Tag Archives | children

the men from the boys

So we’re at the beach. Liam has a shovel and begins to dig.

Husband: are you making a sandcastle?

Liam: Nope. Digging a hole.

Husband: Just digging a hole? No castle?

Liam: Nope. Just a hole.

Husband: What about a tunnel?

Liam: Nope.

Husband: Who just digs a hole?

Liam: Me. I just want to dig a hole.

Husband: But why?

Liam: Because. It’s going to be a really deep hole.

And there it is. The difference between men and boys isn’t necessarily the price of their toys. It’s why you dig.




Continue Reading · on August 16, 2012 in Children, family

maybe THIS murder will change things?

I wasn’t going to write anything about Trayvon Martin. His murder happened a long way away, and the newspapers here in Abu Dhabi are filled with plenty of stories of murder and mayhem (Syria, anyone?). Plus, you know, he’s African American and the murder happened in Florida, and so really, who am I, as a white woman in the Middle East, to weigh in on the terrible thing that happened to him and his family? Isn’t that the way the logic goes? That if it doesn’t directly relate to our lives, we don’t get involved?

Maybe I could say, as Mom-101 did so persuasively, that I’m a mom and so one mother’s pain is also my own.  Or maybe I could say that I’m a mom who wants her sons to grow up without fear of someone thinking they look “suspicious” (my kids have darker-than-white skin and shiny black hair.  They don’t look African American but I suppose you could think they look vaguely Arabic. And you know that all Arabs are terrorists, right?)  Charles M. Blow, in the Times, writes about his fear of his own children ending up like Trayvon…I suppose that all parents worry that something terrible will happen to their children, but for some parents, that worry is more real than others.

Here’s the thing: it seems to me that as long as our country refuses to moderate its insatiable appetite for guns,  all our children are at risk.

Because beyond the simple heart-breaking fact that Trayvon is someone’s son is the fact that his death is–again–about our country’s love affair with guns and vigilante-ism, about our insistence that “they” (whoever they are at the moment) are dangerous and that “we” are always on the verge of being attacked.

Frightened people imagine attackers everywhere, which seems to be how George Zimmerman, Trayvon’s killer, looked at the world.  Zimmerman saw Trayvon as the boy was walking home from the convenience store, where he bought Skittles and iced tea; the gated community neighborhood was unfamiliar to Trayvon because he was visiting, spending some time with his father and his father’s fiancee.  Mr. Zimmerman, a volunteer for the neighborhood-watch patrol, saw Travyon walking home and thought he “looked suspicious.”  Now, in some places, “neighborhood watch” means folks strolling around the block chatting with their friends and picking up errant trash.  In this neighborhood, though, the volunteer had a concealed weapon and was cruising around in his SUV.

What made Trayvon look suspicious? I mean, Skittles are a pretty friendly looking candy, don’t you think? Well, apparently Trayvon was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, with the hood up. Up, of course, is a clear danger signal. I’m sure the color of Trayvon’s skin had nothing to do with Zimmerman’s concern.

Well, folks, we know how it ends. What with one thing and another (and in defiance of the police operator, who told Zimmerman to stay in the car until an officer arrived in the neighborhood), Zimmerman got out of his car, chased Trayvon, and then Trayvon was dead on the ground.  Zimmerman claims he shot the boy in self-defense, which when you kill someone in Florida can be an extenuating factor.

Self-defense? A 28 year old man with a gun against a 17 year old unarmed boy?

Zimmerman has not been arrested and no charges have been filed against him.

The Republican nominees for President have not said a word about Trayvon. I guess they’re too busy discussing the best ways to keep women barefoot and pregnant.

Astonishingly, however, Obama hasn’t contacted Trayvon’s family either, which reveals (again) the minefield created when racial politics intersect the politics of gun control.

Trayvon–and all the other children who have been the victims of gun-related violence–deserve more than silence. What happened to Trayvon deserves to be screamed about, shouted about, twittered, tumblr’d, pinterested, and facebooked. He deserves more than his own hashtag (although he’s got one now); and his family deserves more than the police chief saying “the evidence doesn’t establish so far that Mr. Zimmerman did not act in self-defense.”

If Zimmerman hadn’t been armed, Trayvon would be alive. It’s as simple as that. I realize that I’m shouting into the howling wilderness, but I’ll say it anyway: with stricter gun laws, Columbine would have ended differently; Virginia Tech would have ended differently; and so would have that Florida evening in February.  Remember how after Columbine and Virginia Tech people were sure that this time, gun laws would become stricter?

Should we even bother to hope that Trayvon’s death might finally, finally stir people to speak out against the gun lobby?

I know they say that guns don’t kill people, people kill people. But you know what? It’s really hard to kill someone with a bag of Skittles and a hoodie sweatshirt.


Update: on Monday, the US Justice department opened a probe into Trayvon’s death. George Zimmerman still sleeps in his own bed, in the comfort of his own home.  Update unrelated to heart-breaking tragedy: yeah write is open for linkups, so click on through and follow the conversation.  Then come back on Wednesday to vote for your favorite posts.

Continue Reading · on March 18, 2012 in Abu Dhabi, Kids, Politics, ranting

monday listicles: sentimentality enclosed

Valentine’s Day today.  Excessive pink sentiment has pervaded even here: stores filled with heart-shaped chocolates, kids exchanging valentines at school…men scurrying through the streets clutching bouquets.

Stasha says today’s list is about “things you love,” so I thought I’d tell you about my Valentine’s Day:

1. Was awakened by smiling children already dressed for school, each carrying a home-made valentine’s card for me.

2. Shuffled into the kitchen where Husband had made breakfast and coffee and in a serious sign of affection, prepared the lunch-boxes.

3. Taught my classes, met students, and then spent the afternoon getting a luscious pedicure.

4. Came home to a beautifully prepared meal, a bottle of champagne, and a spotless house.



Sorry. Wrong movie. Hear that scratching sound? Yeah, that’s the tape re-winding.

1. Wake up to my alarm and a silent apartment.

2. Roust sleeping children who grumble but who are also delectably soft and cuddly.

3. Shuffle into the kitchen. Make coffee. Wonder why I ever got in the habit of making my children a hot breakfast every day. Idiot. Why don’t I just serve them baggies of cold cereal they can eat dry, on the bus to school? Realize that because they have such pathetic diets (if I were a French mother, I wouldn’t have this problem, naturellement), breakfast is the only meal where I can pack nutrients into their bony bodies.

4. Remember I have to drive them to school instead of have them take the bus. Dress in a hurry, hope my earrings match, grab my materials for class, hope I’ve not forgotten anything, get in the elevator to the lobby, remember I forgot my phone, go back up to the apartment, back down to the lobby, into the car, battle traffic, get kids to school on time.

5. Drive back from school after a meeting, battle traffic, find a parking place on campus, get to my own class with five minutes to spare.

6. Teach. Am brilliant. Or might have been brilliant. Have no real idea what the hell I was talking about, but the students were writing it down.

7. Drive to a meeting. Drive back to the school to pick up a child from sports practice. Drive home. Begin to help other child with some kind of clay mountain-building project for geography class.

8. Make dinner for children. Husband does not have dinner; he is packing for a five-day departure trip to Australia.

9. Bid adieu to Husband. Tell him I hope our children don’t become completely feral in his absence.

10. Put children to bed. Remember that I need to write a blog post and prepare for class. Decide that a glass of wine at this point would ensure that neither of these tasks get done.

11. Find beautiful necklace and earrings that Husband left me as a Valentine’s Day present.

12. Remember the other day, when he drew this in the sandy dust of a table where we were going to have lunch:

Husband is much better at “we” than I am.  It’s one of the many, many reasons why I am still glad he’s my valentine.

Continue Reading · on February 14, 2012 in Abu Dhabi, family, marriage, Monday Listicle

An MLK Day Wish

Here’s proof that my six year old may be smarter than many members of Congress:

Wouldn’t that be great? If people could stop selling guns instead of just observing a moment of silence as they did today, outside a gun show in Tucson? What good, exactly, is a moment of silence? I mean, it’s nice and all, but ultimately? Do we need Glocks to “keep this country free,” and all that?

To go with his dream, Caleb drew a before and after picture:

Do you notice that after the shooting has been X’ed out, there’s sunshine?

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Continue Reading · on January 16, 2011 in Children, Politics

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