Movie Review: Time Traveler's Wife

Lame.

I'm bummed cause I dont get to go to the movies all that often. I really should have seen Julie & Julia, but thought that since I just finished reading Time Traveler's, well, you know...strike while the iron's hot and all that.

It was lame. Of course I didnt expect it to be just like the book, but High Fidelity succeeding in communicating the goings on of John Cusack's (cant remember the title characters name) mind. They could have at least tried to incorporate the characters' wrestlings with fate, free will, predeterminism, etc. Brad Pitt was the exec. producer. You'd think he'd want to at least take a stab at being deep. Oh well. I'll have to save my quarters for movie night next month. Any good recs out there?

Conversations on Race: The Race Card

Last week, in an interview with Brian Williams, Jimmy Carter accused Joe Wilson's comments, and the current political tenson, to be racially motivated.

"I think an overwhelming portion of the intensely demonstrated animosity toward President Barack Obama is based on the fact that he is a black man, that he's African American," Carter said. "I live in the South, and I've seen the South come a long way, and I've seen the rest of the country that shared the South's attitude toward minority groups at that time, particularly African Americans," continued Carter, who is famously from Georgia:

"And that racism inclination still exists. And I think it's bubbled up to the surface becauseof the belief among many white people, not just in the South but around the country, that African-Americans are not qualified to lead this great country. It's an abominable circumstance, and it grieves me and concerns me very deeply."

Those who have disagreed vehemently with Obama's policies, particularly those regarding health care reform, denounce these statements with equal vehemence. They have called Carter's comments ridiculous left-wing rhetoric that bubble up from his "sanctimonious guilt". Glen Beck, not surprisingly, took it one step further and touted that Jimmy Carter's comments were analogous to terrorist attacks:

BECK: Nobody is saying we’re blowing children up or anything like the Taliban. But this is the same kind of tactic being used now in America. You can’t get your agenda, so you unleash the hounds and point the fingers, and everybody is a racist.

I have read several op-ed pieces that call out Carter for pulling the "race card".

What do you think? Do you- my white, black and brown friends- think the fervor demonstrated regarding politics today has anything to do with Obama's being black? I think it is interesting that the White House spokesperson stated that Obama does not feel that the opposition to his policies are racially related. Do you think that is really true or is he just trying to stay above the fray?

I find it interesting that Jimmy Carter is even considered to have a race card. He is white, and therefore, seems excluded from the right to even carry one (Of course, he could, theoretically, have a white one, but certainly can't have one a black one in his deck, if he is, in fact, not black. But, this would also bring up the matter of whether or not a white race card even exists). I think Obama is right to disagree with Carter's assessment of his opposition's motives because he himself is black. He can't say he's being discriminated against. People will assume he is just pulling the race card and dismiss it. But, Jimmy Carter, precisely because he does not have a (minority) race card, he is able to call it as he sees it. He thinks its time to discuss this issue.

These conversations on race are critical at this time in history. It is an ideal time to talk publicly about the state of race relations. Our children are growing up in a culture that communicates openly about the value of all people, regardless of race, gender, age, etc. But, they see something that is altogether in conflict with those messages. They hear adults say they refuse to vote for a man whose middle name is Hussein. They see people of color without jobs. They see the media filled with pictures of dark criminals. How can they be called to value people of other races when their parents have not had opportunities to show them? Well, we have one now. What next?

Time Travel Possible

So, it seems that time travel is theoretically possible, to the future at least. UConn physics professor says so, so it must be true. Also, I read The Time Travelers Wife and it seemed pretty convincing. Not that Doc Brown didn't already have me half way there. Though, the prof from UConn said it would take too much energy to travel to the past, but if you used enough speed, you could go to the future. I'm kinda confused by that. I mean, didn't we already know that?Like, if I were riding my bike, and I left my house at 4:15pm and when I was done riding, it was 4:45pm, I'd be in the future right? Apparently, it took several physicists in Texas with a laser beam to figure that out (I couldn't find any reference to this on the web, but someone at a Bible study told me so; so again I say, it must be true.)

All I know is, in The Time Travelers Wife, Henry, the main character's husband, mostly time- traveled to the past. The future was much harder. The opposite of the theory the physicists are trying to explain. I'm not convinced. I saw what travel to the future did to Henry. It really took at lot out of him. And, I'm not really sure these physicists really understand how emotionally draining this whole time-travel thing is. I mean, Henry really could have used a therapist. All this back and forth, and the nakedness. The nakedness seemed exhausting. I don't know how the UCONN prof will suggest we handle the nudity, but, I am very interested in finding out how Hollywood handles it. Looking forward to it, really.

Jesus Storybook Bible

Currently, my favorite book is The Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally-Lloyd Jones. My mom bought it for my kids, but I help myself to it regularly. Its the best children's Bible I have ever read. Most children's Bibles contain disconnected stories from the Bible, highlighting the characters of each story, along with the "lesson" to be learned.

The Jesus Storybook Bible approaches these stories a little more holistically. The book connects each story to the Christian meta-narrative: God made a people for himself; his people destroyed that relationship and consequently all these became broken; God is relentless in his pursuit of these people, and because of his great love for his people; God provides a way to restore that relationship through the life, death and resurrection of his son Jesus Christ; one day all things will be righted, all brokenness, pain and sickness will be healed and God's people will live with him in peace. Each story reveals the main character to be Jesus. Underneath the title it reads, "Every story whispers his name."

Sally Lloyd-Jones writes the most artistic and poignant versions of the stories I have heard from the womb, stories that I could tell in my sleep with absolutely no emotional connection. But, reading them from this book, I am surprised by hope each time. My children become curious when I am weeping reading to them. They want to know what it is that has touched me so deeply. I have never been so moved by the story of Adam and Eve.

In my opinion, this book deserves the Caldecott Award. The illustrations are phenomenal. An interview with Jago, the illustrator, about the book can be read here.

A Change of Title, A Change of Heart

I decided to change the title of my previous post "Permission to be Exposed to Bigotry and Ignorance" to just "Permission to be Exposed". The reason for my change: A few of my friends have vehemently challenged the presumption that this controversy has anything to do with race. Because I respect these friends vehemently, I wanted to change my title. It does not change the fact that I am saddened that my child had to be exposed to the permission slip sent home, the permission slip that caused her to doubt others' value of Obama's words based on his race. (Yes, she did assume that it had something to do with race.) But, I also am saddened that my friends might think that my title accused them of being bigots and ignorant. I titled it to grab attention, but that attention is not worth making others feel belittle by me.

My friends' reasons to shield their children from Obama's speech may, in fact, be completely ideological (which I still have issue with. AND many parents weren't boycotting the lesson plans, they were boycotting the speech itself.) However, I do ask that my friends also consider how my child, and all other American children, have the great privilege to be encouraged by a our first minority president. For most children, this is the first minority role-model who is not an athlete or entertainer. The reason why my child, and many others, might assume it has to do with race is not hard to understand. Never has America chosen to put itself under the leadership of a person of color before (brown, black or purple.) Now that it has, people are refusing to let their children listen to him. Its not a huge stretch. My 9 year old made it.

No, I do not think this is only about race, nor am I the one making it about race. However, it is, in part, about race. I just would like my friends to acknowledge that part, to know that I am understood. That my child's assumptions and fears are understood.

My Vision for Grad School

12 Steps To Getting Admitted into Colleges & Universities in the United States: Playbook on Applying to Colleges and Universities in the US">Im reading a book called 12 Steps to Getting Admitted into College... I will be teaching a course this fall called Academic Orientation: Application and Admissions. The class aims to help international students in the application process to undergraduate and graduate schools in the US. Coincidentally, I will be applying for grad school at the same time I am slated to teach this course. So, all the work I do for my application will actually be count toward my time lesson planning. What better way to lead students than to experience something first hand with them?

Step 1, as encouraged by this book, is to have VISION and PASSION. The chapter encourages the reader to think about what initially motivated them to think about college or a career. The author relates an experience in high school with see a photo of a cyclotron in his middle school physics book. The inscription below the picture said -Courtesy of MIT Nuclear Laboratory. That one photo and that 5 word phrase birthed something in him. Now, I don't know what a cyclotron is, but I get it that it excited him. From that point on, MIT was his destination.

So, what is my vision and where did it start? These are great things to think about. I have always thought it would be fun to be a writer, but it never really occurred to me as a career choice. I don't really no why not. I am always writing little humor columns in my head, re-wording jokes, sequencing events to make the best story-line possible. But, it wasn't until recently that I considered it an option to pursue. What flipped the switch?

Three things really: 1. David Braud. 2. David Sedaris 3. David Bonales.

David Braud is my husband. This summer, Dave and I were discussing grad school. I have mentioned several times this year that I want to go back to school to get a Master's Degree. As Dave and I were discussing different practical options that would further my current professional track, Dave asked, "Why dont you study something you will love to study about, not just something that will help you once youre done?" So, I had to ask myself if the study of urban leadership, social work and ESOL would light my fire. I know the actual jobs that require those degrees and skills would be really exciting, but not necessarily the studies of those things. Anyway, my brain started spinning. Figure drawing? Another foreign language? Writing?

Once I thought it, once the word "writing" scrolled across the screen of my mind, it was done. I wanted to be a writer.

Oddly enough, during the same week Dave gave me the inspiration to do something that excited me, I was given David Sedaris' book Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim. I read the first chapter, and again, it was done. I wanted to be a writer. Sedaris' story, which I am posting here for your enjoyment, included all the things that I believe make a great story: personal experience, provoking thoughts about the human condition and poop. I read it and thought, I think I can do that. I think I want to try.

And then there is David Bonales. He is a third grader in my daughter Ellie's class. She has a bit of a crush on him. I think he is cute and think he probably poops. He hasn't really had anything to do with my vision for grad school, but his name is David and I like to work in three's.

Permission to be Exposed

On Thursday, September 4, 2009, as part of our fall curriculum, we are sending home a permission slip that notifies parents that they will be watching a live televised address to students from the President of the United States. Parents will need to sign this form if they do not want their children to participate in this event.

If you do not want your children to see the permission slip and then have to explain why people won’t let their children watch President Obama, please sign THIS form.

______________ ____________ __________________

Name of Student Grade Parent Signature

Reason you do not want your child to know about the permission slip (please check all that apply):

rI’m afraid of the unspoken message my children might hear: There are many parents who don’t want their kids to be influenced a black man.

rI don’t want to have to explain to my children that parents of their classmates won’t let them listen to others they disagree with.

rI don’t want my children to think that it is legitimate for the Public School System to spend tax money (let alone our precious environmental resources)on all the paper and ink for all the forms sent home making sure to give parents every opportunity to choose something that could potentially harm other children’s faith in humanity.

rI do not want my kids to know that parents in my community, who I am teaching them to trust, are afraid that our elected officials might try to manipulate and brainwash them to believe scary and dangerous PG-13 things.

21st Century Children

My mom is always admonishing me on my parenting. "You are too hard on her," "All she needs is a good spanking," "Dont go giving her excuses for her behavoir," or my personal favorite, "MY kids never acted like that." (As if I wasnt sitting right there, proof-pudding that her parenting style clearly didnt work out as intended.)

She, along with many other grandparents of her generation, do not get the analogy:

apple : oranges :: parenting in the 20th century : parenting in the 21st century.

Okay, so its only been 30 years, give or take a few, since she's done it, but that whole change of century thing is more impactful than she allows. For instance, since she has parented, there have been a few key societal changes, discoveries and inventions that might have altered (just a wee bit) our ENTIRE way of life, let alone the particular job of parenting. Let's see, there's...

1. the desktop comupter (let alone laptops, cell phones and the all-important DS Light)

2. the chickpox vaccine

3. the ADHD diagnosis

4. other remedies for female problems besides hyterectomies

5. gummy bear vitamins

6. the Wii

7. surround sound

8. "time-out"

9. spanx

10. equal rights for women (okay, maybe we are still working on that one)

So, it goes to show that the parenting axiom "spare the rod, spoil the child" may not actually be helpful in the current society where spanking is either illegal or, at the very least, cause for a quick call to DCS. For our generation of parents, the advise our moms give us can be a constant source of angst and confusion. I can almost audibly hear my multiple personalities arguing:

The orthodox/old fashion me: There is NO way a child of ours will behave like that!

The progressive/newly enlightened by current pyschology me: But, is our desire to control our child overpowering our call to love her? What is really at work here?

The redneck me: Damn skippy! That chil' needs to be reigned in fast 'for she's old enough to beat our ass senseless!

And, we (er, I mean, I) do this every time there's a call for parental wisdom. Understanding the needs of today's children is beyond me, and certainly beyond the 1970's model.

Just last week I had a situation come up that called for that very thing wisdom I seem to lack. My 8 year old had a sleep-over. Both girls were very excited and looking forward to a "late" night filled with Mellow Mushroom, Webkins and Poptropica. (See, I already lost most the grandma's out there.) At 9:30, the lights were out and both girls were satisfied with the evening festivities. However, a few moments after I crawled into my pj's, Ellie was at my door, telling me that her sleepover buddy was making too much noise.

Now, its important to know that Ellie is what the older-generation would call paticular. She likes the lights completely off, doors shut, HVAC set between 68-71 degrees (but, she's flexible) and lavender scented eye-mask securely in place before going to sleep. Did I say "likes"? I mean, "needs", as in, "I will not fall asleep even if you threaten to pull out all my eyelashes unless these demands are met" needs. So, when Ellie came to me with this delimna, I was not surprised. Conditions were not perfect for slumbering. I went upstairs and smoothed down the emotional ruffles and re-put the girls the bed.

Not five minutes later, Ellie comes back downstairs and tells us in a slightly higher decibel that she hates her previously christened "best friend in the whole world" because she won't stop moving around in her bed, which she is doing on purpose just to be mean. My husband takes this one (tag-teaming seems a good defensive strategy in the evenings) and proceeds to give Ellie some reasonable options. Could you sleep on the couch if her noises are bugging you? Could you wait for her to fall asleep first before you even try? Why don't you put on a CD and listen to a story? Ellie, so completely offended by this flexible line of reasoning, gives us both a good dose of the stink-eye and stomps off for presumably another go.

Dave and I go back to our books and begin holding our breaths for the next knock at the door. This time, however, the visitor was not Ellie. It was her guest.

Miss Sarah, my OCD is really acting up tonight and Ellie can't handle it.

Come again?

Ha! Bet my mama never heard those words. This calls for the new millennium parenting:

Me: Um, so, what do YOU think we should do?

21st century slumber partier: I think I should just go home.

Me: Do you want to try sleeping on the couch or having Ellie sleep on the couch?

21st century slumber partier: No, I think I'd rather just go home, if you don't mind.

Me: Well, okay. Let me get on some pants and I'll drive you home.

(enter, Ellie)

Ellie: WHAT????!!! She's leaving???? NOOOOOOOOO!!!!! But I wanted to have a sleepover!!!!!! YOU promised me a sleepover!!!!! YOU CANT TAKE HER HOME!!!!

(Dave has to physically restrain our 8 year old)

Me: Ellie, calm down! She just wants to go home. We can get her in the morning and even have her over for pancakes!

Ellie (sputtering and gasping for breath): NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

21st century slumber partier: I know this great therapist that could really help Ellie with her tantrums.

Come again?

Its true. And, in an effort to help Ellie cope with the tragic loss of her sleepover guest, I try to explain to her the OCD disorder in elementary terms.

Me: Your friend has what is called Obssessive-Compulsive Disorder, which means that she is super-worried about some things and then does certain actions or noises to help her not be worried. She cant contol it.

Ellie: Does it come with gas? 'Cause boy did she have some!

Me: Oh boy. Ellie, I am explaining this to you so you can love your friend better. If you understand what she is going through, it'll be easier to care for her. Do you think you can maybe imagine what it would be like to have OCD?

Ellie: Well, I think I might have OCD, too. But only if it comes with PWP.

Me: And what is PWP?

Ellie: Problems with Parents.

I DEFY any and all grandparents to give me the proverb that'll help with that!

___________________________________________________________________

PS. If there are grandparents reading this and are interested in learning the delimnas of post-modern parents, I suggest asking for a reading list. Some current parenting books that are on my list are:

How Children Raise their Parents by Dan Allendar

The Explosive Child by Dr. Ross W Green

What to do when Your Brain Gets Stuck by Dawn Huebner

Of course, due to the fact that I am still completely at a tragic loss about how to parent my 21st century children, I am readily accepting book suggestions as well!

Mystery Solved

What the hell smells like Burger King?? - This has been the question of the month for me. Actually, for the last 5-6 months. Mostly, I ask this question while in my car.

For the first month or so, whenever at a stop light, I would look around my car for any evidence of an actual hamburger. Were there any tell-tale yellow wrappers with an orange sticker shouting, "extra pickle"? Rolled up white bags from my childrens' last happy meals? A trail of leftover barbeque sauce packets that would lead me to that criminal half-eaten Whopper, Jr? Huh-uh. Nada. So, again I ask, What the hell smells like Burger King??

It had to be Dave. What else could it be? My husband had to have farted. Okay, so I smelled that smell when Dave wasnt in the car several times, but maybe he left it there. Maybe his fart was stuck in my car seat. I saw in some movie that when you smell a fart, its actually microscopic pieces of fecal matter floating through the air into your nasal passages. Maybe Dave's fecal particles were prisoners in my seat, unable to escape due to the micofibers locking them in.

One afternoon, as the entire family was in the car, I smelled it again. There it was. Burger King. Of course, initially, I did my whiplash look around to see if, in fact, we were passing a fast-food joint. Nope. So, then, I queried my family, Does anyone smell Burger King?

Them: Huh?

Me: Dave, baby, did you fart?

Dave: No.

Atticus: Mom said fart!

Me: Seriously, who farted?

Them: Not me!

Me: Do y'all not smell that?

Them: Smell what?

Me: You know, Burger King?

Them: Huh?

My quest continued, as did the mystery smell. Until one night while putting Ellie to bed I smelled it again. There it was. Clear as day. No mistaking... Burger King. In my 8 year olds room. Except, this time, I wasnt the only one who smelled it. Ellie did too. Whew! Mom, you stink! It was me? No! But, there, I saw it. A sirloin fog emitting from under my arms. I see in my head all these green squiggly marks coming out from under your arms, like in a cartoon, Ellie noted in a very concerned voice. I smelled my pits just to verify. Yep, it was me. I smelled like Burger King.

The most interesting thing about that revelation was, in the instant I had it, I had a flashback of a critical moment of my past. When I was about 12 years old, my family was vacationing with our best friends in New Smyrna Beach, Florida. As a day trip, we went to Sea World. Sea World was great, except that we chose the hottest day of the summer to go. All 7 kids were piled into the back of my mom's Volvo station wagon (back in the day when there were no seat belt laws limiting this kind of uber-fun). Stacey, who happened to be smashed right next to me, curled her lip and asked in the most accuatory way, "What the hell smells like Burger King??" Then she looked right at me and declared, "You have BO. You reek!" My day at Sea World was ruined. All I smelled all day long was my BO. And it did, in fact, smell just like Burger King. Puberty had hit and it hit with a beefy stench and I was mortified.

So, why in the world, at age 36, I am now again smelling like a BK Broiler? After all these years of body odor, why is it suddenly changing back to my pubescent scent? Are my hormones changing? Are my chemicals unbalanced? Is this menapause?? Why the hell do I smell like Burger King??

As I was lamenting these questions the other night at dinner with some friends, one of the dinner guests noted that she, also, had experienced her own recent rankness. However, hers was at the hands of a deoderant. Tom's Lavendar Deoderant, that is. The same exact kind I have been using for the past 6 months! Praise the Lord! I'm saved! The mystery has been solved! Its not me! I dont smell like rancid ground beef! At least, not without help! Several other women at the table concurred. Tom's Lavendar Deoderant actually left you smelling much worse. Like rotten lavendar. I cant tell you how relieved I am.

I have stopped using my healthy, aluminum-free, non-cancer causing deoderant. I am back on my aluminum saturated, pore-blocking, toxic building, cancer-causing antiperspirant and loving it. I am burger-free.

I guess the new mystery is, why, after all this, do I still crave Whopper, Jrs. with extra pickle?

Sell-out or Worn-out?

As we are now in limbo, living with friends back in our home town of Franklin, TN, I walk around doing the slow-Southern-daily-life-thing with great existential questions running around in my brain at warp speed. What are we doing with our lives? What do we want to do? Is it really about what we want? What is God calling us to? Is there really such a thing as a unique call or do we all just get the general call to love God and each other during whatever journey we are handed?

I kind of thought we made a decision to trust our minimal understanding of these questions and head back home.  We loved life in the city: the grit, the culture, the cleaning out of some cob-webbed parts of our brains where Southern culture allowed us to collect dust. We lived where we were needed. Why should all the people with resources-financial, social, systemic, and otherwise- congregate in the cozy neighborhoods while those without voices are crammed into the dirty spaces left in between? 

One of our reasons for going into the city was pictured in a metaphor that many urban missionaries are drawn in by: if there was a tree fallen in the road and 9 people were carrying one side and only 1 on the other, which side would you go to? That made sense to us. We wanted to help on the side that needed it. The city-side. Lets face it, it is easier to love your neighbors if they dont really need anything from you. So, we chose the city and could barely imagine ourselves ever wanting to return to our quaint Americana village of Franklin, where all those helper-outers were. 

But, after much emotional angst and equally emotional prayer, we decided that after 5 years in Philly, we would move home. Im not sure if it was our desire to live out the next season of life close to my family overshadowed our desire to be a conduit of change in the world that led us to our decision. (I hope not) But, I think it was a mixture of many things that when parsed out seems to not make that much sense. Is is about not wanting to raise my kids in the city, filled with danger and the unknown? (Philly is one of the leading cities in numbers of murders, but also has a phenomenally diverse population with rich history and culture.) Is it because life in the ministry was stressful and I wasnt sure if my not sleeping well had to do with that, living in the city or just my age? (I am getting older and I think my mom doesnt sleep well either).  I dont have a great reason, but I think I decided that it was okay that I didnt have a perfectly wrapped answer. It just felt like time to come home. Right or wrong. Good or bad. Sell-out or just plain worn-out. 

Dave reminded me often (in my most angsty moments) that at the end of the day, God was still in control. His world was not going to fall apart if we made the wrong choice. His will for our lives wasnt going to be thwarted by our moving. God is still God, whether in Philly or Franklin. (Those are the moments when I most clearly remember why I married Dave.) Although it sounds awfully oedipal, Dave reminds me of my dad. Just a few weeks ago, when the buyers of our house found out that their mortgage fell through for the second time, Dad told me to not bother Jesus by praying about it. "He's asleep at the back of the boat. Its all under control. If he's not worried about it, neither should you." Not exactly the most solid theology ever preached (I mean, whoever heard of someone preachin' that you shouldn't pray), but its faith-filled simplicity comforted me. Yeah, if Jesus isnt worried, why should I? 

My goal of writing this post was to maybe help myself out of my current angst ridden brain and back into sanity. My questions are still not answered really, but my heart is calmed. Where will we live? Where will we work? What should we invest our time in? Who should we reconnect with? Can we change the world from here? What if we end up just caring about soccer season and making fruit tea for Cousin Mae's baby shower? Shhhh. Details. Details. Jesus is napping.