If I ignore the Halloween candy will it go away?

Yes, that was a rhetorical question. Son says Halloween was the best night of his life, a quick tour through the neighborhood and then back to the house for Super Smash Brothers Brawl, popcorn and lemonade (wine and Mission Impossible for the waiting parents)

PTSA meeting in two hours so I'll be brief. As the parent of a kid who suffers from allergies I'm itching, (ha ha) to read "The Itchy Kids Club: Silly Poems for Itchy Kids." This book promises to be a great way for children to learn why their bodies react in different ways to various stimuli. Reading level is kindergarten through 4th grade. If you read it before I do, share your thoughts.

Wanted to note the passing of Theodore Sizer, a huge name in education circles. He authored a number of books on best practices in education, including Horace's Compromise and Horace's Hope.

One paragraph from this obituary in the LA Times sums up Sizer's philosophy nicely: "He stood for an ideal of school as a place devoted to nurturing "habits of mind," the ability to think deeply about the subjects that matter -- such as literacy, numeracy and civic understanding -- and connect that knowledge to students' lives."

Setting down the landing gear on helicopter parenting

When my son was a baby, I was the mother who couldn't CIO. I stopped breastfeeding when I discovered sprinting from a board meeting to his daycare two blocks away four or five times a day wasn't going to work. And I was the Mama Bear who shot dagger looks at any kid in the sandbox who even pondered thoughts of aggression towards my cub.

It was inevitable that I would turn into a helicopter parent, constantly hovering to pave the way for my child. Hovering over a four year old is acceptable, but trailing an eight-year-old to see how he manages the neighborhood boys (who-just-might-be bullies) and upon seeing him exit the bathroom asking if he wiped, I'm thinking is just nuts. Yet I've done it.

The arguments are strong both for and against helicopter parenting.

The other night I attended a Love and Logic parenting seminar. The biggest take away was letting your child fail. What???? I thought my job was to raise him well enough that he didn't fail. The seminar leader was talking about small failures, missed homework assignments, forgotten lunches etc. But even those options are daunting. In this high-stakes era I'm supposed to be nonplused if my son opts not to do his homework? And no food in his stomach could mean a low-achieving school day. Yet, I get her point. Children are told there are consequences for their actions but we parents tend to protect them from any adverse ones.

But what if we didn't? The answer is life would be a lot more challenging for them. And - we hope but are often afraid to risk finding out - our children would find the resiliency that child experts say they have. It is like letting your child take off down the sidewalk on their bike sans training wheels and parental assist for the first time. Your heart is beating a drum meter of fear, but you know it has to be done.

Good teachers and the end of cursive writing

Just got in from curriculum night. Always interesting to look around the room and see the parents with Harvard and Princeton in their eyes, the parents with nothing but time and the parents who come in late and then peek under the desk to check their Blackberrys. I am at various times all of them.

My column on good teaching elicited a lot of response and broad consensus on the type of creativity and fearlessness that makes classrooms work. Read and then take a fresh look at your child's teacher. You'll either be reassured or deeply depressed.

Interesting article on a dwindling emphasis on cursive writing, thanks to widespread reliance on computer keyboards and, in a pinch, old fashioned print writing. And wade through this report and see if you're spurred to get your kid to spend more time outdoors in order to boost their academic achievement.

Wow, the look I just got when I told my son we'd have to leave soon for the classroom Open House at school. He knew school was starting soon (tomorrow) but didn't know the final days of summer freedom had dwindled into minutes.

Labor Day used to signal the end of summer and return of school but now most school districts, including my own, are starting early, some in mid-August. Something is lost in the shortening of summer's r&r.

Spent two days buying school supplies and I still didn't get everything on the list. Speaking of which, I support the move by teachers to pass on supply needs to families. Teachers shouldn't have to dig into their pockets particularly. But the lists are mind-boggling. This story adds a bit of perspective. A colleague said I would spend $200 on school supplies this year. She wasn't far off the mark.

Check up this a.m. yielded nothing exciting except I must come up with ingenius ways to inject protein in someone's diet. Meat is out. And so I just discovered at lunch, is peanut butter. Sigh. Thank goodness oatmeal raisin cookies have raisins in them.

After the Open House, it is off to get groceries to supply school lunches. Clothes are laundered and stacked, sheets are clean and all that is left is to get JP to remember where the bathtub is located. (Yes, we really slacked off this summer.)

Another Kennedy gone

A writer is nevr out of words but concerning the death of the Democratic stalwart, Sen. Edward Kennedy, I must say adieu and move on. Check out what I've said in The Seattle Times here and here.

One of my favorite columnists from the City of Brotherly Love dissects Kennedy's legacy from the prism of being black in America. Check it out here.

Another column that offers a close up lens on Kennedy's life and a second one that offers more distance but greater historical perspective.

On a different but related note, I was watching newsman Bryant Gumbel's HBO show, "Real Sports" last night and one of the segments centered on a homeless man who has succeeded in rallying kids in Compton around Little League baseball. In his own youth, this man played with athletes who went on to become legends in baseball. (If I were a sports afficianado I'd rattle off their names.) As Compton fell to drugs and crime in the 1970s and 80s, this man fell with it. Now older, wiser and singed by life's fires, he is building a legacy to live beyond him. Pro players have donated money and the national Little League organization is supportive. This man's work will survive him.

Kennedy. A homeless man in Compton. Both will be judged by their respective legacies. I'll ask you the question I posed to myself last night, what will you be judged by?

Los Angeles Schools going private?

The news that L.A. will carve out at least 250 of its schools for operation by charters and private companies is interesting on many fronts. In the long saga of trying to improve perennially struggling schools, Los Angeles Unified is clearly crying "uncle." So can smaller, less bureaucratic and non-union entities do it better? Unfortunately children will be the canaries. They'll either show improvement and educators can say the change worked or it will be another failed lab experiment.

This piece argues that charter schools are no better than the public ones. A must-see on the subject of education reform and charter schools is the PBS Newshour's multi-part look at the Washington, D.C. school system.

Ultimately, our children learn in myriad ways and its our job to find a way that works best. Could be private school, a strict religious one or a charter school with longer days and Saturday school. There should be room in the debate for all of these options. Instead, how you see it often depends on your political affiliation. If you're a Democrat you likely hate charters as a siphon on public dollars best spent on public schools. Labor unions, not just teachers unions, wield considerable clout and keep Democrats lock-step in opposition to charters. They don't like the fact that many of these charters are non-unions. So are private schools but when did we let facts get in the way.

If you're a Republican, you like charters as a step toward vouchers.
We would be appalled if our kids addressed issues in such black-and-white terms.

Does your child stutter?

Mine does but after several years of speech therapy his disfluency is under control.

Speech disorders are among the most frightening because they effect a person's ability to communicate but also how we respond to that person. Stuttering can have an impact on a child's ability to demand and receive a good education. Unfortunately, most budget-conscious school districts only offer speech therapy for severe stuttering. My son falls in the moderate range although I've been able to advocate for a 30-minute session once a week from our school.

I shudder to think of my son in a busy classroom pushed by a harried teacher to collect and articulate his thoughts quickly. I suspect he is judged, i.e. graded, in part on his communication skills, both good and bad.

Among the things I've discovered by having a child who stutters is that there is a strong genetic corrolation. I've found that there are outlets, including camps for kids with disfluency.

Everyone has a burden to bear, to help my son shoulder his I've taught him to refuse to let anyone hurry him when he is talking. I tell him to raise his voice or in other ways reject any attempt to talk over him.

I also remind him that some of the most captivating people in the world stutter, including actor James Earl Jones. Here's a list of some of them.

Good Hair: The Insanity Continues

If you haven't seen it already, watch this YouTube video and tell me if you think it is an example of self-hatred or a normal day in a black household.

Here's the take from several women on "Tell Me More" an NPR show hosted by Michel Martin. Responses to the exploration of black hair was painfully telling. In black America, hair is political and personal currency. We are obsessed by hair and what it says about us.

For some of us, our self-esteem is built on the shaky foundation of hair. Others have chosen friends and lovers based on physical characteristics that include, sometime partially, sometimes chiefly, hair. Whom among us will admit that when we envisioned having children with our loved one, among the many things we fantasized about was how our child's hair would look?

We've been bullied for things we can't change like the texture of our hair; we've done the bullying because we couldn't change the texture of our hair. One of my most salient memories growing up was spending summers with a cousin who pressed her short hair every DAY in an effort to always have it laid neatly against her scalp Twiggy-style. I eschewed the pressing comb in favor of brutal whacks of a brush and lots of hair product. We both paid a price: On even the steamiest Maryland days, neither of us went near a swimming pool.

How did we know back then what I know to be true now. Whole personalities have been assigned based on a black woman's hair. We read hairstyles like fortune tellers read tea leaves. We anticipate, predict and stereotype based on the trajectory of the strands atop the head in front of us.

Check this out from a columnist friend who penned this piece upon her return from a screening of Chris Rock's docu-flick, "Good Hair.

And here's evidence that it isn't just our hair that battles the standard of beauty. My friend, Mary Sanchez, a columnist at the Kansas City Star, received this from a public relations exec. Dear Mary: I'd love to offer you leading NY facial plastic surgeon, Dr. Sam Rizk, who has masterminded the technique behind Ethnic Cosmetic Surgery, to give a pure NATURAL looking result for African American faces."

I won't bore you with the whole thing. Dr. Rizk's flak mentions that not every nose is created or treated equal ... she includes a bit of anatomy and eugenics in explaining differences in skin and cartilage from race to race... and ends with a cheerful offer to set up an interview with Dr. Rizk and/or one of his patients.

If I attributed all of this to self hatred it would render a judgement not always deserved. Some people want a different nose, or wider eyelids or hair unnaturally straight or curly. I go through periods where I wear my hair natural and other times where I wear it chemically straightened. One of my best discoveries has been cute wigs for when I want to change my hair color or temporarily take on a funky new look. But in some cases, like the YouTube video, it is clear self-hatred is alive and well.

What makes you happy

If you blinked you missed the summer heat and now we're back to the cool, yes cold, days that mark August in the Northwest. No matter, I'm chilling in front of the fireplace watching Nigella show me the essence of Express Cooking through a Lamb with carmelized onion tangine. Doesn't take more than that for me. I just discovered this interesting read on the pursuit of happiness. I'll settle for a lifetime of contentment much like this lazy Saturday.

For proof that around the world people are engaged in the same peaceful pursuit of happiness, check out this wonderful video. Thanks Peggy!

Why Johnny still can't read.

From my colleague at the Seattle Times comes this column on what makes for a successful school. His take is based on the The Money Myth: School Resources, Outcomes, and Equity. I'll have to actually crack the cover of this book to determine whether it rises above the annual cache of books promising to transform education.

Yesterday, I spent the morning at an elementary school in an affluent Seattle neighborhood watching a teacher teach reading to third-graders. This teacher is touted as being one of the best at unlocking the doors in the brain that lead to reading fluency. The bulk of academic problems begin with trouble reading, which compounds academic problems down the road.

This class was so hard for me to watch in part because I read well and I learned to read early. I never had to go through the building blocks of reading and trying to do that now is like an architect trying to tell you how they built a building. Unless you went through every step, you don't know. One thing I learned is that the biggest predictor of reading success is having good sight memory (you see a word once and remember it from then) and having high phonemic awareness, knowing the sounds letters make.

Later in the morning I met a former architect who quit her job to volunteer full time as a reading tutor at the school. Watching her pull apart the building blocks of reading to get to the origins, the way kids learn the sound of ph or what it means when they see ck at the end of a word, gives me hope for improving America's literacy rates.

First tooth, first mugging, say what???

A paen to raising children in the city begins this way: First shave, first concert, first kiss, first smoke — they’re all teenage rites of passage, right up there with bar mitzvahs, quinceanaras and Sweet 16 parties.
But when you raise your kids in the city, there’s another to add to the list: First mugging.

Makes you want to run, not drive trailed by a moving van, to the nearest suburban enclave. But the New York Times piece has more to say.

Including these four words that made me lol, if only because last night I had the ultimate suburban experience as my son and I walked one of his friends home, shouting out the names of constellations brilliant in the midnight blue sky and taking turns watching out for coyotes: “Check yourself for ticks.”

Here's a way to enjoy Valentine's Day without the extra calories

Read Bill Buford, Notes of a Gastronome, “Extreme Chocolate,” from the October 29th, 2007 issue of The New Yorker.

I came across this while researching for a Seattle Times editorial arguing that chocolate is recession-proof. Everything you've ever wanted to know about the origin and value of chocolate is in there. Plus, Buford is a good, evocative writer.

The worst sin? Procrastination

I've always felt uneasy but okay with my tendacy to put things off since half of America is right there with me. Put off until tomorrow what you are dreading doing today seems to be our motto. A list of things I plan to do some day clutters my brain and I move things either to the forefront or the back burner, only when I cannot ignore their embarassing presence any longer.

Minutes ago, I found out someone I knew and liked, someone I thought I had all the time in the world to get to know and become friends with, has died. The first thing most of us think of when someone dies is how? We want to make sense of such a permanent occurence. When the death occurs suddenly, we are left speechless and devastated, the loss all the more acute because we had no time to prepare for it. Death hits hard whether you see it coming or not, but the unknowing, versus knowing and steeling oneself, is like a punch to the gut out of nowhere. Perhaps your hands would have flown up to protect yourself, perhaps not, but the reality is you weren't given the option of choosing.

I will pray for this person's family and remember again how there are no coincidences in life, people are placed in our paths for a reason. There is beauty and meaning in every encounter, if only we have the sense to recognize it. Her premature death also reminds me of the imperative to move through life with the understanding that it is fleeting. 

On his deathbed, Michaelangelo told his apprentice, "Draw Antonio, draw Antonio draw, and do not waste time."

Some frightening and unforgettable moments today

I started this blog really to chronicle the early years of parenting. It seemed a good way to work out on paper the giddiness and angst of navigating someone else's education and maturation. In that vein, I plan to post interesting stories, theories and trends related to children, education and parenting. Here are a couple:

A New York City painter has movingly chronicled the early years of both his sons' lives via short films. The first was done three years ago. The second appeared in the New York Times today. These are really, really sweet.

On a frightening and what-the-heck-is-wrong-with-these-parents note, this Washington Post story of a grade schooler driving the family car to school because he was so anxious to get the free breakfast. Turns out the dad had been under a court order not to leave the kids alone with mom, but Dad had to work and Mom had to get her sleep. Again I ask, what the heck is wrong with these parents?

And we have a winner - or at least someone who knows their music

My girl Sandi Larsen informs me that the hauntingly beautiful song in the movie Revolutionary Road is "Wild is the Wind" by Nina Simone. You can listen or buy it on Itunes.

Holidays are made for heavy movies

With my holiday time dwindling to mere hours, I raced to catch up on my movie watching. Went to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button yesterday and Revolutionary Road today. I came out of both carrying an extra 10 pounds of emotion. Benjamin Button is based on the F. Scott Fitzgerald short story which somehow escaped me in 11th grade American lit class. Good. 

It might have spoiled the movie for me, a three-hour cinematic tour de force that doesn't resemble the book at all. English actresses keep showing up actresses from this side of the pond and Cate Blanchett in the lede is a prime example. The movie centers on a really disturbing theme: how would our lives go if we lived them in reverse? If instead of aging, we were born physically old and emotionally young, then we grew physically young and emotionally old. If when we died we just grew smaller until we disappeared like blowing dust. See where the poundage came from? Film critic Roger Ebert argues that this premise is just plain wrong, read: distressing. I wondered how even when Pitt's character was old as Methuselah and in a shrunken, midget body, it was still Brad Pitt's dazzling face. The Boston Globe has the answer.

The trailer for Revolutionary Road is almost better than the movie and includes a few scenes that didn't make the final cut. If you've seen Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? or read the stories of the late John Cheever, you know this movie's angst or read here to get a sense. The movie's singular question is this all there is to our lives is as timeless a query as it is a painful one. Because of course, if this isn't all there is to life, what are our chances of being able to switch course? The movie asks this question and shows its beautiful, horrific answer. For those of us in real life, asking this question in the middle of a recession, record unemployment and two ongoing wars makes it a bittersweet experience, a challenge even to live out loud despite the things that confine us.

On an up note, the soundtrack is fabulous! There's a haunting song that opens the trailer and the sultry, smoky voice sounds like the late Nina Simone. I tried to do a quick search but came up empty. Anyone know or who can find out the name of the singer, please come back here and tell the rest of us.  As for me, its onward to dinner, a little housework and preparation for a busy work week ahead; all the things our lives are made of. Et tu?

Change for Generations X and Y

The annual release of crime statistics from the FBI always sets my teeth on edge. Crime is down but for young people it remains devastatingly high. For young black men, it unacceptable as I said in my Seattle Times column. 

A new president, an energized, united Congress and can-do has become our mantra. At least some of that ought to trickle down to the youngest generations, the ones most devastated by high murder rates, unemployment, evaporating student loans and substandard public schools. If I could request something of every American parent it would be to do something each day that smoothes the road a little for our kids. Not just feeding them and sending them off to school, but planning ahead - thinking of how expensive college will be, of how downsizing and outsourcing has  narrowed opportunities and changed the rules of the game. We're living them a mountain of debt and globe with wars flaring up in too many spots to count. In all good conscience, we have to help them navigate the minefields.