .
Okay, let's not go there.
Our gym teacher complained that somebody stunk. I thought it was a stupid accusation: I didn't smell anyone, and none of us were working hard enough to actually sweat. Still, she stood with the clipboard to watch each of us shower. For a grade. She later uncloseted as a lesbian.
Really.
College was awkward with the same pretty friends and their low inhibitions. Why is it easier to put on makeup in just a bra then it is just to put on a shirt, for crying out loud?? Now I live with four men, but my modesty principles have not loosened up much. Even when my kids were babies I didn't let them in the shower, or even the bathroom with me. I would lock them into the bouncy seat just outside the door and jealously guard my private time. My modesty. When my midwife and I went over the birth plan for my first baby, I mentioned my modesty hang ups and, bless dear Happy Barnes (my midwife's actual name), she was so careful while I labored. At the public pool we regularly attend now I always use the family restroom, even when I only have my three year-old with me. The sight of women changing in front of one another and their daughters and their young sons is really pretty horrible to me. Nursing was perpetually awkward for me and I was never really comfortable doing so in front of other people.
Out in public we cover, cover, cover. Why is it that the moment we step into a changing room it is okay to . . . . and I don't think I'll ever quite get over going to early morning water aerobics with my 70ish grandmother and her friends. I wish I had gone out into the 20 degree morning in my damp hair and clothes rather than be haunted by the elephantine memories of that public dressing room experience.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying this is necessarily right or normal and certainly not any kind of an LDS requirement for virtuous living. It is just me.
And because parents do, I have transmitted some of this to my kids. Jedi Knight showers with the door shut and often locked. He is bothered when people enter his room while he is changing. I have urged bathroom privacy for each child. We have decided to be a non-sleepover family and have spoken with all the kids at length about when and for whom it is appropriate to change your clothing.
Back to karate. When we started karate in the summer, they were meeting in a small and temporary dojo while construction was completed on another. Each child wore their "gi" (the white outfit) to karate. We were careful with it--ONLY to and from karate and kept clean and folded. In mid-October, the new dojo opened and we began going there. I noticed that a lot of kids in the class after JK changed at karate. Maybe even a majority. There is some kind of a group changing area with lockers in one area. Because the next class is comprised of teenagers and adults, I assumed they changed at the dojo because they came from school or work and it was convenient.
Not necessarily so, as I was firmly told on Monday. You see, everyone at the dojo is required to wear street clothes, and change there. Everyone. I was told that there are some lingering kids still making the mistake of changing at home because they allowed it over the summer. Not only is JK my modesty-boy, but he is also very resistant to change. I could see him shutting down as strict-secretary-girl was laying down the law. She explained her reasoning--the Gi is not a costume, they stay cleaner, the kids take greater responsibility, etc. etc. She confirmed that even the four and five year olds at his class are changing their clothes, in the group room, prior to class.
I explained to her that he and I had spoken a lot about modesty and that he had been instructed never to change clothes in front of other people. That it was a thing our family valued. She emphasized that she monitored the room carefully while kids were in there and listened for any talk that wasn't related to changing, and that it was a RULE for crying out loud. Seeing my discomfort, the dojo owner remarked that it would be appropriate for him to change in one of the stalls in the men's bathroom. I conceded that this would work.
Now if I can just convince Jedi "I'm-not-really-comfortable-with-this" Knight that he can go for the compromise.
On my way home from the encounter, all of my horrible junior high PE emotions came back to me. I went to college the year of the huge Skyview High scandal that brought hazing in high school sports into the national spotlight and began a discussion about where does "boys will be boys" cross the line into brutalizing sexual harassment. In a classic case of blame the victim, the young man was told that unless he apologized to the team for having sought police involvement in the case, then he was off the team. The perpetrators didn't even get a slap on the wrist.
Recent studies and practices at some high performing middle schools demonstrate that doing PE in the morning (actual PE, not avoid-the-dodge-ball-and-gossip-for-25-minutes) increases academic performance. I'm a believer in this. The dream school I design in my head all of the time is a 6-12. PE and Health would be a major part of the required curriculum. Every year. Equipment. Classes. Martial Arts. Nutrition. Disease. etc. . . . but if something couldn't be done about completely re-envisioning locker rooms, I could never really get behind it. Individual showers. Stalled changing rooms. Gym teachers with more important tasks to fill their time than watching young kids shower to earn points.
We may have averted the karate crisis. I think by the time our next lesson rolls around I will have him talked into a compromise that works for the dojo and for our family.
But what will I do in middle school? When my quirky, smart, small boys who haven't been weaned onto a diet of team sports are confronted with a locker room dilemma which I find pretty offensive? A place that, almost by design, strives to separate the kids into a social stratification that persists for years and erodes self-esteem. Kids can be so cruel, and I've been around teenage kids more than a little bit. I know the kind on which some of them prey. They are the little men I love more than I love my own life. The system, as it stands, forces kids to be at their most vulnerable around one another just when they are getting smart enough to learn exactly whom they should never "strip" in front of.
Oh! I know we can't take away their hurts, but I don't want to throw them to the lions' den either!
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