A Long Walk Home- Does a change in school culture point to a lack of core values?

It seems like every time I turn around lately someone else is talking about bullying in middle and high schools! Kids are being tripped in hallways and slammed against lockers. The words "gay" and "fag" are used as taunts. Girls are teased for not using sexual lingo or wearing their clothes too tight around their necks or too loose around their curves. Kids are ostracized for being poor, uncool, too smart, too dumb, too pimply, weak or ugly.

The response in schools is a desperate attempt to educate kids about the effects of bullying, and to crack down on the offenders. While these attempt are well-intentioned, I think they are cracking down on what seems to me to be a symptom of something much more ominous than locker-slamming, towel-snapping, foulmouthed arrogant bullies.

When my father was in the Peace Corps he was stationed in a tiny village on a small island in Micronesia. My dad has many stories about his experience living there, from eating fish eyes and doughnuts with flies in them, to killing spiders in his hut with a machete. But one story comes to mind right now. He told me about discipline in the schools in the village of Palou. If a child disobeyed in school, or was disrespectful, they were told that they would be walked home by the principle after school. That child would immediately start quaking in his seat, unable to focus on anything for the rest of the day... because he was prepared for the longest walk home of his life.

When the principle and the child arrived at the home, the parents would come to their door. The principle would gravely tell the parents that their child had spit on the floor at school, or mocked the teacher, or pushed a classmate. The parents would then step outside their hut to be whipped!

Now, don't go crazy. I am in no way in favor of public flogging, or private for that matter. However, this story illustrates how in this tiny village they believe it's the parent's responsibility was to raise a respectful child. If you fail, it's not the child's fault, it's yours!

So why do we, living in this progressive country, detatch ourselves from our child's actions and remain in the background of their moral upbringing? Why must they, alone, bare the consquence of an immoral act? It's like we raise them up through age five, then once they're off to school for seven hours a day, it's like, "Whew, now someone else can handle this!" Now, understand that I'm not talking about a particular "we," but more like a generalization of the masses. There are a percentage of us that are still taking responsibility for our children, who constantly work on their developing characters. However, I feel like a growing part of "the masses" send their children off to school, and when they do so, they immediately release all responsibility for not just education, but also socialization and character-building, to the public institution.

Why? Why is this okay? The schools are trying desperately to institute education and discipline policies to combat what seems to me a deeper issue of lack of integral values that are necessary for a peaceful society: love, compassion, understanding, justice, honesty. Did the kids just check these at the door when they scanned their security card in the lobby of Dead President High? Or did they never have these values to begin with? And honestly, why does it become the school's responsibility to raise children? Schools are for learning geometry, history, math, language, arts, science... NOT for learning how to be in the world. That is a parent's job, and if they are not doing it, then dammit, they should be flogged by the principle (hypothetically speaking, of course).

I am not going to pretend that I am a perfect parent. My children have their own socialization issues. But I am addressing them full force, always reinforcing the values I feel are most important (honesty and compassion). One of my children has been on the locker side of the shove for several years. The school continues to battle bullying with "friendship keys" and counselling... for HIM! NO. I want to talk to the parents of the kid who framed my son for writing "fuck" on the bathroom wall, who called him names, who made him cry. I want to know why that child is lacking in important human values. I want that parent to say that they are addressing the situation. I want that child to say he/she is sorry they hurt my child. No-one is taking responsibility... except the schools (some schools do a better job than others), and even then they are only combatting the results (a bully). Who is addressing the fact that a child doesn't have enough compassion to care about another student, to be intentionally mean to one of his peers?

Lately (I'd say all within the past ten days) I have read a blog post, watched a movie, seen two news reports, and had a converstaion with a distraught mom, all focused on bullying and the tumultuous social climate in the higher grades in public school. It probably happens in private school, too, so I'm not playing favorites. It makes me ask myself, if it takes a village to raise a child, do I want it to be that village? That's not a village, it's like "Lord of the Flies!" And I'm sorry, if you think posting "Bully Free Zone" on the cafeteria wall, handing out flyers with keys to being a good friend, and giving detention to the trippers and name-callers is going to cure the problem, I think you are delusional about the depth of the issue.

Maybe the school principles need to walk some children home.

To Err is Human

We all make mistakes. When we cease to make mistakes, we cease to learn and grow intellectually and spiritually. We cease to be human, and therefore create a disconnect from our brothers and sisters that I believe is essential to the development of inner peace.



I am the first to admit that I make mistakes. I make a lot of mistakes. I also admit to having made a lot of mistakes. Furthermore, I strive to apologize for those mistakes directly to the people that may have been affected by them.



Now, I am not going to say that I realize my mistakes right away. Often it takes some pain, tears, or other such consequences with subsequent inner searching and turmoil before I realize that I have done something wrong. (When I say "wrong," I mean "against my inner core of morality.") But through the inevitable repetition of this process, I feel like I have gained such spiritual insight and emotional growth. I am now at a point where the act of recognition and apology is freeing. It is an amazing feeling to own your actions, even the wrong ones.



By doing this, you give yourself the power to release them. You then open yourself up to forgiveness.



Let me give you an example from my own life. Back when I was director of the Infant and Toddler program at Petoskey Montessori, I made a mistake. In reconfiguring the classroom, I neglected to put safety locks on a door that was newly accessible to the children. Subsequently, four toddlers escaped the classroom when their attendant left them alone in that part of the classroom. They ran down the ramp and out into the parking lot, which was adjacent to a busy road. While they were quickly spotted by our staff and returned safely to the building, the parents became uneasy about the care of their children while they were under my supervision.



This situation caused me a lot of turmoil. I remember wanting to get angry at the caregiver for not staying with her allotted children. I remember feeling anxious about my own capabilities as director. I remember feeling horrified that I could have put these children in danger. I also remember feeling upset that those children were not taught by their parents to stay inside the school (I didn't have children yet). But finally, after feeling all of these things, I submitted to the fact that it was ultimately my responsibility... and I had made a mistake.



I called those parents, and I apologized (with silent tears in my eyes). It was probably the most intense and stomach-wrenching thing I had ever done. But you know what? I felt a tension release between myself and those parents, even across a telephone line. This apology opened up the floodgate for open and honest conversation, and we were able to rebuild the families' trust in the school. Ultimately, I was also able to regain confidence in my own ability to do my job.



While those parents didn't actually say, "I forgive you," I could feel that they trusted me again. By taking responsibility for my actions, by not getting defensive, over-explaining, or pawning off responsibility on someone else, by being honest... I helped build a human connection that was invaluable in my relationship with them.



That was nine years ago. Since then I have made countless mistakes. Each one has been a learning experience, helping me build important character traits like grace and humility. Now, I have a lot more mistakes to go before I can claim any kind of moral perfection. Indeed, that type of claim would indicate that I had many more mistakes to go! But I now look at mistakes not as something to defend, hide, avoid or suppress, but as learning experiences that bring me closer to the people around me.

We walk a common ground of living imperfection. And it's beautiful.

To err is human. To accept those errors with grace is an integral tool for building authentic, honest, human connections.

Jesus, Mohammad, and Buddha Meet at a Cocktail Party

Everyone has been at a cocktail party, or a in a car headed out on a field trip with some moms from your kid's class, or in church coffee hour, where you have been in a position to make small talk with people you don't really know that well. The conversation might look something like this:



"Hey, how's it going?" says you.

"Fine, and you," responds strange person.

"I'm Joe, nice to meet you."

"Oh, I'm Sam. Good to meet you."

"Do you live around here?" you ask.

"Yeah, right down on such and such a street."

"Oh yeah, I live around the corner on and that other street. You lived there long?"

"Sure, grew up in the neighborhood," says Joe.

"No kidding, me, too!" you respond. "Did you go to President's Name High school?"

"Yes! Played football there. Love the game. You watching the Big College Name Game tongiht?"

You get the picture. But here's what I'm thinking... While it might sound like meaningless garble that these two people are wasting their time with, I don't think so. What they are doing is probing eachother to find some common ground, something by which to relate to one another. In their trivial question and answering, they are finding a starting point for their relationship!

So, what might it sound like of Jesus, Mohammad, and Buddha ran into one another at a cocktail party? Hmmm, let's speculate.

After the three prophets greet eachother with names and handshakes, I'd like to think the conversation would go some thing like this...

Jesus: What do you do?

Mohammad: I'm in public relations.

Jesus: Oh, yeah? Me, too! For what company?

Mohammad: Islam, Inc. Been there for oh, about 2700 years. You?

Jesus: Christianity and Co. Let's see, been doing this for about 2000 years or so.

Buddha, softly: It's been about 2600 years for me. But, ahhh, I have a friend... His name is Vishnu... he was kind of my mentor, he's been in it for around 4000 years... He got me interested because he said this work would really touch people's lives. I think it does... [he pauses in though while Jesus turnes his glass of ice water into wine]. I think the most rewarding thing about the job is that you really get to give people the tools to live a peaceful life.

Jesus: I agree. My work really helps people find their way to God.

Buddha: And God is peace, love, enlightenment. God is in everything and everyone.

Mohammad, scratching his beard: I think the toughest part of my job is that you often get a group of radicals who take something way off track. Then everyone thinks the whole company thinks like they do. That's a rough one to try and mop up.

Jesus shakes his head in agreement: I know, the Crusades were a toughy for me.

Mohammad: Mmmm, and all this terror in the name of jihad! Where do they come up with this? Allah didn't intend us to kill one another. That's not bringing anyone closer to Him. It's just not congruent with the mission statement of my company, unless someone has rewritten it without telling me.

All the men nod and look deeply into their cups, taking a moment of silence.

They go their seperate ways, agreeing to meet for coffee some time. They discovered they had a lot in common after all, and thought there might be some networking they could do to make eachother's jobs a little easier.

My point with this story is to illustrate that studying the world's faith traditions is very important to creating peace in this world. Because no matter what faith you are, in making "small talk" with the other religions, you may just find some common ground on which to build a healthy relationship.

We Are One

When I was flipping through a magazine recently, something interesting caught my attention. It was a half page article bullet-pointing the main characteristics of Hinduism. Now, it caught my attention because I have been studying Hinduism in depth lately for a writing project I'm working on... and I find the religion absolutely fascinating. Anyway, here's what really grabbed me about the article: It stated that Hindus worship many gods, but may choose one particular God to which they focus greater attention.

It is my understanding that this statement is absolutely not true. Hindus do not worship many gods. Hindus believe that there is but one God, which they call Brahma. The other prominent images in Hinduism, such as Ganesh and Vishnu, Shiva and Rama, are simply an incarnation of that one God that embodies specific characteristics. So, for example, I am simply one "me." But I am also mother, daughter, sister, wife, friend... each of these aspects of myself projects a different aspect of my character. It personalizes the relationship that someone has with me. This is how Hindus relate to God.

Will you see various images being worshipped at shrines and temples, on home alters and depicted in books? Yes. These images help the worshipper to invoke different attributes of him or herself: With Vishnu it's balance and ultimate good, with Shiva it might be self-control, or with Ganesh- wisdom. One might pray to the characters of Ramayana when seeking out the path within the construct of family... how to be a good wife, brother, father or son. The way a Hindu worships these "gods" might be similar to how a Catholic prays to different saints, or to the Holy Trinity. (However, I haven't begun to dig deeply into Christianity, yet... Maybe that will be my next project! But which denomination of Christianity? There are so many!)

To further illustrate my point that Hinduism in not polytheistic, I discovered that Hindus believe that even when a Christian prays to Christ or a Muslim to Allah, they are all praying to the same God. God is one. Not that the other religions are praying to the Hindu God, they take no ownership over God. They simply believe there is One, and people choose to worship Him in different ways.

Would this message of complete inclusion of all religions, as simply different paths to the same God, build a peaceful world if it were deeply embedded in every faith tradition? I tend to think so.

But I have so much to learn...

Running, Ghost Hunting, and Salsa

Many of you know that I have recently started running. But you might be surprised about the reason why I took up this rigorous and often painful (albeit healthy) activity! I didn't start running necessarily for health, for weight loss, for muscle toning. I didn't start running to clear my mind or run away from something. I actually started running to get closer to something... uh, er, someONE. I ran for the connection Jay, my partner of over thirteen years.

Somewhere along the road our journeys, while staying parallel, split into seperate paths. We no longer shared many common interest. We disagreed about where to go on date nights, we didn't enjoy the same movies or books, we filled up our free time (what little of it there was) volunteering for different organizations, often going out with different friends, or reading different books on opposite ends of the couch. He wasn't interested in what was happening to Rachel in "The Red Tent," and I really wasn't too interested in hearing a detailed description of the Masonic symbols as recited from "Freemasonry for Dummies." Our road somehow forked, and we diverged.

When we realized this, I decided it was time for me to rediscover my relationship with my husband. How could I connect? Well, I couldn't become a Freemason... I'm pretty sure that's now allowed. But I could run. And I was pretty sure it would be good for me in more ways than one. So I told Jay to sign me up for running the Susan G Komen Race for the Cure with him! We'd for a team: Team "Will Run for Boobs!" He was surprised and happy, I think, that I was taking some interest in one of his passions!

It was slow going for me, but after a couple of weeks I was running 5k! I would call him with raspy breath and give him my new best time! We'd talk about routes through the neighborhood, or the vertigo you get when you hop off the treadmill. He's going to help me get my Race web page going. Meanwhile, I am getting healthier and feeling better about myself!

I know it seems like a small thing, but I'm sure this interest I started showing in one of JASON's hobbies has helped us reconnect to one another on a deeper level. It shows him that I apreciate him and am interested in what he does. In turn, he has gone out Salsa dancing with me... something that he would NEVER choose to do on his own! And we had an absolute blast!

Next week we plan on combining one of his favorites with one of mine... Salsa lessons and ghost hunting! So I guess what I'm getting at is this: If you feel like you are missing something in your relationship, don't try to ask your partner to find it. YOU find it! Try showing some interest in one of your partner's hobbies... ask them to show you how to cook that famous souffle that they make so perfectly, dust off the bikes and have him show you how to trail ride, take an art or dance class together, ask her about that online game she is so engrossed in or that movie he's been wanting to see. I guarantee, even if it's not your favorite activity, it will make your partner swell with love for you... just that you CARE about something important to them.

Okay, well, that's enough "Dear Abby" advice for today. It's just been on my mind so I thought I'd share my discovery with you... in case it might help you too!

Now, if anyone else is interested in ghost hunting and Salsa dancing.... ;)

Pieces of Peace

Last night was Goddess Night... Ahhhh, Goddess night... the second Friday of the month, from 7:30pm until (well, um... late) is a sacred time for me and the women who gather at the church to share this incredible journey we call womanhood. This particular Friday night happened to be incredibly moving for me for several reasons.

First, it was an amazing feat of time juggling to get the children coordinated for the evening. Jason was in Detroit for a masonic speaker for the first part of the night, so it was time to call in the troops. Hah! I couldn't be more appreciative for my friend in Livonia who took Kayden rollerskating and made some delicious popcorn balls for a late movie (as evidenced by the blue marshmallow lips :), and to another friend for hosting Chailyn for a fun play date! Thanks to our gracious friends, each of our family members spent an evening nurturing our spirits in our own separate ways! I went to sleep last night feeling such gratitude for the people that surround me, who bring me peace in so many ways. ((( yes, sigh here )))

Second, the content of the Goddess evening was very deep and meaningful. Mary lead the group in a meditation that drew out the light in each and every woman in the room and connected us in a circle of life. We went on to our check-in, as usual, but this time it seemed that each woman had a unique narrative of creating healthy relationships within their families that was truly touching and inspiring. At one point, when Jeanie was talking about her recent accomplishments with her work against puppy mills, an explosion of warmth actually erupted in my chest and spread throughout my body. That feeling of warmth and connectedness continued through out the night... from the conversation over plates of food to the closing when we shared what gave us peace at the end of the day. I went home feeling completely content, like a warm blanket wrapped around my soul.

And indeed, I have been finding peace in my life lately. But I didn't find it in one place, like a treasure chest buried in the sand. Instead I found little pieces of it in many different places. One surprising place I found a piece was in my own body! I have been running. I started running because I registered for the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure in May, so I thought I'd better prepare myself. But once I started, I couldn't stop. For the first time this week, I ran three miles in under forty minutes! It felt GREAT to reach that milestone. Not to mention that the exercise, combined with a little bit of food control, have helped me lose eight and a half pounds since the beginning of February. I am discovering first hand just how connected are the body and mind. When I don't at least take a very long walk on a given day, I feel drowsy and down by night fall. The body and mind go hand in hand, or even closer! They are just two part of one organism... our self!

I found another piece in ritual. My family started an evening prayer ritual that has helped us connect to one another, and to really be introspective in regard to our own thoughts and behaviors. We gather in the meditation room. The children light a candle and Kayden usually says, "I have a light in me." Chailyn recites a prayer that he made up about peace, love, and light. We ring a chime for a short silent meditation on a topic that the kids come up with. We have had peace, the light in us, respect, etc... Then we talk about our thoughts. We reflect on how we could have behaved more according to whatever principle we meditated on. We forgive ourselves for mistakes and vow to do our kindest the next day. We end with the chalice meditation, a squeeze pass, and a collective extinguishing of the candle. This short ritual has brought our family together in so many ways. It has put "the spiritual path" directly into the course of our day, which can often become forgotten alongside the megahighway of daily routine.

The last piece was found scattered among my friends and family. Truly, the relationships that I have are like that warm blanket wrapped around my soul. I have been closer to Jason than ever (as he is also working on his inner peace). We are sharing an understanding, respect, and joy that can often drown under more than a decade of marriage. And after last night, I realized again how amazing it is to have a network of support in a practical way... but little do all of the amazing people in my life know that the practical support has an underlying layer of love and caring that shines through each and every time they reach out a hand to help. True friendship... that is what completes my circle of peace.

As the old adage so profoundly states: The size of a heart is not measured by how much one loves, but by how much one is loved by others. Hmmm, I feel my heart swelling just now...

May peace be with you... body, mind, and spirit.

It Takes a Village

"It takes a whole village to raise a child." This African proverb makes so much sense in the context of a rural village... small huts with thatched roofs, fire pits where women roast vegetables and pound grains, men hunt and build and worship, grandmothers weave baskets and share stories while children play about their feet. We can visualize this village. But what is a village in America in 2010?



I gave birth to my son when I was twenty-three. One of the first gifts I received was Dr. Spock's "manual for raising children." I was also in Montessori training at the time, where I was introduced to Waldorf, attachment parenting, and the Montessori method, just to name a few. I had no shortage of experts instructing me on the best way to be a parent. But in spite of hours of study on the subject, when my mother left my home to go back to Chicago, and I found myself standing in my living room with a week-old son, I felt unsure of myself and very alone.

It wasn't until my daughter was born that I really identified that feeling of solitude. We had just moved to an apartment in Northville, Chailyn was three, Jason was working, and I knew no-one. I wanted to pack up everything I owned and move "home!" Well, at least back to where I had my career, my work community (which was a school), where I knew the stores and the parks and the routine. But I knew that was not possible, so I set out to make friends. I began to take the kids (double stroller and all) to the coffee hour at our complex's clubhouse. This is where I met the four women who got me through the next year... ahhh, but my memory fails, and now I can't even remember all of their names. But Marla was from northern Michigan originally, like me. We began to work out together and have play dates. Priti was from India, and I can still remember the deicious smells in her apartment and the way she entertained the children with her piano. Then there was the woman from Mexico, whose children barely spoke English... but they had a traditional Mexican birthday party for the son complete with an indoor pinata!! Chailyn loved that! Finally, a fourth woman from Finland who moved to a condominium in Novi before we moved to Livonia.

These women, from all over the world, became my little "family." While my mother, aunts, and mother-in-law were reachable by phone, I had no women (sisters, cousins, friends) close to me that I could turn to for help walking this tightrope that is mothering. And the pages of a book provided no comfort. But these women gave me with a taste of what I needed to make it through those really tough years. Sometimes it was as simple as suggesting a toy, a food, or a relaxation technique. Other times it was sharing a glass of wine and some quiet time without the kids. These connections meant so much to all of us. But, as apartment living often dictates, we all moved away into homes or to different states following husbands' jobs. Our little cluster of women broke apart.

I found myself in Livonia, once again in search of a "community." I was determined to create my own "village" no matter what it took. Nearly four years ago, when my family walked the gravel parking lot into a little white chapel on a hill, that is exactly what we did. We began to build relationships that would fill the gaps in our family, which is spread all over the country. We have made close friends that are like aunts and uncles to our children... I have met women who have become like sisters to me.

I have also developed relationships with women who have experienced life, who share their stories and their knowledge with such openness and honesty. These women have given me a shoulder to cry on, advice when I sought it, laughter to rejoice in, and a smile or a hug to greet me on Sunday morning. These are women who have been through so much, who have so much to give, and they hold a very special place in my heart.

My family has also become close with several families in our neighborhood. We help eachother with child care, with home projects, with rides to basketball practice or bus pickup. We watch out for eachothers' homes, pets, children. Sometimes we just share lemonade on the back porch while kids play together in the yard. Sometimes we share sorrows and cry. They are also a part of my village.

This village is a place where I feel safe, where I feel loved, where I feel accepted for who and what I am. This village is a place where I give just as much as I receive... where I give my time, love, and energy with an open heart, and without keeping a log of what I have spent. And that is what I receive in return.

Without my village, I would not be who I am today... as I would like to think that without me, my village would not be the same. Together we become just exactly the community we need. Thank you, sincerely, for being a part of my village.