Dealing with the challenge of commuting longer distances by bike; with the kids

I don’t remember a whole lot from my childhood. But the memories I do have a very sharp. Aside from summers spent swimming 9-to-5 like a job and smelling my mom’s hair just before she told me she was pregnant with my sister, few memories stand out more than when we had to commute using public transportation. I’m talking, up before the crack of dawn so mom could get us kids to the babysitter and get to work by 9:00 AM.

And now I’ve begun doing the same thing. Actually, it wasn’t until Summer and I had two kids on vacation, that child care and commuting by bus became a real issue. As I started pricing the child care, I almost had a heart attack. All day child care for two children is expensive. And getting them there is a challenge, to say the least. Especially since we all have to get there by bike.

The first day was a bitch. We were up at 5:30 AM and out of the door by 6:00 (you have no idea what I had to go through to get the boys to get dressed, even in their sleep deprived stupor. I told them to sleep earlier. They’ll learn.). We all mounted our bikes and set out for the Boys & Girls Club, which had the best rates for summer day camp. Four miles, up hill, down hill, busy streets, early in the morning.

For someone who had spent that latter part of the school year commuting by bike, the youngest seemed to have the hardest time. He cried about his nose hurting, complained about being hot and generally had a hard time with the whole thing. The oldest spent half the ride yelling at the youngest to stop crying. At one point we went down a hill and I let myself fly down until I reached the bottom. Along the way, the boys lost sight of me. When they caught up the oldest was crying and glared at me angrily. “He got scared because he couldn’t see you,” the youngest said rolling his eyes.

Despite the challenges, we made it to our destination and I got to work on time. It took an hour to make a 30 minute ride, but I’m pretty sure we’ll get faster as the boys get more used to the route. The ride home was much easier and faster and when we made it, we all vegged out in front of the television.

I saw a sign that the average bicyclist loses 13 lbs their first year commuting by bike. Those are results I can get behind. That and showing my kids that you don’t need a car to get around town. The more used to it I get, the less inconvenient it seems. We were even able to grocery shop–I’m talking real shopping–and get everything home on our bikes.

Truthfully, there have been plenty of times I wish I had a car. But I’m also learning to make due and so are my kids. Much like when my mom would drag my sister and I out on the bus to get to the sitter, I have to drag my kids out on the rode at ungodly hours to get them to the sitter as well. The main difference is that we’re all getting a work out on our way to our destinations.

As my mom always said, “I gotta do what I gotta do.”

Truer words are rarely ever spoken.

Tags: bicycle commuting, bus/bike to work, family, Health/Fitness

Facing the Truth: Debt, Desperation and Deserving it All

I started this year with a grand vision. I’d get more active, start really focusing on building my freelance business and head off to grad school in the fall. The active part I have pretty well under control (mostly because I don’t have a car and I’ve been using a bike to get around). I’ve managed to drum up some freelance work, but I quickly realized that being full-time freelance by the end of the year was not going to happen. As for grad school, it was the first thing to come off the table as something to work toward this year.

You see, one of the most important steps in starting a business is to get real regarding your finances and ideally, ditching bad habits. Just as I started to pull back the veil to really examine the truth about my crumbling financial foundation, I realized I had to make some changes before I could begin launching any escapes.

Grad school would cost a hefty $100k (not including living expenses, child care, transportation, books…etc.) and I had no desire to dig myself deeper into debt. Unfortunately, I had ignored certain debts too long and was soon confronted with them in most unpleasant ways: car repossession and the threat of wage garnishment if I didn’t start paying my student loan.

I was embarrassed; both creditors had found me at work. The student loan people called my direct extension, but it was a coworker who alerted me that my car was being towed; I had to bring all the crap from my car to my desk. Talk about a wake-up call. If you know anything about Southern California, you know it is not a good place to be without a car. But now I see having a car as luxury, one I cannot currently afford.

So I bought a bike and a bus pass. I’ve also not missed a payment on my student loan since that fateful call.

The next step was to look at what other expenses I could scale back. I had this apartment that I was happy for at the time–escaping from recent outbreaks of violence in my long-time subsidized housing–but now it was starting to look over-priced. I was starting to see graffiti at the edges of the neighborhood and neither the boy nor I cared for the school he was attending. I felt isolated from my friends and family, most of whom lived 30 minutes to an hour away. I was struggling to make ends meet and really starting to feel the pressure.

I had two choices: Get a roommate or find a smaller apartment.

I waffled back and forth (very briefly) before deciding to take the plunge into finding new digs. Sure, I could save more money by getting a roommate, but I’d also be giving up my privacy and inviting a stranger to live with me and my child. I just wasn’t comfortable with that. If I moved, I could go to a city I liked and get closer to my family, while being able to maintain the privacy I valued so much.

So I made a list, a vision–if you will–of all the things I required of my new abode. I wanted a place walking or biking distance from the beach, with a private balcony or patio, a bedroom (not one of those Jr. 1 bedrooms that don’t have a separate sleeping space) and I wanted to save $200-300 a month. I gave my 30 day notice–effectively burning my ship–and started booking appointments and submitting applications. Again though, I was confronted with my poor financial history. While I had a good income and had never been evicted or filed bankruptcy, with so many things in collections, I looked like a risky proposition for a tenant and I was rejected several times.

Mentally, I began making compromises. Maybe I didn’t need a patio and maybe I didn’t need a bedroom. Maybe I should look at this piece of shit apartment over here because it’s been on the market for so long and they might be willing to negotiate. Maybe I can’t afford to live close to the beach. Maybe I’m not worthy of what I desire.

When I was declined just as my 30 days ran out, I started to doubt even more. Maybe I’d made a huge mistake. I should have waited to give my notice. What if no one is willing to give me a chance?

I felt weary but it was in this darkest moment I made up my mind that the doubt was a lie. I would have was I was looking for. It was out there for me, I just hadn’t found the one yet. It would come and it would be on time. I got an extension on my moving date and resumed my search with a strange feeling of calm.

I was more determined than ever, but somewhere along the way, I ditched my desperation flag.

You know the one flapping around going, “Hey I’m in need! I need and I need. Please help me because I NEED.”

Would you take a chance on someone so needy? Most people won’t. Not when it comes to their money.

It was really do-or-die time, but I had decided not to worry about whether or not things would work out. With every application I submitted, I let it go. I could not control the property owners, nor could I control the outcome of the applying. If it was meant to be mine, they would say yes and until someone said yes, I knew that the right place was waiting for me.

Then a rental agent I had been working with called me. He had submitted an application for a condo we saw a few weeks prior and I was approved. All I needed to do was go sign the lease, take in my deposit and move in when I was ready.

So, in two weeks [UPDATE: I moved in almost two weeks ago an I love it! More details on the new crib in a later post], I’ll be sitting on my lovely patio, at my new beach condo, saving money on rent every month and biking to the beach on Saturdays with my boys.

And I didn’t have to make any compromises.

True enough, my finances are a mess. It’s also true that I will prosper as my soul prospers. The lie is that I don’t deserve any of the things I’m seeking: financial, physical and spiritual health. The truth is that I deserve it all. We all do.

Originally published at the Live Your Truth blog.

Tags: Financial Messiness, Getting Things Done, Inspiration, Introspection, Life Happens, Money Problems, Personal Finance, Triumph

Book Review: Learning to Stand

I don’t read many fiction novels. I get my fill of reading done at work where I pretty much read all day, editing articles and keeping up with the latest business news and trends. It’s rare that I read for pleasure.

Then there was Claudia Hall Christian The Fey. I started on a Friday night and was finished by Sunday. I’m not a particularly fast reader, the book was just that engaging (read my review). So when Claudia offered me the chance to read part 2 in The Fey series, Learning to Stand, I knew there was bound to be more action and ass kicking by the heroine Alex “The Fey”.

Learning to Stand did not disappoint. Intrigue, romance and action…this book has it all. Alex endures real trauma over and over again and somehow manages to remain simultaneously vulnerable and powerful. Just as you’re wondering what more Alex can go through, another bomb explodes. It’s enough to make your heart ache wishing people would stop trying to kill the beloved femme fatal.

What I love most about Alex is that even when she’s not sure, and she wants to give up all hope, she finds some way to soldier on. Of course, this is largely thanks to her great friends, but its that imperfection…Alex’s fragility that makes her a great heroine. She’s every woman. She’s a survivor. She’s afraid. She’s uncertain. She’s broken. And she keeps fighting for love, for country, for her life and the lives of others.

From beginning to end you will be engrossed in Learning to Stand. Take it from this non-fiction reader anxiously waiting to read the final Alex “the Fey” saga. Read it online, or get the hard copy, which I recommend because you’ll probably want to read at a faster pace than the chapters are posted online.

And if you like Alex the Fey, check out Claudia’s Dever Cereal!

I took him to the park, left him for 30 minutes, he was fine, we made new friends

Note: I tend to write in bursts so if this is your first time here and you like what you read, subscribe to the feed so you don’t forget where to go to for more.

Today has been dubbed by Lenore Skenazy of Free-Range Kids, Take Your Children to the Park and Leave them There day. I generally don’t go to the park near my house because it’s not really…near my house, but today I woke early determined to participate in this day somehow.

I suppose it might have been better if I had spoke to some other parents near me. Truth is that I work a lot and the Boy doesn’t know the other kids very well. So I decided we’d ride to the park and I’d leave him at the playground, while I rode the bike trails.

When I got to the park, I was a little nervous. Not because I was afraid the Boy would come to any peril in my absence but because there were adults hovering over kids like I had never noticed before. Just as I was thinking I’d make him ride trails with me, another kid his age showed up and I didn’t exist anymore. I gave him instructions for responding to questions for where his mother was (I told him to say he was fine and that his mom was in the park, instead he said “Today is take your kid to the park and leave them there day! ” :-/) and headed off to the bike trail.

The sun was bright, the morning air was refreshing and the creek the bike trail followed was absolutely beautiful. I could smell jasmine, and grass and hear the little bit of water make its way over and through the rocks. And I was slightly in awe of what I had lived relatively close to for almost a year, and never bothered to see (I had also been complaining that the park wasn’t walking distance…which it really isn’t from our house, so the bikes helped).

When I returned to the playground about 30 minutes later, the kids were engrossed in play. I asked the Boy if he wanted to ride the trails with me, he asked his new friend, I introduced myself to the friend’s mother (who asked about “eave your kid at the park day,” which I happily explained) then we all rode off on the nature reserve bike trail together.

It was so much fun! The other mom and I had lots in common, and the kids were getting on like old friends. There was a set of metal slides and we hug out there, while the kids went down the tallest one over and over.

Then it was time for us to go our separate ways. The other mom and I exchanged numbers because…well, our kids hat hit it off (and so had we kinda) and expressed some interest in hanging out again. The whole thing was all in keeping with why I was there in the first place: For the Boy and I to go out, be active and make new friends.

We’ll definitely be doing that more often.

Tags: bicycling, Free-Range, Health/Fitness, kids, Take Your Kid to the Park and Leave Them There

Free-Range victory: The boy gets to bike to school!

Earlier this week I took the boy to pick up his new bike. The next day we rode to the school together. He was so excited. It was like a new level of cool. I could tell other kids were a little jealous and even the school cook yelled out “Cool bike!”

I provided him with a note granting my permission to ride his bike to school, to which the school responded that it was against the district policy to allow kids in his grade to ride to school on a bike.

I was pissed* because they hadn’t even asked any questions (even though I specifically invited them to call me if they had any and included two numbers). I immediately left a message for the principal wasn’t really sure what to do. First thing I needed to do was find that policy. If it wasn’t on the books and publicly available, they really wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. I also emailed Free-Range kids, to get some other ideas from the free-range community before I had my next conversation with a school admin. There were a bunch of great suggestions, most of which echoed the do your homework, contact the board, do it anyway and find somewhere to lock the bike off campus. (Thanks Free-Range Kids!)

Then I started to think about whether or not it was really worth the fight. Was it something we really needed or was it just me fighting the system (I have a tendency to want to make my own rules). I decided this was something the boy and I needed for a few reasons:

1. I don’t have a car
2. I use a combination of bike/bus as transportation
3. I would be riding with him
4. The after-school getting home from the after school program takes longer by bus, than by bike

You see, beyond my objections as a free-range parent, I had some good reasons to fight this policy. So I sent an email to the school board and the superintendent explaining my situation and asking that they be willing to consider my case. I kept digging around for the policy and couldn’t find it. I also sent him to school with the bike the following day. If there was no policy, they couldn’t really say no. Before I left work, I put in a call to the school board office. Bureaucrats have a tendency to drag their feet, so I wanted to speak to someone as quickly as possible (don’t worry, I wasn’t all panicked on the phone, I just wanted to talk to a human).

As I was making my commute to work I received a call from the principal. She was sorry but this was the district policy and it was her job to enforce it. I tried to explain my situation: but I ride with him and I don’t have a car, this is how we will get home together when I’m picking him up. And I would need her to show me the policy. She had quick responses: even if I rode with him, he couldn’t lock his bike on campus and ride home by himself and even if he didn’t ride home by himself, the bike could not be locked on school property. It is the policy. If I wanted to fight it, I could go to the school board (I don’t think she really expected me to do it).

I found myself feeling sorry for her, thinking that she was just an enforcer. The principal had no real power (or so it seems) to examine individual circumstances (I think mine were compelling) and make rare exceptions on a case-by-case basis. That evening the boy handed me the policy documentation, but somehow I knew this would work in my favor.

So today, I sent him with his bike anyway. And this afternoon, I got the call that the school board agreed to my request, granted the boy obeys the rules and I ride with him in the morning.

VICTORY!

I thanked the principal for working with me and told her to have a great weekend. When I picked the boy up, he did a little victory dance. I was relieved to have successfully bended the rules and not just because I had an abstract philosophical objection. It might not work for everyone, but for me, I feel like this saved my life.

* I have to admit that I’m not in favor of quite a few school policies. I think kids have way too much homework, uniforms take away their freedom of expression (yes I let my kids pick their own clothes), NCLB is not working, teachers have no creative freedom and the public school system is meant to socialize kids into being worker bee drones. I do a lot of reprogramming and deprogramming.

Tags: bike-to-school, Education, Free-Range, making up the rules, stupid policies

Gaga for Gaga

I know, it’s trite. But it’s true.

And I really didn’t want to like her at first. I would get angry when the dreaded earworm, Poker Face, got stuck in my head. I thought she came out of no where and was just another no-talent packed pop princess. Then I was cleaning The Boy’s room one day and the Poker Face came on. I was so focused on the task at home, I didn’t realize I was singing and dancing and before I knew it the song was over and I wanted to hear it again. And again.

That’s when I acknowledged that Poker Face was a great pop song.

I was still poking fun at it though.

Then one day I happened upon a link to Lady Gaga performing live, acoustic, ridiculous elephant on her head. Sure the head-dress was distracting but not enough for me to notice that she could really play that piano (with a compelling level of drama, I might add) and she could actually sing.

That’s when I admitted she was talented.

Combine talent and great pop music and what do you get? An entertainer. Toss in a little media savvy, crazy costumes and escalating eccentricity (I really think she has an more tame alter ego) and there is the story of Lady Gaga’s claim to fame.

The question remains, will Gaga be able to maintain the level of constant buzz and relevance that she has over the last two years? Let’s be real, how may artists–pop or otherwise–can you name that have had real staying power over the last decade? They are few and far between for sure. Even some of the most influential of the artists I grew up on have disappeared, had public melt downs or really need to just let it go. Perhaps the one who stayed on top the longest, without appearing to crash-and-burn or try too hard, was Madonna.

I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to make that kind of comparison. It’s no secret Madonna was always able to manipulate the media and reinvent herself for the times. She has always seemed poised and in complete control. You can argue that she’s probably a Queen-B who rules her circle of influence with an iron fist, I say she’s a shrewd business woman.

The only way for Gaga to sustain a long career arch, is to grow. That doesn’t mean continue to grow weird–in fact I think its quite the opposite. The weird will only take her so far; talent and savvy could take her all the way. If she can successfully transfer our focus from her eccentricity to her talent, Gaga could well be around 10 years from now with no sign of being toppled from her throne.

Tags: Lady Gaga, Music, Pop Music

Love is all there is

A while ago I posted a link on Facebook about Christian singer Jennifer Knapp returning to music and coming out. My only comment to start was that I thought the decision might raise some ire, then someone asked me for more specific thoughts, at which point I obliged.

It didn’t take long before a friend of mine, a former church mate and devout Christian, also commented. She started out with something to the effect that it’s dangerous to “think” because our thoughts are not God’s thoughts and we are supposed to be transformed through the renewing of our minds. She went on to talk about sin and salvation and how our love is not the same as God’s love and that the only thing that matters is what God’s word (the Bible) tells us is right. It was apparent in her tone that she believed she was correct and that by virtue of my disagreeing with her, I would suffer some punishment when all is said and done.

As a Christian, I used to find it hard to reconcile this idea that we are not supposed to think for ourselves and that we were to be dependent on a preacher to interpret the Bible. And while I’ve been in quite a few churches that tout the verse “study to show yourself approved,” in practice, the premise of most has been to condemn anyone who actually took this scripture to heart and interpreted the Bible any differently than the majority.

This is actually a large part of why I have chosen not attend a traditional Christian church. Some of my friends call it a “heathen hippie gathering”, I call it spiritual fellowship. People from different walks of life come together to be inspired by spiritual leaders willing to give the gift of their wisdom without judgment.

One thing I’ve been sort of thinking about was my friend’s statement that we will be held accountable for the information we share with others. Maybe this was my indoctrination tugging at me but I felt as though she accused me of turning my back on God. I know she meant it all in love, so I simply thanked her for the discussion, but decided it best not to engage any further.

It’s impossible to explain the concept of love–the ultimate law–to a person so focused on taking the bible literally, who believes that anyone who disagrees with suffer the wrath of God and the only way to see “heaven” (whatever your interpretation may be) is through Christian salvation. There are many ways to experience God and millions of people all over the world who don’t even understand our Americanized version of Christianity (case in point: my Irish boyfriend with whom I can’t even have a discussion about religion because his frame of reference is Catholics vs Protestants).

The only thing that makes sense to me (someone who grew up in the church, went two to three times a week until I was a teenager and then again as a young adult, who was indoctrinated and found a different path) is that when all is said and done, the only thing that matters is love. If there was nothing else we were to take from Jesus it was that love covers a multitude of sins and we were not to assume we know better and are better than anyone else. We are to treat people with love and through our demonstration of love, people will see the God within. In fact–we are taught–God is love.

So if God is love and God is all there is, then love is all there is.

Some people will never understand this concept, which is fine. I don’t need others to understand, but based on my understanding, I will always try to act in love. I will do my best to treat myself, my kids, my neighbors and strangers on the street with love, because that was the ultimate lesson in Christ’s sacrifice.

Love is all there is. Walking in this level of love has taught me the true meaning of unconditional love. It’s the kind of love that leaves everyone space to be themselves and the strength to truly forgive. Love leaves us to work on our own lives, faith, livelihood and development of gifts without worrying about what others are doing. Walking in love leaves us to be beacons of light in an often dark world.

The choice is easy and every time I will choose love. Because what else is there?

Tags: Christianity, Introspection, Love, Reflection, Spirituality

Teachers save lives, these are the ones who saved mine

Yesterday I wrote about bullying and raising confident kids and this morning I got an email from the Freedom Writers Foundation: “Teachers Save Lives.”

In another lifetime I might have rolled my eyes but I can honestly say that there are a couple of teachers who saved my life. There was Mr. Christianson, a substitute teacher I had in the 5th grade who made math fun. I was struggling and most of the year I got Ds on the math tests. Mr. Christianson helped me get a B. And it was the best B I ever earned.

There was Mrs. Levine, the edgy 7th grade English teacher who introduced me to Daniel Steel. She had a book rack next to her desk and we were to always have a book “checked out”–a book of Mrs. Levine’s choosing. She’s sit with her feet kicked up on the desk, spin the book rack slowly and study the books pensively. You knew she’s made a choice when she stopped spinning and took her feet off of the desk and pull the book from the rack.

“This is a little edgy,” she said. “There are adult themes.” She held to book out and then took it back again. “I think you can handle it.”

She handed me the book and shooed me away. When I read the first sex scene (probably not far into the book) I was a little surprised. The choice of Daniel Steel was perfect because the language was simple, but it was more mature than Baby-Sitters Club (which I’m pretty sure I read every book in the series AND Baby-Sitters Club Baby Sisters). It was time for more mature content. I moved on from Daniel Steel pretty quickly but Steel was definitely a gateway to mystery, romance and fantasy books.

There was Cheri Swatek, my high school swimming coach. I was ditching classes and skipping practice and she gave me a choice. I could either keep ditching and skipping or I could be on the swim team. I couldn’t do both. I had to commit. Swimming was about the only thing I really cared about at that time, so I chose swimming. Of course that also meant not ditching (or ditching less…what? Just sayin’) and not missing a single practice. I also had to maintain at least a C average and I could do that in my sleep (a lot of the time I did).

I wanted to swim, I chose to stay engaged in school. That’s what Cheri gave me.

Erin Gruwell, the ultimate mentor and founder of the Freedom Writer’s Foundation, also saved my life. I laugh now, thinking about it because I was in denial about it for a while. Maybe it’s because I feel like my biggest change took place later than others, I don’t know. I know that Erin taught me what Do or Die meant. She taught me to take leaps of faith and know that I could make myself, through my choices. I had only to choose my path and then walk it; against all odds. And when it seemed like my dream of being the first in my family to graduate from college was slipping away, Erin gave me a lifeline.

That lifeline was the Freedom Writer’s Diary (which I co-authored and edited) and a full scholarship (tuition, books, bus passes, learning disability assessment, counseling, tutoring) to Cal State Long Beach (GO BEACH). College was the most amazing start to the rest of my life, one of the best gifts I’ve ever received and one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

I remember riding in Erin’s car one day and she said to me, “Kimberlee, you are going to become the poster child for the successful-person-post-teen-aged pregnancy.” At the time, I laughed it off because it made me uncomfortable and my brain painted a literal picture (with my face on a poster). She wasn’t talking about a poster though. She was talking about my success. I was so close to a goal that for a while, seemed so impossible (especially while rolling pennies at a gas station).

And Erin kicked my ass all the way there.

There was a time when I thought my story wasn’t “tragic” enough to be told. So many of the other Freedom Writer stories are about being abused, addicted, suicidal…I thought the life saving wasn’t literal enough. But no, these teachers literally (Erin and Cheri in particular) saved my life and all by teaching me the value of the choices I made.

This is what happens when teachers are engaged with the education of their students. It happens when there’s enough flexibility that each teacher can shape their students with genuine interaction and experiential learning. And for teachers who need ridged rules and procedures, there’s flexibility enough for that too. Teachers save lives when they are engaged and they care.

It’s what Erin did and teaches other teachers to do in the Freedom Writer Teacher Institute. Together, Erin, the Freedom Writers and the Freedom Writers Foundation have developed a methodology that has changed lives around the country. The foundation and the Institute are rays of light in what often seems like a bleak educational landscape.

Which brings me to my final point: I’d like you make a donation to the Freedom Writers Foundation, in support of the cause I have dedicated so much of my life to: education. All I’m asking is a $5 donation toward programs that inspire teachers and provides them the tools to make a real difference in the lives of their students.

Did a teacher save your life? Share your story in the comments.

Tags: Education, Introspection, Reflections, teachers

Bullying, safety and the necessity for raising confident kids

I like to avoid the tragic news about kids being hurt, abused, abducted, hurting themselves…Too much of that makes you want to lock your kid in a tower, never to be harmed by the outside world. But I’ve been asked a few times what I thought about Phoebe Prince’s suicide and the bullies accused of pushed her to it. So I’ve been stewing.

And I’m of two minds.

The first says that I’m not sympathetic to the idea of anyone killing themselves because they were bullied. Who hasn’t been other than the bully who was probably bullied by someone too. I was bullied, mocked and made fun of at various times during my schooling. I know what it’s like to be mortified and wishing you could hide from your tormentors. To feel like dread at the thought of going to school…And maybe with the “always on” culture we have, its harder to get away from the bully noise (but I don’t really buy that either).

Thing is that there have been bullies since the beginning of time and the bully is no more the cause of a suicide than a cardiac arrest is a cause of death. There are obviously bigger reasons here for Prince’s being suicidal; bullying perhaps the final stressor.

My other mind says that the bullies should definitely be held accountable for what they did. And so should the school admins who did nothing. They tell kids not to fight, have zero tolerance policies for the stupidest things and make every adult who graces the school campus for any length of time undergo a background check and then fail to protect them from a very real, internal threat.

It may not be a threat like being kidnapped, but bullying is hurtful and some cases (maybe Prince’s case was one such cases), bullying can be quite severe. It’s also no secret when it’s going on. Students and staff turn a blind eye and for meeker, more sensitive kids, the affects of bullying can be traumatizing.

I never told my mom I was being bullied. Maybe I was more resilient than others. Maybe mine wasn’t a severe case. But when The Boy told me there was a group of kids at his elementary school picking on him and he told me that the yard lady (as they call them) responded “it happens” I was a little irritated. If he had told me more than the little girl kicked him and they said things like “you think you’re cool” (all of which point to a schoolyard crush and/or jealous kids), I might have been more inclined to inquiring about more details. So I told the boy the girl probably thought he was cute and to kick her back next time.

That’s right. Kick her back. If you hit, you get hit back. And if the adults aren’t going to do anything, I think its more than fair for the kids to defend themselves within reason, and kicking a girl back after she’s kicked you every day for weeks, is definitely within reason.

The schools can’t have it both ways: don’t defend yourself but we won’t defend you either. Of course we don’t want them brawling every day, but kids also have to learn to work out their own schoolyard conflicts sometimes. It teaches them to protect themselves even if it means never actually having to fight anyone because they develop a sharp tongue and a quick wit (like I did ).

Learning to manage conflict also increases confidence. My eldest boy (The Kid) was pushed off of the monkey bars once. He hit his head really hard and had a stiff neck for a week or two. For a while he was afraid of the playground. He ate lunch in the classroom with his teacher and waited there to be picked up after school.

I told him that he had as much a right to play on the playground as that kid who pushed him and if he kept hiding he’d set a pattern of hiding and instead of facing his fear. About a week later I found The Kid playing out in the open. When I mentioned it, he grinned and told me he wasn’t worried about the bully anymore because he’d cornered him and beat him up. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be bothered again.

The Kid looked so proud and confident. He was holding his head up and smiling like I hadn’t seen him smile in a long time. In my mind I thought I should tell The Kid what he’d done was wrong. But he had gotten tired of hiding and faced down his bully the best way he knew how. And he wasn’t afraid anymore. Who was I to tell him that was wrong?

I guess I say all this to say that we all share responsibility and more severe cases: the parents, the teachers and school administrators, the classmates, the bullies and the kids being bullied.

Tags: bullies, current events, Jamie Prince, opinion

How being more food conscious has improved my quality of life

I’ve found myself recently hyper aware of my choices relating to food. This shift in thinking was gradual. I went from the boy looking at me with shock asking “Why would you cook?” to him practically begging me to get take out sometimes.

How did this shift take place?

I’d say in phases actually.

It started with me deciding that I was spending entirely too much money on take out. I was buying lunch everyday and getting take out or dinner most nights. I decided to test the cost of just grocery shopping against the cost of the take out meals. Of course, grocery shopping won out.

Then I saw the documentary The Future of Food. It focused largely on the effects of genetically modified food on the international food system. And I watched The Story of Stuff which talked about the high cost of consumer culture. Combined these got me to thinking more and more about sustainable living and really being conscious about how my consumer choices affect the larger system.

I also started thinking about my health, how the food I eat, affects my health and started buying more and more fresh (as opposed to prepackaged or frozen) foods. I started to notice that often when something had the lowest price, high fructose corn syrup was often the first ingredient. Either that or the quality of the product was seriously lacking in some way. I began to taste the difference between good quality, nourishing foods and foods that were just plain cheap and packed with lord knows what filler.

I began increasing my fruit and veggie intake; actually starting with the produce rather than the carbs and dairy products. I started looking at the ingredients and where the foods were coming from. The later actually led to an interesting and frustrating discovery. For all of the illusion of choice in our mega grocery stores, much of the products on the selves come from the same groups of companies.

Why does any store need four varieties of tortilla chips all from Texas, all from the Frito Lay company? Why is it that there are 5 “brands” of cat food, they’re all still Purina? Where is the choice in that? Three different types of milk: Alta Dena, Knudsen, Store brand; all owned by Dean Foods (a giant that has the American dairy industry locked down but has various brands all over the country for local production).

It was beyond frustrating.

And then I watched Food Inc. and became even more aware of the affects of corporatized food on the health of me and my family. I also feel slightly helpless to change it.

I mean, if the only brown rice in the store comes from Illinois and all the tortilla chips come from Texas and the breads from Mass and the apple sauce from Maine, how can I eat more locally (and thus more sustainably) without having to traipse all over the city for groceries? I tried gardening but its hard with apartment living and a black thumb (seriously, every plant I’ve had died very shortly after being re-potted). I can go to the tortillaria for tortilla chips but where do I go to get fresh baked bread or rice that doesn’t have to travel across the country?

Its a hard question, especially when the answer is deceptively simple: work a little harder to find the type of food I want.

You see, consumerism is also driven by laziness. We want things to be convenient. We don’t want to have to spend an hour preparing dinner after working all day so we throw some corn dogs in the oven or stop at a drive thru. We don’t want to have to go to four different stores so we opt for the convenient one stop shopping and deception of choice in the grocery stores.

But that convenience comes at a price; be it the cost of an over grown agribusiness dominated by factory farms or unintended environmental and ecological consequences. All of our laziness comes at a price and provides us little benefit. We carry the burden of this cost while the people who own the big food labels (not necessarily the farmers who run the factories) make money off of our consumer desire for convenience.

The truth is that since I started paying attention…since my consciousness began to increase, so has my quality of life. I don’t need it to be easy. I’ve begun enjoying the process of preparing meals and even sit at the table and have dinner with the boy on a regular basis. I feel the difference in my energy level and I’m healthier overall.

So the way I see it, trading convenience for an improved quality of life and dinner with my boy every night is totally worth it.

What would make the loss of convenience worth it for you?

Tags: Down With Consumerism, Food, Health, Quality of Life, Sustainability