Interesting article from the New York Times

Why Aren’t We Shocked? - New York Times

October 16, 2006

OP-ED COLUMNIST

Why Aren’t We Shocked?
By BOB HERBERT

“Who needs a brain when you have these?”
— message on an Abercrombie & Fitch T-shirt for young women

In the recent shootings at an Amish schoolhouse in rural Pennsylvania and a large public high school in Colorado, the killers went out of their way to separate the girls from the boys, and then deliberately attacked only the girls. Ten girls were shot and five killed at the Amish school. One girl was killed and a number of others were molested in the Colorado attack. In the widespread coverage that followed these crimes, very little was made of the fact that only girls were targeted. Imagine if a gunman had gone into a school, separated the kids up on the basis of race or religion, and then shot only the black kids. Or only the white kids. Or only the Jews. There would have been thunderous outrage. The country would have first recoiled in horror, and then mobilized in an effort to eradicate that kind of murderous bigotry. There would have been calls for action and reflection. And the attack would have been seen for what it really was: a hate crime.

None of that occurred because these were just girls, and we have become so accustomed to living in a society saturated with misogyny that violence against females is more or less to be expected. Stories about the rape, murder and mutilation of women and girls are staples of the news, as familiar to us as weather forecasts. The startling aspect of the Pennsylvania attack was that this terrible thing happened at a school in Amish country, not that it happened to girls.

The disrespectful, degrading, contemptuous treatment of women is so pervasive and so mainstream that it has just about lost its ability to shock. Guys at sporting events and other public venues have shown no qualms about raising an insistent chant to nearby women to show their breasts. An ad for a major long-distance telephone carrier shows three apparently naked women holding a billing statement from a competitor. The text asks, “When was the last time you got screwed?” An ad for Clinique moisturizing lotion shows a woman’s face with the lotion spattered across it to simulate the climactic shot of a porn video.

We have a problem. Staggering amounts of violence are unleashed on women every day, and there is no escaping the fact that in the most sensational stories, large segments of the population are titillated by that violence.

We’ve been watching the sexualized image of the murdered 6-year-old JonBenet Ramsey for 10 years. JonBenet is dead. Her mother is dead. And we’re still watching the video of this poor child prancing in
lipstick and high heels.

What have we learned since then? That there’s big money to be made from thongs, spandex tops and sexy makeovers for little girls. In a misogynistic culture, it’s never too early to drill into the minds of girls that what really matters is their appearance and their ability to please men sexually. A girl or woman is sexually assaulted every couple of minutes or so in the U.S. The number of seriously battered wives and girlfriends is far beyond the ability of any agency to count. We’re all implicated in this carnage because the relentless violence against women and girls is linked at its core to the wider society’s casual willingness to dehumanize women and girls, to see them first and foremost as sexual vessels — objects — and never, ever as the equals of men.


“Once you dehumanize somebody, everything is possible,” said Taina Bien-Aimé, executive director of the women’s advocacy group Equality Now. That was never clearer than in some of the extreme forms of pornography that have spread like nuclear waste across mainstream America. Forget the embarrassed, inhibited raincoat crowd of the old days. Now Mr. Solid Citizen can come home, log on to this $7 billion mega-industry and get his kicks watching real women being beaten and sexually assaulted on Web sites with names like “Ravished Bride” and “Rough Sex— Where Whores Get Owned.” Then, of course, there’s gangsta rap, and the video games where the players themselves get to maul and molest women, the rise of pimp culture (the Academy Award-winning song this year was “It’s Hard Out Here for a Pimp”), and on and on.

You’re deluded if you think this is all about fun and games. It’s all part of a devastating continuum of misogyny that at its farthest extreme touches down in places like the one-room Amish schoolhouse in normally quiet Nickel Mines, Pa.

Copyright 2006 The New York Times Company

My high school friends

We are a rare group. I thought it then, I think it now.

I recently went out to dinner with some girls I've known since high school. Wait, correction. One I met in sixth grade but the other three, I have known since FIRST grade. First grade...can you believe that? I think part of what amazes me about that is that my son is in first grade. I look at his friends and wonder if he'll even REMEMBER the friends he has now, much less be meeting them for mexican food and beers in 26 years. People just don't stay in the same neighborhoods anymore -- or the same school district.

Growing up, I always considered guys better friends than girls, especially in high school. While I was part of a large circle of girlfriends, I really only stuck on to two of them. Now that I am older, my friends are primarily women -- all of those women. These are women who have gone on to marry, have kids, or have life experiences similar to mine. We talk about everything that matters and even more about stuff that doesn't. Luckily, many of those women are a huge part of my history. They are my comfort zone, my safety net...they make me laugh and let me cry. Friends. Old friends.

Doesn't get much better than that.

And the sun shines..........

Here is a picture Joel took of Dane in California this weekend. I LOVE THIS PICTURE!

November rain -- Guns n Roses

When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain

We've been through this such a long long time
Just tryin' to kill the pain
But lovers always come and lovers always go
An no one's really sure who's lettin' go today
Walking away
If we could take the time to lay it on the line
I could rest my head
Just knowin' that you were mine
All mine
So if you want to love me
then darlin' don't refrain
Or I'll just end up walkin'
In the cold November rain

Do you need some time...on your own?
Do you need some time...all alone?
Everybody needs some time...on their own
Don't you know you need some time...all alone

I know it's hard to keep an open heart
When even friends seem out to harm you
But if you could heal a broken heart
Wouldn't time be out to charm you?

Sometimes I need some time...on my own
Sometimes I need some time...all alone
Everybody needs some time...on their own
Don't you know you need some time...all alone

And when your fears subside
And shadows still remain,
I know that you can love me
When there's no one left to blame
So never mind the darkness
We still can find a way
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
Even cold November rain

Yep, that's broccoli folks

My boys are crazy....Seriously--

"Mom, can we have broccoli with lemon juice...."

"uh, yep."

They ate it all up...one snack....

beautiful

proud mommy moment....

so sue me.

This on top of a couple days ago they quietly ate the snacks of their dreams...Dane had a bowl of Lemon wedges...and Cole a bowl of raw mushrooms.

Nice.

Life should be lived in reverse

How great would this be:

I think the life cycle is all backwards. One should die first,
start out dead and get it out of the way.

Then you wake up in a nursing home, feeling better every day.

You get kicked out for being too healthy, go collect your pension,

then, when you start work, you get a gold watch on your first day.

You work 40 years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement.

You drink alcohol, you party, you're generally promiscuous and you get ready for High School.

You go to primary school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a baby,

then, you spend your last 9 months floating peacefully with luxuries like central heating, spa, room service on tap, larger quarters everyday,

and finally you finish off as an orgasm.

I rest my case

*****************************************************************************

I just wanted to add that while I was googling an appropriate image for "orgasm" to include here (oh so many inappropriate ones) I stumbled upon this book.....LOL, I'm guessing it's not a best seller....



and she signs off laughting............................

An interesting read -- especially to me, the mom of a first grader

The New First Grade: Too Much Too Soon?:

Two years ago, Joel and I began discussing whether Dane was ready for kindergarten or if we should hold him back one more year. Dane's birthday is in July, so that means either he would be one of the youngest in his class, or one of the oldest. We weighed our options -- the reasons we wanted him to begin kindergarten (he was academically ready) and why we wanted him to stay back (He had no formal schooling previously, only an in home preschool, and he was little for his age). Ultimately, for us, we decided to put him in kindergarten because we wanted him to be in a different grade level than his cousin. It had nothing to do with all the other stuff. We were very satisfied with Dane's kindergarten experience. He played and he learned. It was the way it should have been and his teacher was the perfect combination of structure and love.

Well, now Dane is in first grade. And, to put it bluntly, first grade is a whole different animal. This article hits it on the head.

Instead of story time, finger painting, tracing letters and snack, first graders are spending hours doing math work sheets and sounding out words in reading groups. In some places, recess, music, art and even social studies are being replaced by writing exercises and spelling quizzes. Kids as young as 6 are tested, and tested again, some every 10 days or so, to ensure they're making sufficient progress. After school, there's homework, and for some, educational videos, more workbooks and tutoring, to help give them an edge.

It all gives me a pit in my stomach. Dane came home from his second day of school with his worksheets. One of them was a coloring exercise to which I was amazed by how well he colored.



You see, my Dane is not a great colorer. He just doesn't really care about it. He colors what he wants, where he wants and moves on. Well, this piece was done very well. "Dane, this is really good." I turned around assuming he'd be all proud and happy, and he said, "throw it away" and that he "hated it". Well, after talking about it...I was told he had to REDO it. That his teacher told him it wasn't done well enough. That he had to WORK HARDER at it. I literally felt my heart sink. Tell me, why does anyone feel that they can tell my kid how to color? To COLOR!!? And, moreso, make him feel that way?

I don't mean to come down on Dane's teacher. We've discussed this incident, as well as other things that have come up (Dane is extremely hard on himself) and she really IS great. But the fact is, she HAS to be like this. She HAS to be sure that my child is up to par in all areas of academic because her job.. In many ways her livelihood in job terms, rests on my 6 year old son's shoulders. Dane needs to know how to read, how to do math, how to frickin color right or she looks like a bad teacher.

or worse...

My son falls behind in the years to come.

What's the answer? Man, I don't know. It's a toss up between pushing hard enough that he gets challenged and pushing too hard that he gets frustrated and burned out. I guess every kid is different. Every parent is different. And every academic situation is different. For me, I'll love my kid. I want Dane to be a kid. A happy go lucky kid. I'll let him guide his own learning. Dane loves to read. He doesn't work at it like some kids do. He is proud of himself and keeps on going. So I'm going to tell him he's great, doing beautifully and is wonderful. I'm going to be his best advocate, his best cheerleader. And when he comes home with a 100 on his spelling test, or a picture that is colored out of the lines, he's going to know that it's perfect and I LOVE IT.

That's all we can do folks. Love 'em and hope for the best.

Sometimes you just can't win

A day in the life of....

I'm just me...

it's hard to be anything other than yourself.

Boy that's deep.

I've been in a period of self reflection lately. I suppose it's a combination of a difficulties with Joel, friends going thru tough times and simply getting older. I don't have the time, nor the energy, to be reflecting, which I guess is probably what makes this THE right time to do it.

Why do I run in so many directions? Why do I have my hand stiring so many pots? Why am I *that* friend?

I don't know the answer to any of those questions. What I do know is that it is really important for me to be surrounded with people who are happy -- and that sometimes comes at a price. I would bend over backwards for my friends. It's much easier for me to be there for them and put my life on the back burner. I would argue that this sort of friendship has the potential to pay me back ten fold. I would hope that in a moment of need that I would be able to turn to my friends and they would drop everything to help me.

But would they?

And really, would I let them?