screeching halt

sitting at dinner after a verrry long day at the hospital, my lovely 14 year-old daughter was asked about her day. usually, it is met with a nonchalant "it was okay..." but this night was different.

"oh, wow!!"

our ears perked up. not the typical response, she had our attention.

"ma, did you ever see the movie Crash?"

"uh, yeah...." stomach did a bit of a flop at that question. the movie disturbed me, very much. i remember blogging about it.

"we're watching it in tolerance class -- ma, that move is SO. GOOD!!"

i looked at jimbo in disbelief. i remember the R rating - since when does the school not consult the parents prior to showing something that is rated R? there was a scene toward the beginning of the movie i didn't actually write about, but it was over-the-top in graphic - a police officer sexually assaulted a woman that was in the car he had pulled over while her husband stood by and did and said nothing.

nothing.

that was my first thought -- why would i want my 14 year-old's eyes on that? her response was "do you think i don't know about that stuff? do you think i don't know that stuff happens?"

i asked, incredulously and carefully guarded my words: "did she fast-forward through the traffic stop?"

"no." she looked away.

"are the words bleeped over?" she laughed, again assuring me she has heard those words before.

are you kidding me? is this what i can expect from a "blue ribbon" high school?

"what is your tolerance teacher's name?"

"no way. you are NOT going to make any phone calls..."

"ok," was my unexpected response. while my daughter pretends she knows who she is dealing with, she really doesn't have a clue because after i did my 9:00 a.m. vital signs at work the next day, a phone call was made to her guidance counselor to obtain her teacher's name, and then my call (after a brief discussion) was passed along to the vice principal's office for further discussion. she was unavailable, but i was assured i would get a call back.

boy, did i.

she had been prepped prior to calling me by molly's guidance counselor. she already knew me, knew what i needed, and not only thanked me for opening up a dialogue for their next history department meeting, but assured me the entire staff in the principal's office would be renting Crash this weekend because none of them had seen it yet.

oh.
my.
GOD.

i unleashed -- "you mean to tell me that NOBODY IN YOUR OFFICE has seen a RATED R MOVIE that is being shown to IMPRESSIONABLE TEENAGERS? are you KIDDING ME?!?!"

while she was professional, courteous and genuinely concerned about what had transpired, we discussed why the movie itself would be good to show teens what the word "intolerance" means -- if the inappropriate scenes and words were deleted -- and if parents had received notice and been given the opportunity to have their children opt out of watching such a movie during classroom time, just how things could be remedied.

as an aside, the very same movie was showing on the FX network last night and it was dubbed over and although i didn't watch more than five minutes of it, since it is network television (bearing in mind i realize how much the envelope is pushed regardless of being network or cable t.v. now), i am assuming the more sexually graphic scenes would have been deleted or glossed over. why on earth could the teacher not obtain a toned-down copy for classroom? if this is such an important teaching film, do you not think such a copy would be available for use in classes such as "tolerance?"

two points: i understand why this movie was chosen. if you read my previous post when i saw the movie (linked above), you will understand why i was disturbed by it, but also recognize the value of this movie when teaching about racism, bigotry, hatred, love -- it is all in there. i understand the *why*, i just don't like being blind-sided when i should have had an involvement in the decision to allow my daughter to view it.

second point: i am not a soccer mom, pta member, or political figure in that high school. i am very selective about the causes i take up, but i am telling you this: if i don't hear back from them by wednesday (after the weekend when the office staff has rented this movie and had their committee meeting), another phone call will be made by me, and this time, it won't be to the vice principal.

(did that sound intimidating, at all? i am a lover, not a fighter, but when it comes to my children....)

what do you think? i would love to hear other opinions on this.

birthday musings

You came into this world at 2:37 a.m. on June 18, 1993. I remember it like it was yesterday - I had felt the onset of my labor pains earlier in the day and took to tending the garden and baking banana bread, indulged in a movie and finally called your dad home from work around 10:00 p.m. and said I thought it was "time." I met my doctor at the hospital at 11:30 p.m. and a little over three hours later you were born, tiny and precious and a girl, after two boys. We couldn't have been more pleased.

You were precious as a little one and I took many opportunities to photograph your gorgeous brown eyes. You were afraid of the "Happy Birthday" song up until you were six and were as shy as could be up until then, as well.

While you challenge me at every turn, you inspire me with your kindness toward animals, your fierce loyalty to your friends and especially your family --- you missed your 8th grade graduation this past Friday because it was your nanny & poppy's 50th wedding anniversary and handled yourself with a great deal of aplomb and grace and you made us exceedingly proud. Cool thing your Uncle did, presenting you with your actual diploma in front of 150 people at the party -- again, you were grace.

Happy 14th birthday, my beloved daughter. I wouldn't trade these past 14 years for the world, am proud of the amazing young woman you are already and am looking forward to the incredible lady you will become.

I love you,
Ma.

B. O. B.

I know I have had some pretty angsty, please-don't-leave-a-comment posts about my 13 year-old daughter Molly lately and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to pen something about her that is sweetness and light and will help me remember how things used to be and perhaps carry some of the memory with me as we approach 14...

~~~

I remember when my daughter was young, I was invited to a birthday party a friend was having for her then 3 year-old. Even so, I can recall being a bit of an introvert but I liked this girl and her husband and with nobody else home, made a go of it and packed Molly up for an afternoon of games and foodstuffs.

In reflecting upon that day, I call to mind Molly being very shy and introverted herself. She had no desire to join in any games with the other children, and especially not so when she eyed the swing that was hooked up to a gigantic oak tree in their back yard. Molly had loved her swing, ever since she was a tiny baby. She ran over to it like it was made especially for her, clambered in and I secured her and she started pushing and pulling her body weight on her own after a little encouragement from me behind her.

"What's her name?" asked the man who was approaching me with the Nikon camera hanging around his neck.

"Molly..."

"She is adorable...mind if I take a few shots of her?"

"Of course not!" I was pretty flattered that a professional photographer asked to take her picture.

Throughout our time at this barbecue, I noticed he took more than one. He later admitted he was pretty smitten with her and had had a daughter her age. It actually ended up being a very memorable party for many reasons, none the least of which was because around one month later, MJ called to tell me she had a stack of pictures from "that guy at the party with the camera..." I have posted portions of the collage frame because of their age and fragility, but you can get a good idea of what he saw through his lens: sweet abandon.

Every child has their "thinking" spot. Molly's is, and always has been, her swingset. She has been through three of them in our back yard and even now, and especially when she has had a bad day and doesn't want to *talk about it*, she goes "B.O.B." which means "Be Out Back."

"I'm going Bob," to which we respond, "we'll B.R.H.," (pronounced "Breh") which of course, means "Be Right Here."

She connects to something bigger than all of us when she is on a swing. She becomes other-minded and often after a lengthy period of time, returns to the house more focused. We tease her now and ask what we are going to do when she "outgrows" this particular swing and we need to replace it? She asserts that she will no longer desire to go Bob then, but I cannot imagine her being without the outlet.

...Even on rainy days, save for lightning and thunder.
...Windy days, when the forces of nature are blowing her more than she is battling against them, she is on her swing, prayerfully swinging away whatever has her worried or anxious, and returns to us as a different child altogether.

It is her soft place to land when things get tired and edgy in her life, and I know I have driven her to her swing on more than one occasion especially in the last few months.

Regardless of what happens between now and her advancing teenaged years, I will never forget my child who used to swing with sweet abandon. It serves to soften her edges as well as this mama's heart.