One of my daughters is a Brownie. Her troop consists of 14 other homeschooled girls who enthusiastically gather twice a month to make crafts, have snacks, and learn something new. Another mom and I co-lead the troop.
Since service is at the heart of scouting for both girls and boys, we look for ways to involve 15 giggly girls in something that compels them to think outside of themselves.
Earlier this month, the girls gathered up pet supplies to take to an area animal shelter.
Today, they packed boxes for soldiers.
With Valentine's Day coming up, we thought it was a good time to send love and appreciation to our military members overseas -- folks you know would give anything to be back home with their spouses, children and friends.
When the email went out to all our Brownie families asking each girl to bring ten of one item to fill ten prepaid postage boxes, I figured we'd get a little of this and a little of that since, after all, a lot of families are operating on one income, some are unemployed and others are still recovering from Christmas shopping.
Instead, the girls arrived at their meeting today with bags overflowing, enough to fill at least four more boxes than I'd picked up at the P.O.
A local organization called Cypress Cares collects and mails out hundreds of care packages on a regular basis to U.S. soldiers stationed in the Middle East and Afghanistan. (For more information on this awesome effort, visit the website www.cypress-cares.org) They will mail our boxes, too.
Now, 14 care packages might not seem like a lot, given the fact we've got thousands and thousands of troops stationed in Iraq and Afghanistan.
But each box will be shared with others, maybe as many as eight others. Doing the math, this means our 14 boxes have the potential to brighten the day of as many as 112 soldiers.
Not too shabby considering it's the effort of only 15 little girls (and their supportive parents).
Sometimes it's hard to know how much projects like this impact children. Do they get it? Do they know what they're doing and why?
Maybe I'm biased, but my daughter and her friends really seem to understand. Ask any one of them who the boxes are going to, why the soldiers need or want them, and why we should bother to send the boxes in the first place.
Chances are you'll get answers that will melt your heart and make you proud to be an American even though that's not fashionable in some circles anymore.
Our Brownies are too young to really know about or care about the political debate that has raged every day since U.S. troops were sent to root out terrorism abroad. Rather, they view the situation from a more practical (and precious) perspective: Soldiers are far from home. They need our support. Let's send them tasty snacks and things to make them more comfortable.
The Girl Scout Promise includes the following: "I will do my best to serve God and my country and to help people at all times."
The Brownies of Troop #15200 are keeping their promise.
If only Washington and Hollywood would do the same. . .
Wordly discourse on everything from the sad state of public education, politics and world peace to vegetarianism, breast vs. bottle, religious persecution, bad media, and all manner of life's vagaries.
February 12, 2010
The difference between Rush and Rahm
It has been pointed out to me that I wrote in haste a few days ago about the reported comment White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel made in which he used a disparaging term to describe the intellect of some fellow Democrats.
To be exact, he allegedly referred to them as "f*****g retards."
The remark earned more attention after former Alaskan governor Sarah Palin blasted Emanuel and called for his resignation. Palin's son has Down Syndrome, a condition that is synonymous with mental retardation.
Then it was revealed that radio host Rush Limbaugh had also used the term "retard" to describe folks in Washington with whom he does not agree. He seemed to be poking at Palin for not wanting Emanuel to call a spade a spade, so to speak.
Palin was asked about Limbaugh's comment and apparently she blustered her way through a defense of some sort. After all, she and Rush are technically on the same team, right?
Critics said Palin's lack of rebuke in the Limbaugh case made her a hypocrite.
I've thought hard about this and I come to a different conclusion.
Anyone who sits at the right hand of the president of the United States is, by default, a representative of the American people. He lives and works in quarters maintained by American citizens and is beholden to them for pretty much everything he does or says while in an official capacity. Emanuel made his unfortunate remark in a closed meeting -- but a meeting held on American taxpayer-owned property and on the American taxpayers' dime.
He should be held to a higher standard.
Rush Limbaugh, on the other hand, while a public figure, is not an elected or appointed member of the U.S. government. He does not represent our citizenry in official business and cannot be held to the same standard as someone who does.
It's like the Bible says in Luke 12:48, "To whom much is given, much is required."
Rahm has a bigger title, ergo he should exercise his privilege with greater care.
'Nuff said.
To be exact, he allegedly referred to them as "f*****g retards."
The remark earned more attention after former Alaskan governor Sarah Palin blasted Emanuel and called for his resignation. Palin's son has Down Syndrome, a condition that is synonymous with mental retardation.
Then it was revealed that radio host Rush Limbaugh had also used the term "retard" to describe folks in Washington with whom he does not agree. He seemed to be poking at Palin for not wanting Emanuel to call a spade a spade, so to speak.
Palin was asked about Limbaugh's comment and apparently she blustered her way through a defense of some sort. After all, she and Rush are technically on the same team, right?
Critics said Palin's lack of rebuke in the Limbaugh case made her a hypocrite.
I've thought hard about this and I come to a different conclusion.
Anyone who sits at the right hand of the president of the United States is, by default, a representative of the American people. He lives and works in quarters maintained by American citizens and is beholden to them for pretty much everything he does or says while in an official capacity. Emanuel made his unfortunate remark in a closed meeting -- but a meeting held on American taxpayer-owned property and on the American taxpayers' dime.
He should be held to a higher standard.
Rush Limbaugh, on the other hand, while a public figure, is not an elected or appointed member of the U.S. government. He does not represent our citizenry in official business and cannot be held to the same standard as someone who does.
It's like the Bible says in Luke 12:48, "To whom much is given, much is required."
Rahm has a bigger title, ergo he should exercise his privilege with greater care.
'Nuff said.
February 10, 2010
Little children and boxes for valentines
A million years ago when I was a child in elementary school, teachers were still allowed to host Valentine's Day parties where moms would come with home-baked goodies and the students would bring "mailboxes" made out of covered, decorated shoeboxes to hold the proof of their fellow classmates' affection (or not).
One year we decorated little paper lunch sacks and those were taped to the edge of our desks so other kids could come by and drop in their cards.
I always loved and loathed this ritual. What if the cutest boy in class passed by your desk and didn't drop in a card? What if the creepiest boy did? What if the girl you thought was your friend gave you a snarky valentine, one with an ugly cartoon character that said something like, "Too strange for me, Valentine," when what you really wanted was one that said, "Best friends forever, Valentine!"
It was a microcosm of life to come -- the day we all go out into the world only to realize that people's affections are truly fleeting, unpredictable, sometimes unsatisfying, and always a mystery.
With that in mind, I debated for a couple of years about whether (and how) to give my children the experience of a Valentine's Day party in spite of the fact that they don't attend a traditional school. I wanted them to have the fun of making a card box, choosing which cards to give to whom, feeling that anticipation and sense of delight that comes from counting up your cards at the end of the day and knowing that someone out there thinks "you're special," "you're neat," "you're a sweetie," etc.
Thus the semi-annual Valentine's Day Party At Our House was born.
It goes like this: For two weeks prior to the party, the kids and I plan what we're going to eat, what sort of goodie bags we're going to give, what sort of crafts or games we're going to offer, and what sort of decorations we're going to use. They make their valentine card mailboxes.
The excitement builds once we actually start buying stuff for the big day, and it hits a fevered pitch once the first crepe paper streamers or dangly sparkly heart cut-outs are taped to the doorways, ceilings, or counter edges.
The jubilation is palpable. The children are now fully engaged in the whole process. Once they sit down to make out their valentine cards for their guests, it's like watching a congressional debate. "Who do you think should get this one?" "I'm not giving that one to her, she doesn't like dogs. I'll give her one with cats!" "What if I can't spell my whole name on one line?" "What color do you think he would like, red or purple?" and on and on it goes.
Such love, such care goes into every single card. Each one is a labor of an earnest heart eager to please a friend and hoping the friend will feel the same and reciprocate with a card of their own.
This year's party was on the same day as choir practice -- my three oldest sing in a choir with six other children, all homeschooled -- so we held the party beforehand.
We made our own heart-shaped cookies this morning, and even my two-year-old had a job as "sprinkler of tiny hearts" on each cookie.
Shortly after noon, the parade of young people coming up my front walk nearly brought tears to my eyes. They were all so excited and eager to show off their beautifully decorated box or bag. One girl had an elaborately painted and beribboned pail. Each child had a stack of valentines to distribute, but we asked them to wait until after snacks and a simple heart-themed craft.
Then the real fun began as eight kids jockeyed for a place in front of a long table in our entryway where the boxes, bags and pail were lined up waiting to be fed.
When it was all over four hours later and the friends had gone, my children sat around and pondered -- scrutinized, actually -- the cards they'd received. They studied the pictures on the cards and I could hear them discussing among themselves the minutest details -- the size of the card, the way the giver signed his or her name, what the card said, its colors, which was their favorite.
Eight valentines -- that's what each child got. Symbols of a memory made that won't soon be forgotten.
One year we decorated little paper lunch sacks and those were taped to the edge of our desks so other kids could come by and drop in their cards.
I always loved and loathed this ritual. What if the cutest boy in class passed by your desk and didn't drop in a card? What if the creepiest boy did? What if the girl you thought was your friend gave you a snarky valentine, one with an ugly cartoon character that said something like, "Too strange for me, Valentine," when what you really wanted was one that said, "Best friends forever, Valentine!"
It was a microcosm of life to come -- the day we all go out into the world only to realize that people's affections are truly fleeting, unpredictable, sometimes unsatisfying, and always a mystery.
With that in mind, I debated for a couple of years about whether (and how) to give my children the experience of a Valentine's Day party in spite of the fact that they don't attend a traditional school. I wanted them to have the fun of making a card box, choosing which cards to give to whom, feeling that anticipation and sense of delight that comes from counting up your cards at the end of the day and knowing that someone out there thinks "you're special," "you're neat," "you're a sweetie," etc.
Thus the semi-annual Valentine's Day Party At Our House was born.
It goes like this: For two weeks prior to the party, the kids and I plan what we're going to eat, what sort of goodie bags we're going to give, what sort of crafts or games we're going to offer, and what sort of decorations we're going to use. They make their valentine card mailboxes.
The excitement builds once we actually start buying stuff for the big day, and it hits a fevered pitch once the first crepe paper streamers or dangly sparkly heart cut-outs are taped to the doorways, ceilings, or counter edges.
The jubilation is palpable. The children are now fully engaged in the whole process. Once they sit down to make out their valentine cards for their guests, it's like watching a congressional debate. "Who do you think should get this one?" "I'm not giving that one to her, she doesn't like dogs. I'll give her one with cats!" "What if I can't spell my whole name on one line?" "What color do you think he would like, red or purple?" and on and on it goes.
Such love, such care goes into every single card. Each one is a labor of an earnest heart eager to please a friend and hoping the friend will feel the same and reciprocate with a card of their own.
This year's party was on the same day as choir practice -- my three oldest sing in a choir with six other children, all homeschooled -- so we held the party beforehand.
We made our own heart-shaped cookies this morning, and even my two-year-old had a job as "sprinkler of tiny hearts" on each cookie.
Shortly after noon, the parade of young people coming up my front walk nearly brought tears to my eyes. They were all so excited and eager to show off their beautifully decorated box or bag. One girl had an elaborately painted and beribboned pail. Each child had a stack of valentines to distribute, but we asked them to wait until after snacks and a simple heart-themed craft.
Then the real fun began as eight kids jockeyed for a place in front of a long table in our entryway where the boxes, bags and pail were lined up waiting to be fed.
When it was all over four hours later and the friends had gone, my children sat around and pondered -- scrutinized, actually -- the cards they'd received. They studied the pictures on the cards and I could hear them discussing among themselves the minutest details -- the size of the card, the way the giver signed his or her name, what the card said, its colors, which was their favorite.
Eight valentines -- that's what each child got. Symbols of a memory made that won't soon be forgotten.
They had TWELVE years!!!!!
News article today reports on public schools in Colorado and the astonishingly high number of college freshmen who require remedial classes in math or reading or writing or ALL THREE.
And homeschooling families are criticized for seeking an alternative? Oh, right, the only place education takes place is in an institutional setting for 7.5 hours a day. . .
From the website EducationNews.org comes the report from the Colorado Commission for Higher Education:
Lest anyone in my great state of Texas feel too smug, here are our stats:
Half of Texas college freshmen are in need of remedial education, compared to only 28 percent nationally.
I shouldn't wonder, given the Houston Chronicle article of 12/25/09 headlined, "Schools take a new direction on spelling":
Quoting from the article by Ericka Mellon, "An age-old staple of elementary school — the weekly spelling test — is disappearing from some classrooms.
And homeschooling families are criticized for seeking an alternative? Oh, right, the only place education takes place is in an institutional setting for 7.5 hours a day. . .
From the website EducationNews.org comes the report from the Colorado Commission for Higher Education:
52.7%
Colo. students starting two-year colleges in fall 2008 who needed remedial help in math, reading or writing17%
Students at two-year schools who needed help in all three areas19%
First-year students at four-year colleges who needed help in at least one of those areas40%
First-year students in two-year schools who needed math remediation16%
First-year students in four-year schools who needed math remediationLest anyone in my great state of Texas feel too smug, here are our stats:
Half of Texas college freshmen are in need of remedial education, compared to only 28 percent nationally.
I shouldn't wonder, given the Houston Chronicle article of 12/25/09 headlined, "Schools take a new direction on spelling":
Quoting from the article by Ericka Mellon, "An age-old staple of elementary school — the weekly spelling test — is disappearing from some classrooms.
Causing confusion among parents, a growing number of schools are ditching tradition for a different method of teaching spelling that focuses less on memorization and more on understanding why and how words are constructed.
Some districts, including Clear Creek and Conroe, have gone as far as encouraging teachers to scrap the typical spelling test — no longer should students get a list of words on Monday and be quizzed on them on Friday. Instead, students should be graded on how well they spell in their writing and whether they stumble on certain words when reading aloud."
But what about all those words not commonly used in writing, or the words not regularly seen in the drivel that often passes for contemporary literature used in classrooms? The spelling test may be the only exposure students get to words like "palladium," "hierarchical," "docent," "cosmopolitan," "hegemony," or "stratosphere."
And why can't spelling tests be done alongside the attention to correct spelling in writing assignments and the correct pronunciation of words when reading aloud?
Reminds me of the years in which "look-say" rather than a combination of phonics and rote memorization got a chokehold on public ed.
We all know how that turned out.
February 4, 2010
When Planned Parenthood feels threatened
It trots out its own drivel in advance of the hotly contested Superbowl ad that will feature Heisman Trophy winner Tim Tebow.
The ad, paid for by the religious conservative organization Focus on the Family, will star Tebow's mother and will encourage viewers to visit a FOTF website where Mrs. Tebow tells the story of her pregnancy and how doctors suggested she abort when she contracted a dangerous illness. The baby in question was, of course, her son Tim.
Now, I'm having trouble with the trouble this ad has already caused. I don't agree with everything James Dobson and Focus on the Family say or do, but I also don't disagree with everything they offer. Why can't Pam Tebow tell her story? Why can't she serve as a source of inspiration to any woman who has been told (perhaps wrongly) that the baby being carried should be aborted due to an overriding medical condition? What about all the women who ignore their doctor's advice every day and go on to deliver perfectly healthy children? What about those who give birth to children with problems, even though the doctors sounded no alarm?
Planned Parenthood, with its "pro-choice" stance is supposed to be about CHOICE.
Why then is the organization so threatened by Pam Tebow's public airing of the choice she made?
Let's see what PP's president Cecile Richards has to say, shall we? Richards has issued a statement to accompany PP's own counterattack, a video featuring U.S. Olympian Al Joyner and former pro-football player Sean James. (Not sure why PP chose MEN to do its bidding, but whatever.)
Anyway, Richards' statement includes this: "(W)e must respect the ability of every woman to make important medical decisions for herself and her family, after receiving counsel from medical professionals, religious leaders, family members, or others she trusts."
Hmm. I seem to remember intensive campaigns by PP nationwide that discouraged states from making it mandatory for doctors to give out certain information or provide ultrasounds ahead of a planned abortion. I never have understood this. Shouldn't women have access to absolutely everything they need to know in order to make an informed CHOICE? And wouldn't that include "counsel from medical professionals."
I dunno.
Richards goes on to point out -- and rightly so -- that FOTF wears its anti-abortion-under-nearly-every-circumstance position squarely on its sleeve. If FOTF had its way, she argues, women like Pam Tebow would not be able to make choices without government interference. Again, I can't argue. But if PP had its way, women might not get all the facts they need to just say, "no."
Pam Tebow doesn't tell women to not have abortions. She does, however, show us what can happen if we're willing to summon the courage to take the path unknown. She encourages us to find out the rest of the story.
And what's so wrong with that?
The ad, paid for by the religious conservative organization Focus on the Family, will star Tebow's mother and will encourage viewers to visit a FOTF website where Mrs. Tebow tells the story of her pregnancy and how doctors suggested she abort when she contracted a dangerous illness. The baby in question was, of course, her son Tim.
Now, I'm having trouble with the trouble this ad has already caused. I don't agree with everything James Dobson and Focus on the Family say or do, but I also don't disagree with everything they offer. Why can't Pam Tebow tell her story? Why can't she serve as a source of inspiration to any woman who has been told (perhaps wrongly) that the baby being carried should be aborted due to an overriding medical condition? What about all the women who ignore their doctor's advice every day and go on to deliver perfectly healthy children? What about those who give birth to children with problems, even though the doctors sounded no alarm?
Planned Parenthood, with its "pro-choice" stance is supposed to be about CHOICE.
Why then is the organization so threatened by Pam Tebow's public airing of the choice she made?
Let's see what PP's president Cecile Richards has to say, shall we? Richards has issued a statement to accompany PP's own counterattack, a video featuring U.S. Olympian Al Joyner and former pro-football player Sean James. (Not sure why PP chose MEN to do its bidding, but whatever.)
Anyway, Richards' statement includes this: "(W)e must respect the ability of every woman to make important medical decisions for herself and her family, after receiving counsel from medical professionals, religious leaders, family members, or others she trusts."
Hmm. I seem to remember intensive campaigns by PP nationwide that discouraged states from making it mandatory for doctors to give out certain information or provide ultrasounds ahead of a planned abortion. I never have understood this. Shouldn't women have access to absolutely everything they need to know in order to make an informed CHOICE? And wouldn't that include "counsel from medical professionals."
I dunno.
Richards goes on to point out -- and rightly so -- that FOTF wears its anti-abortion-under-nearly-every-circumstance position squarely on its sleeve. If FOTF had its way, she argues, women like Pam Tebow would not be able to make choices without government interference. Again, I can't argue. But if PP had its way, women might not get all the facts they need to just say, "no."
Pam Tebow doesn't tell women to not have abortions. She does, however, show us what can happen if we're willing to summon the courage to take the path unknown. She encourages us to find out the rest of the story.
And what's so wrong with that?
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