dearest daughters

The season of "I wants"

Dearest Daughters,

The chorus of "I wants" has begun.

And it's publicly known that I'm a mean mom. That is, what you want is probably not what you'll get.

You'll get something made of wood. Something practical. Maybe a hammer. Or a rubber mallet, to be on the safe side. And extremely helpful in assembling IKEA furniture.

I might be a practical gift-giver, but I'm no dream crusher. I let you circle toy Slurpee Machines and Barbie Mansions in the Sunday ad.

(My Little Consumer: So Cute! from Lauren Gibbs-Beadle on Vimeo. Last year, Bel perusing the Toys 'R Us ad.)

I ask you what you what you like about the helium-filled remote control shark. And what you imagine you'd do with that talking fur ball toy.

And, I'll admit, sometimes I get a little sassy. Like: why do you think you need that play kitchen when you already have a perfectly good one?

Mostly, I say: put it on your list. Then, we don't have to discuss it any further.

And as long as you're looking, I suggest that you look less for things you want and more for things that you think your family and friends would want. And I try not to say anything when you propose that your Baby Cousin wants a Power Wheels Hummer.

It seems like a little bit of a parenting set-up to expect us to teach you about gratitude and thankfulness in November with Christmas taunting, bejeweled and flashing, around every corner.

I know the right answer is that it's that much more important to teach you about gratitude when Christmas is around the corner. And when Advent comes, it'll be a whole 'nother round of moral messaging, waiting for baby Jesus to get here.

There are lots of things that I've tried to do to teach you to be thankful for what you have, not only during the holiday season, but every day. Only a few have really stuck.

The first one I learned about from Bel's Ninong because he does it with his girls--but Dr. Christine Carter talks about it in her book, my parenting bible, Raising Happiness: 10 Simple Steps for More Joyful Kids and Happier Parents. That's where I got the other ideas, below, too.

Talk about kindness. Every night at dinner (okay, almost every night) I ask you what kind thing you did today and if there was a kind thing someone did for you. Usually, the answer for both is "playing nicely."

It's also a time for me to think about my day. If I was thankful enough for the kind things others did for me--if I was even aware of the kind things.

In our society, especially, where we pay for goods and services, we tend to think that we are entitled to things; that we deserve to be treated a certain way, as we order our non-fat lattes and such. Simultaneously, all civility has been thrown out the window, such that when a stranger holds a door for you or smiles, it seems the exception to the rule.

Sometimes, it's difficult for me to identify any kindness in my day.

Talk explicitly about those who have less than us.  And not just in a vague, threatening I'm-going-to-give-your-toys-to-other-children way (though that does happen out of I-stepped-on-another-abandoned-toy frustration.) But, when teachable moments arise, we talk about suffering, pain, poverty, homelessness, hunger and, even, death.

We want to protect our children, to shield them, to hurry past the panhandlers and the people whose demons cry out to us on the street. As adults, it's easy to ignore these things. But, my children see them anyway.

So, we talk about them. And I don't always have the words or answers. And I rarely have a solution or any idea of what to say or do next. But, for now, the important thing is that you girls know that many folks don't have what we have and to develop your empathy, to teach you to be considerate of others (at all times), and to provide you with opportunities to feel compassion.

Source: kwavs.blogspot.com via Lauren on Pinterest

(blessing bags from Pinterest, something we've done before)

Flip your assumptions on their head. The other thing I've done in the past that helps to teach you gratitude is to address your ingratitude, your assumptions, the things you take for granted.

When you start acting sassy, entitled, demanding--spoiled--I try not to indulge you.

I'll give you the three-year-old occasional mis- and over-usage of absolutes, like always and never. But, when you say, "Mommy you always make dinner" or "I always get a sweet snack after dinner" or "I never have to do garbage chores because Daddy does them" or you just aren't saying please and thank you--that's exactly the moment where I don't make dinner, you don't get a sweet snack, you put the recylcing out, or you don't get what you want.

It sounds harsh, not making you dinner, but it gives you the opportunity to do something kind for me, making peanut butter sandwiches or tortilla pizzas for dinner. And you're much more appreciative the next day.

 

There's not much that I want, I'm not from a family that made Christmas lists or wrote to Santa. That's mostly because I wanted for nothing.

As a child (and even today), whenever I asked Lola what she wanted for her birthday or Christmas, she always replied that she wanted "happy children." I suppose she means not only a child who is joyful, who is fulfilled by what she does, but also a child who has no reason to be discontented, who appreciates, with wonder and thankfulness all that she has.

On my list this year is: happy children, kind and compassionate children, considerate and grateful children.

Doesn't seem like much, and yet it does.

To quote your Uncle Bruce's benediction that he has used over the past couple decades of his ministry:

"Go forth into the world
With compassion and justice in your heart
Give strength to the weak
Give voice to the silent
See one another
Hear one another
Care for one another
And love one another
It’s all that easy
And it’s all that hard"

Love,

From Your Experienced, Thoughtful and Faithful Lolopop

Dearest Daughters,

I'm a woman, I'm a person of color, I'm biracial/bi-cultural, I'm a Californian, I'm well-educated, I've traveled the world and beheld poverty and violence and extreme wealth, I've taught it Watts, I was once a vegetarian and I believe supremely, above all else, in the Two Greatest Commandments to love God and love your neighbor (no matter what)... so you might be able to construe many things about me and my politics.

While I hope that not only my mind, but also my heart and my faith show in the letters that I write to you, I don't get too political too often.

And, yes, the election is coming up. And I will exercise my right and privilege to vote. But, I'm not posting the following because of Proposition 34 itself. Mine is not a blog to convince anyone of anything. But it is a place to share words of wisdom.

As such, here is Lolopop's letter to Auntie Merissa about an upcoming California proposition that would repeal capital punishment.

You won't be old enough to vote for 15 (and 16) years, so read this not as a voter guide, but as a letter to you from my Daddy, your Lolopop, sharing his life experience, his thoughtfulness and his faith.

 

(Me as a baby. Oh wait, I mean the wise woman and man to whom I was born.)

 

Letter to Merissa about Proposition 34 Repealing Capital Punishment [originally published here]

My niece, Merissa recently wrote to me asking my opinion on Proposition 34, which would replace capital punishment (i.e. "the death penalty) with a sentence of Life without Possibility of Parole.  With her permission, following is the response I wrote:

To Merissa, my sweet and amazing niece, who I helped raise from the day you were born:

I am flattered that you asked for my opinion on California Proposition 34, which would replace the capital punishment (i.e. "the death penalty") with a sentence of Life without Possibility of Parole. As you know, I worked as a peace officer in California Prisons for 23 years. Since I was your neighbor for 10 of those years, you probably remember that I did not wear a uniform. That is because I was not a "guard" (they actually prefer to be called Correctional Officers). I'd tell you my official title, but that wouldn't tell you much about what I did. My job was like a Parole Officer, except I worked with inmates in the prisons before they were released, rather than afterward. So I worked directly with inmates daily, often getting to know their background, substance abuse history and criminal history very well; understand their attitudes towards their crimes and their victims; and get to know them individually.

You might think because of my experience that I would support capital punishment. At first I did. Partly because I felt that, for my safety and that of other peace officers, there needs to be an ultimate penalty for killing a peace officer. If someone is already serving life in prison, what do they have to lose by killing me? Or somebody who has committed a horrible crime and is facing arrest and a lengthy term, what do they have to lose by killing the police officer who is trying to arrest them? And shouldn't it be a really bad penalty for those who commit the most heinous crimes?

But over the years my work helped change the way I looked at capital punishment. But more importantly, my work forced me to really look to my faith for answers to everyday problems I faced working in the prisons. Many people I worked with became very jaded and cynical from working with the worst of criminals who end up in prison. It's hard to explain to someone who hasn't worked in a prison or jail, but it's like the people guarding the prison see and read so much bad stuff that they lose faith in human nature. Over time they become a little like the people they guard, not criminally, but psychologically. I saw this right away in others who worked there for years before me, and I didn't want to end up like them. I had no where else to turn, but my faith, for inspiration to go to work everyday, and to make the hundreds of little decisions that would define me as either a cynical person or a person of faith. And if I relied on my faith for the little decisions, then what about the big questions? I had to ask myself, as a Christian, what do I believe about killing? Well, based on my experience with criminals AND my personal faith journey, here are five reasons I can give you for opposing capital punishment:

1)  You can't get around it, the Bible clearly says killing is wrong. It doesn't provide for any exceptions. No wiggle room there.  I think the only possible exception is if you kill someone in the defense of your life or another's life, but the Bible doesn't even give you that. And it doesn't work to ignore the issue and pretend you're not responsible because you're not the one "pulling the switch." It's like being opposed to killing animals but eating steak.  As a member of our society, if you don't oppose the death penalty then you are just as guilty of killing the condemned person as the people on the jury who imposed it, the judge who allows it, the prison staff who facilitate it and the person who "pulls the switch."  Some Christians quote the Old Testament to justify capital punishment, but it's mostly God who goes around killing people and we are not God.  The other's who kill also do a lot of other bad things, so you can't say it's okay to kill because King David did it.

2)  Contrary to arguments of some, capital punishment does NOT deter anybody from committing murder.  I have talked to hundreds of murderers in detail about their motives for committing murder, and NOT ONE of them ever said they were thinking they'd get caught, much less that they might be put to death.  They were a) Overwhelmed with anger at the victim for some reason and couldn't stop themselves; or b) They committed the murder in the course of committing another crime, like a robbery gone bad, and never thought it would come to murder; or c) They are criminally insane and either driven by their inner demons to take someones life, they are incapable of feeling any remorse for their victims, or they don't think laws apply to them.

Sure, you could argue that the ones that were deterred wouldn't be in prison.  But I am convinced that my experience says something basic about human nature:  Most of us stop short of taking someone's life, regardless of the provocation.  Then there are those who may understand murder is wrong, but in a moment of anger or in a specific situation or because they just don't care about life, they lack the self control to stop. You can debate about what caused them to be like this: Is it genetics, upbringing, childhood trauma... But  in the situation or moment, nothing would have deterred them because they weren't thinking about being caught.

If you think about it, what does it mean when you say someone can be deterred from committing murder by any form of punishment?  Do we think murder is like jaywalking...if we think the police aren't looking it is OK? What kind of person thinks "Gee, I'm thinking I need to murder my wife, but I don't know...if I get caught I might be killed!  I guess I better not do that!"  If one believes people are like this, then I will pray for them because they have a really nihilistic view of people and the world.  My experience with criminals is that 90% are not violent.  They may sell drugs or steal your car stereo to support their drug habit, but if faced with getting caught and sent to prison, they submit to arrest rather than try to kill the officer to escape.  For them, it is like when we jaywalk, except their line of acceptable behavior is a little more extreme.

3) There is absolutely no question that capital punishment wastes tax dollars.  There is something called "Life without Possibility of Parole" which means that they will NEVER be released from prison under any circumstances.  We could house every inmate on "death row" in a normal maximum security prison for the rest of their natural lives for less than it costs to house inmates on death row, especially when you add in all the costs of handling the numerous appeals filed on behalf of death row inmates.  Some people argue that if we limited their appeals and killed them faster, it would save money.  But when you consider the number of inmates who have been sentenced to death and subsequently acquitted, if we are going to have capital punishment we MUST allow exhaustive appeals for every death row inmate to minimize the chance that an innocent person is executed.  Anyway, it is the nature of our justice system that the convicted have the right to appeal.  The alternative is a Russian style justice system where guilt is usually determined BEFORE the trial.

4)  Speaking of innocent people being found guilty of murder and sentenced to death:  There are proven cases where, despite the appellate system, innocent people have been executed.  There was a man in Texas last year whose innocence was clearly proven after his trial but, never-the-less, he was executed after the Supreme Court refused to permit any more appeals and the Governor refused to grant a pardon.  What is the moral cost to us, the stain on our souls, if we allow EVEN ONE innocent person to be executed on our behalf?  Life without Parole can be reversed if the person is subsequently acquitted.  Death cannot be reversed.

5)  Even if none of the above are persuasive, consider this:  THE JUSTICE SYSTEM IS RACIST!!!  I've seen the result first hand. Blacks and Latinos are far more likely to be arrested, receive a stiffer plea-bargain offers, go to prison, and yes, to receive capital punishment than are whites.  People of color receive far greater sentences than white people who commit the same crime under the same circumstances.  The causes are many.  Among them:  Inner-city predominantly Black and Latino people usually do not have the resources to hire a good private attorney to represent them; instead they are stuck with an overworked and often younger, inexperienced public defender.  Judges and juries are predominantly white, even in big cities.  Some of the judges and juries could be unconsciously biased, or just plain racist? (Ya think!) Inner-city youth  often grow up in situations that seem hopeless - raised by a single parent who has to work two jobs just to survive, high unemployment, few good role models, dilapidated schools with burned-out teachers who are past caring, gangs, pervasive drug culture - they can easily fall into a pattern of increasingly destructive and illegal behavior.  It is hard to blame a kid entirely when they see no one in their neighborhood succeed, except the local drug dealers who drive nice cars and wear expensive clothes.

Bottom line, we live in a society where racism still exists.  Sometimes there are bigoted people.  More often it is just a social structure that favors people with more money, which roughly correlates with less skin color; what I have always called "institutional racism."  Until we can GUARANTEE that every accused person receives absolutely fair and impartial treatment in the judicial system, I think it is morally bankrupt...no, it is OUTRIGHT SINFUL, to continue executing more people of color than whites.

These are my thoughts, but not necessarily the only way to look at the issue.  I hope it is helpful, but however you vote on this issue, I know you will vote your heart, because I know you have a good heart.

Love you,

Uncle Joel [Lolopop]

DD Favorites: The Giveaway Books Edition

Dearest Daughters,

You know that giveaway we did last week? Well, here's the big reveal of the books we chose for the winner. And by "we" I mean our foolproof, three-fold book-choosing criteria.

1) Parental Enjoyment: If I don't like reading it, I'm not going to read it to you. In fact, I'll probably hide it. And if you find it, I'll tell you my voice is broken. Or I forgot how to read. Or something like that.

2) Child Enjoyment: If you don't like listening to it, I end up reading to an empty lap. Which is fine if it's the New Yorker, but it's usually not.

3) BFF Librarian: But, to be honest, the majority of our bookshelves are filled with books given or suggested to us by Auntie Ninang Librarian Katherine.

So, for those of you who aren't so lucky to have personal access to Criterion #3, here are some of our favorites:

Board Books

Hooray for Fish by Lucy Cousins: it's one of our favorites because... as I said last week, but here goes again: it's colorful and rhymes and uses onomatopoeia. What more could a toddler want? Maybe a favorite fish? Who we happen to find out at the end of the book is who else, but Mommy Fish! Hooray! Mommy Fish, FTW!

Dear Zoo by Rod Campbell: it's one of our favorites because... it's a lift-the-flap book! And if that's not enough, my genius girls enjoy the dramatic irony as box after box of unsuitable pets are delivered from the zoo. And the sing-song, read-aloud, abundance-of-ellipses-wait-until-your-cute-baby-responds, makes this book a heart-warming, snuggle-bunnying read. Not to mention the happy ending!

Picture Books

Tip Tip Dig Dig by Emma Garcia: it's one of our favorites because... Babybel discovered this one all by herself at the library. Well she wasn't all by herself. That would be child neglect and against library rules. But, she stuck it into our library bag. And when we got home, I discovered this awesome construction-themed book! The scene is set with a mess of an empty lot. And it remains to be seen what all those construction vehicles will do. Such a nail-biter! It's repetitive and goes over the same few construction-y verbs in three different tenses, which I think is the point. But, mostly we just enjoy using our made up hand-motions to tell the story and act surprised at the big-reveal at the end.

Llama Llama Red Pajama by Anna Dewdney: it's one of our favorites because... it helps us think about the important toddler themes of missing one's mommy, of the frustration of having to wait, of general hysteria and coping with our overwhelming emotions. Plus, it rhymes and it uses synonyms! Between Bel who cries and Danjo who yells, we are in certain need of "llama drama" vocabulary.

The Lion and the Mouse by Jerry Pinkney: it's one of our favorites because... it's a wordless book! Which is fitting because this retelling of one of Aesop's fables can be read a million ways. Whether you are familiar with the story or not, you can tell your own version of this kind-hearted tale. After a couple of read-alouds, examining the detailed and gorgeous watercolor illustrations, Bel could pick up this book and read it to herself, voices and beaming, proud smile and everything! 

Tweak Tweak by Eve Bunting: it's one of our favorites because... Danjo has a particular affinity for elephants. And it's about a very inquisitive little one. She walks and talks with her mommy, learning about all the different animals of the jungle and their special gifts. It's a book about a journey. And the elephant's discovery of her own gifts. Super deep, really. Like us.

The Paper Bag Princess by Robert Munsch: it's one of our favorites because... this one's too easy: it's about a princess who is intelligent, clever, witty and does no way, no how need a prince to rescue her. It's the Disney princess anti-venom! I think Bel just likes it because of the dragon. Good enough for me.

The DDs-Will-Read-These-in-the-Future Books - these are books that I love for reasons I've mentioned before and will repeat below, but the girls haven't read them... yet. Dum dum dum.

Clementine by Sara Pennypacker: I want the DDs to read this because... of the awesome parents, who support their child, ask the right questions, and say the right things, duh! Oh, and because of the awesome cogent, attention deficit, emotive mis-adventures of this red-head. Another dose of anti-venom for the Disney Princess crowd. It's the first of several Clementine books. And I look forward to reading them aloud to my quirky babies.

The Penderwicks by Jeanne Birdsall: I want the DDs to read this because... it's a book about what it means to be a family, to be sisters and to have adventures. It's such a sweet book about four mother-less girls, unique in her each way, their bond and adventures supported by a clueless, but loving father. When I die, I hope the girls will rent a cottage in the Berkshires and reenact this book. Even if you're seventy-five years old. (Also, there are more in the series; every one is great!)

One Crazy Summer by Rita Williams-Garcia: I want the DDs to read this because... it's another story about sisters, who, um, are also motherless. That is, until they fly across the country to spend a summer with their poet mother. Set in 1960s Oakland, the girls spend their days interacting with Black Panthers, neighborhood kids and some other fun characters. The book is as much a serious look into the Black Power movement, inequality, the process of learning to love oneself (or one's mother or daughters, as the case may be) as it is a light-hearted tale of three sisters and their summertime adventures. The narrator is the oldest sister and she is also one awesome, wise, insightful and witty brown young woman. All things my DDs are certain to become.

For a running list of recommendations that I keep on Pinterest, click here for picture books we love or here for books I will force my children to read. While you're at it, feel free to follow me to see what I add in the future.

Love,

P.S. This post is not sponsored in any way. Except maybe by Auntie Ninang Librarian Katherine who recommended most of these books to us. So, if you want to send her money, you can. Otherwise, this post comes from the bottom of my good-book-loving heart.

Call me a conformist, but you can't say I don't speak my mind.

Dearest Daughters,

In a world of limitless art supplies and boundless time and two year olds, I agree that there is no right and wrong. I believe in open-ended art and play. I encourage pretending and tinkering and open-ended conversation.

I do everything in my capacity to build my girls up. Not tear you down. Especially not with mockery and berating, but, I must admit, sometimes a finger shake. Right, Danjo, Miss Finger Shaker?

I've written before about grey areas and my desire to avoid making my children feel wrong, making you feel like there is only one right answer.

I've had these thoughts for the very same reason as Teacher Tom (via Intrepid Murmurings), who writes:

When we manage to teach children that there is a right way and a wrong way, they are learning something about black and white. They are learning something about their own judgement. They are learning something about rote and obedience. And I think none of it good, at least if the idea is to have them ultimately emerge from school as people who form their own ideas and have the courage to express them.

Certainly. I want you, my daughters, to be true to yourselves and to be courageous in your convictions and actions.

But, there's something about this approach to child-rearing that is too "perfect world" for me. Never offering guidance about "right" and "wrong" or communicating expectations of excellence.

Yes, in a perfect world, those are the children I would raise. Children who are self-motivated to learn and make good choices. Who don't hit each other because they understand that it hurts, who want to learn math because they understand its fascinating application to natural phenomenon. (Click on Teacher Tom's link about "obedience" above, for more on that. A whole 'nother post. Don't have time to go there now.)

But, in reality?

Resolved for matters unresolved

Dearest Daughters,

I was going to write Danjo's monthly letter today, but I got distracted by this:

I was on the brink of tears all eight minutes of this trailer, shared by former MBCC intern @Derrick Weston and one of Daddy's man crushes. Did I just say that out loud? Sorry, beadle.

It brings up so many emotions and thoughts and issues. But, I've narrowed down the rush of thoughts in my brain to the following:

It is, resolved, that my daughters will go to Wellesley College like I did, I don't care how far away it is, because that place effing empowers women (Did you notice Wellesley Center for Women and Jean Kilbourne? Woot!)

Resolved, that I will help my daughters think critically, deconstruct the media on a daily basis, because I can't shield them from it. (Disney, you already know, I'm talking to you!)

Resolved, if I ever have a boy, he will hear it from me even more than his sisters. He will be the most anti-misogynist, womanist person you'll ever know. I will buy him a shirt that says: "This is what a femenist looks like." And everyone will cringe and accuse me of "ruining" my son. Except for the women in his life. They will thank me. And, I will train him, like Pavlov's dog, so that any time he sees a scantily clad woman, he will quote Gloria Steinem: “We've begun to raise daughters more like sons... but few have the courage to raise our sons more like our daughters.”

That is all.

For now.

Love,

Have I Told You Tuesday: Where Three or More are Gathered

Dearest Daughters,

Ugh. I don't know why I'm being so serious and intense lately. It'll pass soon and I'll have something ridiculous and humorous to offer soon, I promise. Maybe some more college exploits? Like the time I tried to clean up a spilled drink with my flip flop, because I declared, "It's absorbent!"

Or not.

For better or worse, being a person of color in this country means toeing the line between shoving yourself in people's faces (educating the ignorant) for the good of all humans and knowing when to lay low.  It's kind of like parenting in that you have to learn to choose your battles. When will speaking up do more good than bad? Or when will it worsen the situation.

Lola has some particular "things" that irk her because of the world she was raised in where judgements were frequently and easily made. I wasn't conscious of these "things" until I had you girls. Like babies should wear socks. Shoes should be worn EVERY time you leave the house. Faces should be wiped and clothes should be clean.

Seems simple enough. But, then you become a parent and go out into the world of other parents. And you see a precious little white baby with mismatched clothes (however hipster) and a messy face. Maybe not wearing shoes. And you think nothing of it. You look at your own browner child with crazy, tangled curls, a dirty face and wearing red and purple together (in a decidedly non-hipster way). And you think, HOLY COW, my child looks like she just left a refugee camp and is "Fresh Off the Boat." And if you're thinking that, what are ALL THESE OTHER PEOPLE at the Target food court thinking?!?

It's unfortunate, but appearance does matter.

Peace I Leave With You

Dearest Daughters,

Sunday, also the day Danjo was baptized, was the ten year memorial of "September 11th" or "9/11" as the date on which the United States suffered terrorist attacks in New York City and Washington, DC has come to be called.

On the day Danjo was born, a couple of people breathed a sigh of relief, not only at the sight of such a beautiful and healthy baby, but also because they were thankful "she was born today and not TOMORROW." I assume because of 9/11. But, I didn't ask. You know, busy managing pain and the shock of a baby slipping out of me and all. So, maybe it was because they had scheduled haircuts or massages for the next day, selfish jerks.

On the morning of the terrorist attacks, I went to another day of my senior year of high school. I remember my Government teacher addressing us, the news of the Unknown and Unconfirmed, the looped images of amateur video of the plane collisions into the Twin Towers, playing on a television behind him. He, along with the Principal over the loud speaker, gave us what comfort they could muster, being equally shocked by the events. But, what I remember him saying, was nothing profound. Only that we would remember this moment, as generations before remembered pivotal events, the Cuban Missle Crisis, the assassination of JFK, of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (I guess not much pivotal happened between the 1960s and 2001, since he didn't mention anything else.)

It's kind of silly that what I remember most about that morning is someone telling me I would remember that morning.

An Addendum to my Master Plan for Raising Mixed Children

Dearest Daughters,

I hate to be a buzz kill and continue to post about such "serious" things as raising mixed children, but I'm sure Auntie Amy was not our only reader (present or future) that has questions, concerns and takes exception to what I post on this blog. To appease the silent masses, I have a few more thoughts on the subject. Two things.

We all want our children to thrive.

I think that all parents can agree they want to give their children the best possible chance at survival in the world that their station in life can afford. That's why we feed them and educate them. Teach them how to communicate. How to behave. Enrich them. How to make good choices. Surround them with good people.

So, that when we send them off to kindergarten, let them take public transit alone for the first time, permit them to have a boyfriend or girlfriend, kick them out of the house, even. Basically, when we're not around, they'll not only survive, but thrive.

This, in part, is why "being Filipino" should be a part of our daily lives. My children, more so than I, look Filipino. And despite what some would like to believe, this is NOT a colorblind world. Nor should it be. My children's heritage, ethnicity, culture and appearance should be a point of pride. Not of contention. So that when they go into the world, they will never be made to feel ashamed--actively (i.e. by overt racism or stereotyping) or subconsciously (i.e. by media). They will be proud of who they are.

To claim their Filipinoness is NOT to reject their whiteness or their Americaness.

Adobo and Buzz Lightyear: my master plan for raising mixed girls

Dearest Daughters,

Having biracial children, Lola and Lolopop made a conscious decision to raise us as Filipino as possible. Lola was born in the United States, doesn't speak the language, cook much of the food and is not Catholic (which is a big cultural aspect of being Filipino). So, raising us "Filipino" entailed surrounding us with a community of Filipino aunties and uncles, seeking out the annual Manila Fests around Northern California and teaching us a few words and phrases that my dad picked up in a Tagalog class. Other stuff too: buying books, teaching us to respect our elders, sending a rice cooker with me to college. And more!

I knew my dad was white, I knew I was part white, but most of my childhood I claimed to be Filipino, because that's the culture I identified with. Also, I didn't want to be the only "white girl" in my grade in predominantly Asian south Stockton. Then in middle school, when we moved to Marin County, I didn't want to be one of "those kids" who were cruel middle schoolers at a school aptly called White Hill; "those" mean kids also happened to be white, which in retrospect I can't blame them for. But imagine my culture shock and the associations I made between my first immersion in white society and being treated so meanly, made fun of for my smelly lunches and self-concious when the envelope to collect money for weekly pizza day circulated around homeroom. (I'll add for a point of reference, there was NO subsidized school lunch program at White Hill. Lunch was "catered" two days a week--pizza and burrito days--the rest of the days everyone brought their own lunch. The school I went to before had almost 100% participation in the free or reduced lunch program. My parents made enough money that we never qualified for free or reduced lunches, so we were accostomed to bringing our brown bags. But the fact that NO ONE at the school qualified for a subsidized lunch, shows that socio-economic issues were also at play.)

"What ARE you?" they'd ask.

"A human."

"No. I mean where are you from?"

"My mother's womb?"

"You know what I mean. Like what nationality are you?"

"My nationality is American. I was born here."

"No like what ARRRRREEE you? You know!"

"Oh! I'm Filipino."

Blank stares. Perhaps, they were considering what Filipino is or why I'm obviously so stupid. Perhaps both.

Three Things That Me Cry This Week

Dearest Daughters,

1. Your dad. Well, not so much him as a conversation with him. Sometimes we argue and have conflict. For good reason and for the better: we're always better people, partners and parents at the end of it.

2. A college student was arrested because of (how he responded to being told to pull up his) sagging pants on an airplane. Racism, plain and simple. The commenter at the end of the article says it well. While, it is NEVER appropriate for you girls to show off your underwear--unless you're an underwear model, of course--and I'm not a huge fan of sagging, in general, stories like this remind me of the subtle, micro-agressions, too easily ignored, but nevertheless symptomatic of our racist society.

3. Killer whales in Monterey Bay. Whales and bag pipes. How can you not get all weepy? On the video I *heart* the guy laughing with pure joy at seeing the whales.

Love,