Pink, It’s Not Just for Girls Anymore

You don’t need a calendar to determine the season. Simply watch the décor at retailers. Pink, yellow and green – it’s April. Red, white and blue – July. Orange and black – October. Green and red – December. And if the Ravens are doing well – its Purple Friday here in Baltimore each week in January.

In recent years, pink has replaced orange in October, for Breast Cancer Awareness month. Store windows, publications and numerous products, sport pink ribbons or new pink packaging to raise money and awareness.

Pink controversy has arisen with one non-profit’s sale of pink cancer awareness bracelets reading: “I love Boobies.” Designed to raise teen awareness of Breast Cancer and spark conversation, these bracelets are popping up in middle schools and high schools across the country. The campaign is working, but the conversation is not. Schools are banning them and civil rights activists are rallying.

Teenage boys, in many schools, outnumber teenage girls wearing the “I love Boobies” bracelets. Do some have other motives?
Of course they do, they’re teenagers. That is to be expected.
Take the conversation off the words and onto the topic. Breast Cancer kills over 40,000 women each year – mothers, sisters, daughters, friends, neighbors.

I urge school administrators to keep talking, but talk about early detection, treatment and research, not about dress codes and foul language. Boobies, breasts, bust, bosom – these are not dirty words. I say let the boys wear bracelets!

Freedom of Speech

I love 3 year-olds and 90 year-olds. They each tell it like it is.

One’s youthful innocence provides fascinating uninhibited opinion on a variety of topics. “Aunt Mary, how come you have white hairs in your head?” The other, having the reached the I’m-too-old-to-care-what-people-think stage, can give new meaning to the words open communication. As in, “That dress does nothing for you.”

I’m stuck squarely in the middle of the bite-your-tongue-stage, strictly prohibiting me from statements like: “You’re not wearing that tie, are you?” Freedom of speech can be highly overrated, and sometimes, it can get you in a lot of hot water.

Last week, in Towson Maryland, Freedom of Speech, proved its usefulness. The Westboro Baptist Church rallied along York Road to protest Towson High School’s Gay-Straight Alliance club. The mature intellect of the Towson High student body outclassed them beyond compare. THS students, over 300 strong, launched a peaceful anti-protest which gave new meaning to the Bible verse “Love one another as I have loved thee.”

This group from Kansas, who call themselves Christians, never had a chance. Their attempts to stir up hatred fell flat. I beamed with pride at the fantastic youth in our community. Clearly they have learned tolerance, acceptance and patience. Such incredible leaders for tomorrow.

Hope for a Monstrosity You Can Live With

Time has proven that change is generally good for us, whether that change is in our national government, in our cities or in our own backyards.

My neighbors in Towson, Maryland are up in arms over a proposed expansion of the sports arena at Towson University. The planned “monstrosity” (as a friend refers to it) looms over a nearby residential neighborhood, one where I use to live. The University President spoke at a gathering last night, reminding attendees that TU has been a good neighbor over the decades. He implied it was time for local residents to be a little more neighborly in return.

Someone really needs to have a little chat with that man. The old “you catch more bees with honey” speech might do him some good right about now.

That said, sports is big business. Our economy needs jobs and companies willing to invest in the future. Here, we have a strong local institution that is expanding rather than shrinking. Perhaps they should build this new grand arena, but who am I to say? It’s not in my back yard.

I don't think the real issue is about whether the arena expansion is a good idea. I think the real issue is about being heard. So often, people push their own agendas, rather than considering compromises that address valid concerns. In the end, I believe the greater good of economic stimulation will prevail. I just hope the neighbors end up with a monstrosity they can live with.

There’s a petition circulating to stop TU. I’ll probably sign it – in solidarity with my former neighbors. But I can’t help thinking about a story I heard last week.

A friend shared how an elderly relative, a native Baltimorean, was up in arms 25 years ago over a proposed new development in downtown Baltimore. She couldn’t understand why everyone wanted to renovate the Inner Harbor. She thought the proposed National Aquarium was a ridiculous notion. “If I want to see fish – I’ll go to Woolworths!” she said.

Are you called to be a Helicopter Parent?

I wanted to be a Helicopter Parent – really I did.

I wanted to read every book the English teacher ever assigned, so I could have discussions with my son at the dinner table. I wanted to bone up on my algebra and geometry, so I could check my daughter's math homework for accuracy. I just didn’t have the time.

I wanted to be at school every day helping out in the office or in the art room. I wanted to be the volunteer parent who knows all the teachers and administrators by name. I had to be at work instead.

I wanted to be the parent who called the teacher to task when they treated a child unfairly. I wanted to say “Hey – I know your job is tough, but can you try a little harder, because these are our children.” My children asked me to me keep my mouth shut.

I couldn’t be a Helicopter Parent, but I’m glad someone was there to answer the call.

Baby boomers have brought a lot of improvements to parenting – relationships are more open and honest. Tough topics are discussed, rather than hidden in the closet. Parents are more proactive. They no longer release their children to the unknown at school, on the sports field or elsewhere, trusting the best will happen. When they send their babies off to college, they don’t simply cross their fingers and pray. Now, the connections remain and the discussions continue.

I do still highly recommend crossing your fingers and praying when you send them off to college. With such abounding freedom, much can happen when you’re not around.

Sure, some parents go overboard. I’ve heard the stories of parents confronting coaches about playing time, challenging teachers on their choices of test questions or contacting bosses about performance reviews. But let’s put this in perspective. Going a bit overboard is not unique to parenting.

Have you seen the folks with way too many Christmas decorations on their lawns? Did you ever have a neighbor who took in every stray cat she found? Who doesn’t have a friend or colleague who is a tad over-attentive to their car?

I think Helicopter Parents have gotten a bad rap. Quite frankly, I thank them - for insisting on accountability, fairness and honesty. Applied in moderation, they can be quite beneficial. It’s too late for me to become a Helicopter Parent, my kids are almost grown. But it might not be too late for you.

Survival Skills for Back-to-School Night

My back-to-school night blog launched a myriad of discussions. Some folks shared stories. Others expressed surprise that I still attended these, 20 years, 3 children and some 50 visits later. Still others asked my advice, as they too march toward this same milestone. “How do you survive 50 of these?” they ask.

I believe knowledge is worthless unless shared. So, here I offer you my top 5 tips for surviving 50 back-to-school nights.

1. Review the school floor plan with your child in advance. Be sure to find out which route and staircase your child uses to navigate between classes. (If you’ve ever tried to get to a 4th floor classroom at Towson High, you know what I’m talking about.) You don’t want to be late. Then, the teacher remembers you, and not in a good way.

2. Time your arrival at the school for a smidge after the PTSA elections, but just before they run out of the $5 school directories. (Sorry, If I'm offending any PTA members, but does anyone ever contest these elections? Have you ever heard anyone speak up when they ask “opposed?” Never happens. Just skip it. Trust me, everyone will be elected and the budget will be passed.) Use your time more wisely. Go home after work. Grab a bite to eat. Change into something comfortable. Then head over to school. It's OK really.

3. Remember school is a social environment for parents as well as students. Take the time to stop in the hallway, say hello, chit-chat or high-five your friends. Socialization is the cornerstone of back-to-school night survival.

4. Ask your child which friends they have in each class. This lets you know which parents to look for. After all, you need someone to sit with in the back of the classroom and whisper to as the teacher drones on. I mean really - what are they sharing in a 3 ½ minute session that you did not already read on some take-home paper last week?

5. Always go for the extra credit. Sign the parent sign-in sheet, pretend to take notes and be sure to introduce yourself to the teacher before you leave. Your child will get good-parent bonus points for this. Trust me, they’ll need it. You don’t know what they are doing every minute of every day and really, you don’t want to know. Just go for the bonus points.

My daughter said, “Mom, what if there are teachers who read your blog?” I said, “You know honey, your teachers are wiser than you think. Trust me, they have their own private list of back-to-school-night survival skills.”

Perhaps one day, a teacher will share these with me. If so, I’ll be sure to post them on my blog. After all, I believe knowledge is worthless unless shared.

I'm With Stupid

If you have teenagers, you know by now that you are stupid. Your life experiences are meaningless. They add up to zilch, nada, nothing. You can’t remind them to pick up the pace or they’ll be late without getting the “eye-roll.” Translation: “Duh! I know.” You can’t offer study help after a bad test score without getting the “open-mouthed stare.” Translation: “Like you would know?!” You can’t suggest they wear a coat in January, without getting the “slumped shoulders-grunt.” Translation: “Leave me alone.”

It can be enough to make a parent see red. It can be enough to make one wonder where one went wrong. Or, it can motivate you to try a different tact.

Three teenagers and repeated reminders of my apparent stupidity, led me to retaliate one day with a little help from the comic strip Charlie Brown. Remember the classroom scenes? The invisible teacher never spoke actual words, just the muted trombone sounds - "mwa, mwa, mwa.”

“Yea, I know mwa, mwa, mwa, mwa-mwa, mwa-mwa,” I said one day, with my hands making exaggerated yakity-yak gestures in the air, “just take the coat.” Surprisingly, this worked. I had their attention. My kids laughed and they listened.

I used this ice-breaker, and others, many times over the years. Life’s too short to waste time on power struggles. If you ever feel like your teenager is wearing an invisible “I’m With Stupid” shirt and standing next to you, you are probably right. I say go buy yourself an “I am Stupid” shirt, stand next to them and have a good laugh.