Seventeen Is Going To Kick My Butt And I'm Totally Fine With That

I've been the mother of a seventeen-year old for an entire week. It's exhausting. I'm going to need a lot of naps.





I kid. Kind of. I mean, we had her home on her birthday a week ago, only because we had a late winter storm that cancelled everything, including Youth Lobby Day with Equality Maine at the State House, (the event she assisted in organizing). The event was postponed until yesterday, (good thing yesterday's storm wasn't as significant...Happy Spring in Maine!) and we were up at 5am and to the Capitol by 8am. Thankfully, we're fairly local to the seat of our state's government, because Olivia's activity there seems to be becoming a regular thing; just last month, she spent the day there shadowing a legislator.



You see, somehow we've raised an activist. (Insert heavy sarcasm.) Last fall, Olivia was accepted into Equality Maine's New Leader's Project, where she has excelled and well, proven her leadership skills. As part of her independent project within the EQME NLP, she is organizing and hosting a talk at the Maine Youth Activism Gathering in April. Oh, and she's also on the team that is organizing YAG.

So a lot of her days involve some juggling. A few weeks ago I was out shopping with her while she was trying on clothes for the upcoming EQME Awards Dinner and when I got back to the changing room with more options, I overheard her on the phone, planning with her co-host, a Blunt Youth Radio show on reproductive rights and access to care. (Unfortunately, this show has not been uploaded yet. She agreed this morning to co-host one on Rape Culture in April). Some of her days are really long and might begin with a YAG meeting in one town in the early morning, and then a full day of assisting at an event until late into the evening, two-hours south.



In her downtime, Olivia enjoys nerding-out with her similarly-minded father while tormenting the likes of me with detailed lists and endless discussion and chart-making about such things as chicks (which we are getting in June) and the exact combination of said chicks and where exactly we should put them and when we should order them and which feeders are best.

If discussing chickens is out, she gets us all wound-up and next thing you know, the Bradstreets are volunteering to coordinate our town's annual historical-day event in August. Because we needed something to do.

And she's just seventeen. Hand me a pillow. And a blanket. Draw the blinds, please. I need a nap.


(In all seriousness, we're extremely proud of Olivia, in her activism and in her abilities to inspire and lead others, but most of all, her good heart, clarity of thought, and willingness to act.)

Youth Activism: Preserving Spaces and Youth Voices on the Air

Even with our move to the farm, Olivia and Adam remain committed to their volunteer work with Blunt Youth Radio out of WMPG in Portland. They both continue to produce and engineer shows, like this one on LGBTQIA+ Issues, or Intersectional Feminism, or Geek Culture in Maine. Most recently, they were both asked to produce the Indiegogo campaign video for Blunt's latest fundraising effort to improve and update Blunt's recording equipment. Adam and Olivia used their own equipment, talent, and skills to produce this video. They spent several days editing and agonizing over details. Essentially, they did what they always do, regarding their work; they took it seriously and committed fully to it. They are both detail oriented, and passionate about producing good material. They make a good team and it was sometimes overwhelming to listen to them geek out about the finer points. It was also incredibly fun to watch them work together. Ultimately, I think their vision will serve Blunt Youth Radio well.
Please consider offering your support by preserving youth voices on the air with your donation.

I'm Fat And I Want To Spend Money In Your Store

This is a letter that I have sent to J.Jill's customer service department, as requested, by J.Jill on twitter, regarding my recent experience at their outlet store. This is not the typical sort of thing that I post, but I thought it was important to share. Also, this applies to Land's End, LL Bean, H & M, and Old Navy. ~ Amy



To Whom It May Concern,

I have been a loyal and frequent customer of J.Jill's for twelve years. I have come to appreciate the beautiful, well-made, clothing J.Jill offers. More than that, I have been so appreciative of the fact that J.Jill recognizes that the average woman in the US is a size 14 or above and that J.Jill carries sizes up to 4x for a wide variety of styles. And while it's always been frustrating to never have the option to shop for clothing in stores (as there weren't any nearby until the recent addition of the South Portland store at the Maine Mall), I was reasonably content to shop at the outlet stores in both North Conway, NH (until it closed) and the Kittery, ME store, (and I almost always spend several hundred dollars at a time, in addition to giving good reviews and recommendations to my friends about J.Jill.)

However, on Sunday, August 25, I stopped in at the outlet store in Kitttery, ME, which was full of smart-looking shoppers. I looked in all the usual places for the women's sizes racks. When I was unable to find any, I asked a clerk about where the women's sizes were located. The clerk answered, "We don't have those anymore. J.Jill took them away." To which I responded, "oh, I see. Like I'm about to take my business away?" At which point, a second clerk said, "You can shop on-line." I assure you, every other customer in that store was made aware of my dissatisfaction. I went into the store, ready to spend a significant amount of money, and left unhappy and treated unfairly.

This is not okay. Not even a little, is it okay. If you offer women's sizes, as J.Jill does, you must offer them in your stores, as well. Not just the outlets, but in the stores in the malls. Otherwise, the message you are sending is that money from your fat customers is unacceptable, that fat people in your stores are unacceptable and that fat customers are not worthy of the same service and quality that your petite and misses-sized people are afforded. By any standard, this constitutes horrible business practice. Not only have you treated your women's-sized customers unfairly, J.Jill is practicing size-discrimination. J.Jill is alienating previously loyal, regular customers. How can that be a sustainable business model? J.Jill had the opportunity to shine as a store that offered beautiful, well-made clothing in extended sizes in an industry that is unbelievably size-biased, and instead, J.Jill has alienated customers. What a shame!

All people prefer the chance to try on clothing before purchasing it and appreciate being able to return items to a store. All people want immediate access to clothing (because we need to clothe ourselves - it's not a frivolous desire, it's an actual need), and all people deserve to be treated with dignity and kindness. Shopping on-line meets none of these needs.

Over the twelve years that I been a loyal and regular customer to J.Jill, I have come to associate the brand with diversity. No longer is that the case. I'm not embarrassed or ashamed to be a fat person. I am embarrassed and ashamed that there are companies out there, such as J.Jill, who engage is discriminatory business practices. I have told all my twitter and Facebook followers about my experience, and I plan to blog about this as well. (I may just post this letter).

Also, I thought you should know - I have a daughter who wears misses sizes. She won't be shopping at JJill, either, because she doesn't believe in J.Jill's discriminatory, size-shaming policies.

Sincerely,

Amy Bradstreet

Listen For The Birdsong, Look Up

This week leaves me feeling immensely grateful for so much. Over the weekend, we dropped Olivia off to travel with four other friends up to the Maine Youth Activism Gathering, where she spent three days being with people who are mindful and compassionate about social justice. By all accounts, she had an amazing time, eating locally sourced, fresh food, and connecting with interesting people. While she was there, she and some of her travel companions did some recording for Blunt Youth Radio.



They hope to do a show on youth activism for Blunt, in the future. Already, she's excited to be a part of mini-YAGatherings. It definitely seems like a good resource for the Maine teen who is passionate about activism.

The rest of us spent some time at the farmhouse, stripping more wallpaper and glue from walls. And just in case you've ever thought to yourself, gee, what this room needs is wallpaper, I'm here to tell you, you are wrong. So horribly wrong, just sit there in your wrongness being wrong, wrong. ::sigh:: But, it is nearly all gone and this week, we will spend four days up there, finally getting primer and paint on the walls.



In between scrapes and moments of trying to clean up the endless mess that results from renovations, we took ourselves outside, which seems to be the best reset for weary minds and bodies. On Sunday evening, the sky was lit up with peach clouds in a Maxfield Parrish sky and a robin sang the sun to bed as the brook rushed a few yards away.











On Monday, when we heard the news about Boston, and our hearts broke again, we picked up our daughter, grateful she was safe, sound and happy, and more, back under our roof, at least for now. The robin's song replayed in my head, and my mind tried to reconcile the contrast of pure, simple beauty, with hideous loss. All I can do, any of us can do, for those that have lost so much, is hold them in our hearts and minds, and listen for the birdsong, every day, and know that joy exists. Look up.

I've Grown Out The Gray, Now What?

It was nearly three years ago that I wrote about growing out my gray hair. Since then, my hair has been long, medium-length and almost short and the old layers upon layers of hair dye, have been chopped off. Each year I've become more honey-brown with silver. Along my natural part, I have a streak that is white.

I'm approaching 42.

So how do I feel about my hair, now? Am I panicking, am I feeling unnecessarily aged in a culture that fears aging?

Well, no.



Quite the opposite, in fact.

I've loved being reacquainted with my natural color, the golden and reddish tones and yes, the silver. The white hair that shimmers and sparkles are highlights and the texture is springy and my hair has more volume. My dark brown eyes stand out even more, now. My hair is like my own special accessory, unique to me.

I love it. I'm happy in my own skin and my own hair and that maybe wasn't such an easy thing for me in the past. For me, growing out my gray was a very good measure of self-care.

If you are tempted to put down the bottle of hair dye or give up expensive salon appointments, go for it. Grow out that gray, the silver and white. There's power in hair that glimmers and whispers your stories. Go ahead and shine.

A Very Good Weekend

We began our weekend in a very celebratory style by joining the large gathering of people at Portland City Hall at midnight, Saturday. We gathered to cheer on the first same-sex couples who were married anytime after 12:01AM, when Maine's equal marriage law went into effect. The plan was to arrive prepared to sing All You Need Is Love, which we did, (though perhaps not to my starry-eyed imaginings.)



It was a cold, snowy, wintry night (uh, morning). The chill that had taken hold of us was soon cast out by the groundswell of cheers and love, however, that greeted the first newly married couples as they descended the city hall steps. What a truly happy, loving, community experience that was, and one we are honored to have been a small part.





On Saturday afternoon, friends gathered here, for a potluck (what we called our Not Boxing Day New Year's Eve Eve Eve Party). We had a great evening, full of good conversation, laughter and food. The kids played Werewolves for a bit, by some miracle, all squeezing into Olivia's small bedroom, and later, they played with the WiiU. It was like our own little geek convention, and we'll definitely have to do it again soon.








Sunday, we were grateful that we had done all the party clean-up before bed, and we sat around in comfy clothes and enjoyed our home, a movie, the gorgeous snow, and leftovers. It was a good weekend, filled with much needed relaxation.



Tonight, we'll do our usual quiet New Year's Eve at home, with a cheese and crackers supper around a movie. I wish you all the best in the New Year.

Let's Make History Together - Vote!

Having fewer people empowered is not going to end wars. - Olivia Bradstreet, 15, unschooled

We discuss politics and current events in our home pretty much around the clock and this certainly ramps up during a presidential election year. Maine is also, again, voting on equal marriage, so that's on our minds as well (we're for it, and we voted early). This year, however, we have social media and the kids are now teens. So they are reading and digesting political commentary on their own-though the reading Olivia does on Tumblr has a decidedly feminist social justice perspective that most mainstream media does not promote. They've witnessed and have even participated in a few social media scuffles; debates with friends on third party candidates, the lesser of two evils position, who's pro or anti all the things we care about.

One recent morning we were discussing such a running Facebook conversation and there was this idea being debated that since both candidates were pro-war, we must all vote our conscience and vote third party, splitting the vote for the most viable candidates be damned (that lesser of two evils argument). My family's position is that there is indeed a candidate who is not only viable, but will help ensure that people will be granted civil rights, have their reproductive and sexual health protected, that is cognizant of and has already helped those who live with food and housing insecurity, the uninsured and those with costly or chronic medical needs. We want the TeaRepublican War on Women (to say nothing of the war on people who are not white) to be silenced, and we don't believe that a third party candidate is a viable option at this time.

So we had some people saying that voting third party was the only right way to go and then there was the group, like us, arguing that this vote was too important to give to a third party candidate, precisely because of the rights and very lives of people everywhere, that are at stake during this election and for years after. During the arguments, the use of drones and the military actions taken by the current administration were called into question, justifiably.

So much is at stake, however. The next president will be appointing up to four Supreme Court Justices, and the outcome of this election will have a domino effect on people for generations to come. We need people who have their basic human rights met, who have civil liberties, because as Olivia put it so succinctly one morning, "having fewer people empowered isn't going to end wars."

Like Olivia, I, too, think that people who are no longer struggling, who enjoy civil liberties, who have a voice and exercise it, we are people who begin to think outside our lives, who begin to take action and call into question, policies that are destructive and immoral. We are people who might even lend support to third party candidates years before an election, working for campaigns, even running for office ourselves.

By far the most important thing you can do today, if you have not already, is vote. Please vote. Exercise your right, your privilege, and make history.
 

Our Halloween: Changelings

Our teens planned for their Samhain, or Halloween far in advance, as they do every year. I complain a bit if the discussion begins in June, simply not feeling like thinking about late autumn before summer has arrived. When Olivia heard that a band she liked would be performing a benefit concert for the Maine's equal marriage campaign, she got her tickets early. Adam, on the other hand, decided he wanted to trick-or-treat with his friend Noah, and we're not about to tell our kids they can't dress up in costume and take part in Halloween festivities just because they've reached a certain age. So about a month ago, he decided to he'd dress up as every one's favorite secret agent, 007.

So I stayed home so I could do my usual Samhain ritual of making the house cozy and welcoming. I hosted the boys and met our few trick-or-treaters at the door and Alex went with Olivia (who unfortunately wasn't feeling very well) to the the fun. concert.

Our Halloweens are changing, as our children grow, as it should be. I suspect some year no one will want to trick-or-treat or dress in costume. There will be more concerts, more dates, more parties, other events, other interests that will mark theirs, (as well as mine and Alex's) Halloweens.





As long as they are willing to stand under our apple tree or pose in character for me while I snap photos, I am grateful. Our teens are growing so fast, changing, evolving into young adults. Everyday they have important things to say, observations to make and good to contribute. Samhain, Halloween, has always marked transformation, and my awareness of this becomes more acute as my children grow. They are changelings, indeed.

Gratitude Makes Autumn Even More Glorious

I'm looking at the calendar date and the leaves changing, at peak or past peak now, and I reflect on the weeks since the fair and I think about all the things for which I am grateful. My list is long and it begins with being able to write this post at all. You see, the Monday following the fair, I noticed a small area around my ear, which had been irritated by my sunglasses, getting swollen and ultimately infected. My ear was pounding and I began to feel ill, despite all the home remedies and care I was applying. By Thursday, I needed to see a health practitioner and I was prescribed antibiotics. I went home with my pills, and commenced drafting my piece for the Maine Unschooling Mini Conference, that I was planning to present on Saturday. As I worked, Alex and the kids were happily cutting up cabbages and cucumbers for lacto-fermentation. Several hours later, I began to have an allergic reaction to the antibiotic and when I called my doctor, I was told to head immediately to the emergency room. Once there, my throat was swelling and I was sent to triage, where I was fitted with an IV. Soon after, I discovered that I also have a very intense, very unpleasant reaction to Benadryl, of which I was given a large dose to help bring down my anaphylaxis. In short, I thought I was dying. All I could think about was how, when I left the house, my two teens were busy stuffing cabbage and cucumber into glass Ball jars. Alex was with me in the ER the entire time, (gratitude #2) and obviously, I made it home safely (and shaken) later that same evening.




That Friday before the conference, I worked all day on my piece and took the medications that was keeping my allergic reaction at bay. My anxiety was at a high (also part of the allergic reaction) and I worked late into the evening and was up before dawn to head up to Camden with my family for the unschooling conference. We had a really great time reuniting with friends and visiting one of our favorite Maine towns. Each of us presented. Alex presented A Conversation About Higher Education, Adam hosted a Minecraft Funshop and Olivia joined me in presenting Unschooling As Feminist Activism. It was a really positive experience and (gratitude #3), I'm so glad we were able to attend and present. (Incidentally, Alex and I have been asked to present at the Northeast Unschooling Conference in August 2013.)



Then last week I continued to have reactions to the various medications I was on, including the ones meant to mitigate any anaphylaxis and it meant I was not up to doing much. It was a week of ups and downs, no doubt about it, as we celebrated some very good news (gratitude #4) and we crossed fingers and worried about someone close to us whom we care very much about, knowing they face a tremendous health crisis.

By this past weekend, my normally good health returned and I feel myself again (gratitude #5). I'm back to baking, gardening, home caring and doing fun things with my teens (gratitude + infinity). I look around and I'm grateful beyond measure for my family, friends and home, for the beauty surrounding me and that, as the wheel turns, I get to witness Autumn paint, with fine, impressionist points as well as broad, blatant strokes of color across the landscape. I'm here, I'm grateful to my core and I'm taking it all in. Every bit.

Speaking Of Unschooling

As we begin activities and pursue our interests and move into our fall routine, we are as committed as ever to unschooling. Inescapable, however, is the focus on school. Back-to-school promotions, sales events, scheduling, so much is centered on school. And while we benefit, certainly, from uncrowded libraries, museums, parks and a wide range of other venues, the silence, the lack of young peoples' presence is also unsettling; their voices go unheard, their ideas and needs are unmet and society can forget them for six or more hours a day. For these reasons, when our unschoolers are out in the world, people (read adult people) question their presence. Sometimes with polite interest, more times with rudeness. But always, always, the question is why aren't you in school?, or it's companion but how can you learn anything without school?

Sometimes these questions are asked in a larger forum, on TV or in news articles and often unschooling is looked at with scrutiny, and more unfortunately, with prejudice. This is why many families are hesitant to talk to the media, and simply because, how does one convey an entire philosophy of living, parenting and being present in a few sentences or minutes? It's not easy, and the risk is always there for misunderstanding and misrepresentation. It takes an entire paradigm shift, in one's thinking, understanding and living, and it's a shift that is required just about every waking moment of unschoolers and unschooling parents; it is perhaps unreasonable to expect that media should grasp the philosophy, having only grappled with it for the brief length of an interview.

There are other risks associated with speaking publicly about unschooling, (beyond any privacy risks) as well. Should any one family be the spokesperson for unschooling, when unschooling certainly has key principles, to the world, it can look very different from family to family? Currently (always), there is an ongoing discussion in the unschooling community about unschooling philosophy and its principles, who decides those principles and are some people adhering to unschooling more appropriately (if appropriate applies, even) than others. As such, there's a certain wariness and responsibility many unschoolers feel when speaking openly about our learning philosophy.

This is not to say that there are never positive, informative and affirming ways in which to discuss unschooling openly. Many have written and published books that have gone on to be cornerstones to unschooling philosophy. There are numerous, amazing blogs that chronicle the lives of unschooling people. Many unschoolers produce videos for YouTube or present and conferences or other forums regarding their experiences. Last week (September 5, 2011) Olivia, 14, produced and co-hosted a show on unschooling for WMPG's Blunt Youth Radio. Her intent was to present unschooling without debate and without contrasting it to school and to present unschooling to the greater community, as an Unschooling 101. During the program, Olivia's co-host asked her some questions about her own unschooling experience and later, they interviewed several people, in-studio and via the phone, including yours truly. Marieke, lives locally and so she was in-studio. As a grown, always-unschooler who recently just earned her Masters degree, she offered her own fascinating and unique perspective on her unschooling, and she remains a steadfast supporter of the philosophy. Olivia also interviewed Kathryn Baptista, the founder and organizer of the Northeast Unschooling Conference and the mother of grown unschooler and musician, Julian Baptista. The show, I think, was very successful and stayed true to Olivia's goal and intent with presenting unschooling. (I wish that I could link you to the archived recording, but it is unavailable at this time. I will see what I can do to remedy this.)

Sometimes, too, people in the media are truly interested in the unschooling philosophy and seek out those families willing to share their experiences and are invited to do so without being antagonized or misrepresented by the interviewer, as was the case at the end of last week, when the local paper interviewed our family. The author, Gillian Graham, came to our home and sat with us around our table for over an hour, listening mostly, to our rather enthusiastic and probably overwhelming perspectives on unschooling. We are grateful to her for her willingness to listen and report on a topic so dear to us. Similarly, this report offered up a fair look at unschooling, just as most education articles were focused on back-to-school topics.

While it's not always easy to discern who is going to be open-minded enough to report on unschooling without bias, I think it's important for unschoolers to keep trying. While negative and hostile comments and reactions from our own circle of family and friends, communities, institutions and media can drive us to isolation or only willing to seek out the company of other unschoolers, there are people out there willing and ready to learn from unschooling. I see increasing evidence that unschooling philosophy (knowingly or not) is being looked to, when news pieces on education reform talk about adoption of technology in the classroom,

"Kids, especially in kindergarten, who are five years old, are very hands on and learn best when they're actually manipulating information and manipulating objects,"says Sherwood Heights principal Laura Shaw. She says iPads also provide children with immediate feedback."

or how classrooms are using resources long used by unschoolers to help students learn.

"Initially, Thordarson thought Khan Academy would merely be a helpful supplement to her normal instruction. But it quickly become far more than that. She’s now on her way to “flipping” the way her class works. This involves replacing some of her lectures with Khan’s videos, which students can watch at home. Then, in class, they focus on working problem sets. The idea is to invert the normal rhythms of school, so that lectures are viewed on the kids’ own time and homework is done at school. It sounds weird, Thordarson admits, but this flipping makes sense when you think about it. It’s when they’re doing homework that students are really grappling with a subject and are most likely to need someone to talk to. And now Thordarson can tell just when this grappling occurs: Khan Academy provides teachers with a dashboard application that lets her see the instant a student gets stuck."

More telling is that education reformers have begun using the very language and actual principles of unschooling, as in this Daily Riff article,

"Since the role of the teacher has changed, to more of a tutor than a deliverer of content, we have the privilege of observing students interact with each other. As we roam around the class, we notice the students developing their own collaborative groups. Students are helping each other learn instead of relying on the teacher as the sole disseminator of knowledge. It truly is magical to observe. We are often in awe of how well our students work together and learn from each other."

Then there are the popular bloggers, like Seth Godin, who question the very existence of school as we currently know it and challenge us all to do the hard work of questioning school, too.

Perhaps as the very schools we unschoolers choose to do without adopt more and more unschooling principles, the questions we get from the clerk at the grocery store will become less critical, and more curious. Perhaps the parks and museums will become learning hubs once more, as the classroom walls expand outward, into the world. We can continue unschooling, adding our voices and principles to the education discussion, as we become less reticent to do so as the system changes. We can hope.

Shame And Blame Where It Belongs Regarding The Objectification Of Children

Yesterday morning, I had CNN on while folding some laundry and caught this opinion piece. I was initially stunned at the title, which refers to little girls as tramps, and as the piece continued and the reporter descended into gender tropes about how boys are easier to raise than girls, and LZ Granderson (the one offering his opinion) referred to his own son, I had to shut the tv off because I couldn't stand to listen any longer. When I later read Granderson's opinion piece, I was further disgusted with his casual mention of causing bodily harm to his son; the threat disguised as humor, "my son knows I would break both of his legs long before I would allow him to walk out of the house with his pants falling off his butt", he wrote. He later writes, "the way I see it, my son can go to therapy later if my strict rules have scarred him." This is the goal? We want to control and threaten our children to the point of scarring and needing therapy later in life? And I'm supposed to nod my head and agree with this opinion?

Look, I had all kinds of ideas about parenting long before I was a parent. I was never going to have video games in my house, for instance. Of course that was an uninformed decision, as in, I hadn't actually begun sharing my life with two other young people who would have their own needs, ideas and opinions about things. I never thought I would be the parent to take my young daughter to the mall for our biannual Sears portraits (when we were still doing such things), dressed like a princess, either. But when four year old Olivia was insistent that she wanted to wear the dress, I checked myself. I had to stop and think about why I objected and then I had to think about why or if my objections mattered. I soon decided that preserving my daughter's dignity, will and need to self-identify was far more important than my need to project some sort of ill-formed, base-less prejudice onto her. And then I thought, this is her, this is where she's at, age four. It was the making of a positive memory.



In the Granderson piece and in much of the commentary since, there's a focus on who is to blame for kids' attire (most specifically, "Yeah, that 8-year-old girl was something to see all right. ... I hope her parents are proud. Their daughter was the sexiest girl in the terminal, and she's not even in middle school yet.") If you've never been shopping for children, I will tell you, it's not an easy task. What with the constant growing and wearing, kids can be tough to fit, let alone furnish with an entire wardrobe. Shopping for kids attire is further challenging because of what is available, or isn't. Not everyone has the financial means or access to shop the likes of Mini Boden, Hannah Anderson or Land's End, which all feature fun, cotton, mostly classic clothing, but at not exactly bargain prices. For many, this type of clothing may only be available through catalog or on-line shopping, which requires the use of a credit card, which assumes you have one. Other clothing options might range from what's available at the local mall, big box store, thrift shop or dollar store, the styles and material varying widely. What is purchased can further be limited by transportation access, whether the store is within walking distance or hours it is open. There lies within this blame the assumption that all parents have the resources, access and availability to shop a certain way (ostensibly the best way, or the appropriate way). There's also an ableist aspect to this assumption, too. Shopping with children in spaces where children's clothing is sold means navigating closely positioned racks, where clothing is hung high, and it often requires moving through crowds and covering some distance. Shopping for clothing can mean holding, hanging, sorting, looking, touching and folding, in spaces that don't provide seating or a place to rest, or hang a bag or a shelf to place a parcel. And doing so, presumably, with child(ren), that will need to be helped, dressed, assisted, nurtured, nourished and kept safe. When we assign blame to parents regarding what we might deem an inappropriate clothing choice for a child (especially what we presume to be a girl child), we are doing so without knowing anything about a parent's (or childs') path to acquiring that item of clothing. (This doesn't even address the ageist aspect of this, by asking how one determines the age of the person they are looking at? Granderson assumes the girl he was scrutinizing was eight; how did he know?)

As far as looking askance at a child and tsk tsking, shaking our heads and leaping to words like tramp, whore, slut or prostitute, that's contributing to the on-going objectification of children. It's called slut-shaming. Pigtail Pals addressed slut-shaming with regards to Granderson's piece, yesterday:

Clothing, or lack of clothing, does not make someone a prostitute. When we are cavalier about the degrading terms we use for our girls, we belittle their inherent worth, and desensitize ourselves to what it really means to be a prostitute. From what I hear, it isn’t a great lifestyle. The proximity I had with it as an investigator revealed it to be brutal, lonely, and dangerous. Our culture sends mixed messages to young women to be hot and sexy and available at all times, and then as soon as these women or girls become sexual agents and act on their desires they face the repressive push-back from society and are branded sluts and whores. Confused? So am I.

I'm frankly more concerned with raising my children in a rape culture than I am their fashion choices. When news outlets like CNN refuse to cover the rape of an 11- year-old girl in Texas by a gang of 18, March 2011, and the New York Times ran a piece that refers to the gang-rape as "vicious assault" and goes on to comment about the 11-year-old victim, "she dressed older than her age, wearing makeup and fashions more appropriate to a woman in her 20s. She would hang out with teenage boys at a playground, some said.", something is incredibly wrong. It's unconscionable to me that as a society, our first leap is to question, judge and comment on the clothing of a gang-rape victim, but not question why the 18 boys and men were raping. It's indicative of a rape culture that as a society, we objectify girls and women (and all children)and critique their clothing, rather than teaching people not to rape. Instead we scold, judge and blame and slut-shame girls and women for their clothing because we deem their choices to be trashy or attention-seeking and asking for it. Just like the presumably eight-year-old girl in Granderson's judgmental piece was asking for it, by wearing sweat-pants with Juicy printed on the bottom.

This may be the culture we live in, but that doesn't mean that I, as a parent to two, independent, bright people with needs and opinions of their own, have to like it and feed into it. When Olivia long ago decided a bikini swimsuit was a better fit for her, I trusted her to know what she wanted and needed. I wasn't about to admonish her with warnings of how she would be objectified by others, or how others might prey on her because she simply wanted to be comfortable. Of course my hope for her is that none of that would happen, but in no way was I about to lay that burden and blame at her feet if it did. What I do want to tell my children is that it's no one's business what they wear or why they wear it. And Mr. Granderson, if that makes me my children's "40-year-old BFF", so be it.

*With thanks to my 14-year-old daughter, Olivia, for permission to use both the photo and story and for contributing to this post with her thoughtful discussion about this issue.

November :: The Space Between

Oh November. All at once you are here, arriving promptly after Halloween with nary a moment to accept the change. It seems we went from long days outside to many blissful days of nesting inside. Beds seem harder to leave in the morning, out of reluctance to leave the sun filled spaces, the warm flannel sheets and layers of quilts. In this house, changes are happening all around us, all good, but change and I have never seen eye to eye, and I find myself seeking known, cozy, well-trod corners for comfort. November-not quite anything. Not autumn. Not like October is autumn. The harvest meal of thanks always feels too late. And it's not yet Yule. And yet, the days fill with the busyness of putting by the last harvest, visiting friends, new beginnings, renewing spaces, preparing for the next season. November is all those things, yet it also provides us with a time to pause, to reflect and transition. November signifies change and yet it's the last stop before a new year rushes upon us, it's the half birthdays of my children and the month of lavender sunsets at 5pm.

Here is our November, that space between.

The bed taunts. Quit taunting, bed.



5pm, time to close the shutters.



Odd sighting in downtown Portland.



Alex bottles all that wine.





Time with friends.



The beach.


Remembering.


Cracking myself up.


My new favorite meme, Privilege Denying Dude.


Origami unschool class, here, taught by fellow unschooler, Ben, who is fabulous.




Where we'll be at midnight, tonight.


And this weekend we take Olivia to her second stint at MIT's Splash!

from François @ Edito.qc.ca's