Art in the classroom

When my daughter was in elementary school, the PTA purchased a program called Art Vistas that brought classic works of art into the classroom and encouraged kids to explore their creativity.

It was tailor made for me! I couldn’t wait to volunteer for it, but for two years someone else beat me to it. I was so disappointed. Sure, there were other things I could do to help out, but I studied art history in college, for heaven’s sake, I wanted that job!

My daughter was in third grade when I finally got it. I split the role with another mom and we had a great time.

ReedArtShow

The program they purchased included a lesson in Art History and an Art Project that focused on a specific aspect of design or color theory. There were 2D and 3D projects to make, as well as a variety of mediums to try. Each grade had a different theme with different works showcased so there was never a repeat. There were 6 lessons per year and at the end we put on a big Art Show so the students could show off their work.

It was the best volunteer experience! I would prepare by reading through the history lesson and pulling the works of art to showcase from a giant (organized) pile of them in a supply closet. One lesson included telling the stories of artists behind the old masters to illustrate a lesson in portraiture, followed by having the kids pair up and draw each other. Another lesson highlighted the bold colors and shapes of abstract artists and the kids used oil pastels to create their own. We learned about landscapes, the rule of three, shadow, contrast, pointillism, Georgia O’Keefe, Jackson Pollack and much more.

I had the best time working with the kids and seeing them explore their artsy side. One of my proudest volunteer moments came when I asked a class full of 5th graders if they had a favorite artist and almost every single one of them did. It honestly brought tears to my eyes.

Art is this secretly amazing, mind-expanding experience. It seems like everyone recognizes this in pre-school, but as kids grow up there’s suddenly no time for it.

What’s worse, it becomes something they “can’t” do.

“I’m bad at art” is one of those statements that kids (and adults) make that makes absolutely no sense. The term “Art” is so inclusive that everyone can, truly, do wonderful things.  Remember this scene from the Princess Diaries?

SERIOUSLY – you can create Art.

Take the challenge this week — Don’t take yourself too seriously, make a mess, and have a little fun!

P.S. If you haven’t seen that movie in a while, you really should watch it again!

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Stronger than she looks

She’s always been the little sister. Not just younger, but really little. Smaller than her friends, delicate features, and just all around fun-sized.

Bec and friends

Bec (pink shirt) with friends in 2009. Everyone in this photo is the same age. Notice how they are almost a head taller than her.

Her petite frame comes in handy for gymnastics, a sport that favors the small. She’s in her third year of competing and we have certainly seen the skills improve, but there is something else… she is so strong!

I don’t know if you are familiar with the work out schedule that competitive gymnasts keep. My husband, a former Naval Officer, calls it the SEAL Team work out. Core strength, arm strength, leg power, flexibility … and always with toes pointed, head up and a smile.

She loves it. She had a short break over the summer, and couldn’t wait to get back in the gym. She loves her team members, she love competing, she loves the whole package.

She tried various activities – volleyball, basketball (yes, short as she is, she was awesome on the court!), and dance. Last year she was a cheerleader in addition to a gymnast. But it is in the gym that she smiles brightest, works hardest and feels strongest.

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Working on a new skill with her new trio and new coach.

That’s my girl in the white leotard and the black shorts. She loves being the base. The steady, strong person that holds other people up.

That pretty much describes her personality, too.

She’s the go to person for friends, the one who knows the right flavor of ice cream to soothe a broken heart or the goofy face that will bring a smile. She believes in herself enough to cheer on competitors, even when they get the gold.

She’s a strong kid. So much stronger than she looks.

Being her own advocate: Growing up with Learning Disabilities

Imagine that you are afraid of public speaking, I mean really terrified of it. And yet, had a job that required you to address large groups everyday. The people around keep saying that it will get better, that the support is in place, that you will be fine.

But you are not. It is just that sinking feeling in your gut day after day day after day.

When you have a learning disability, walking into class everyday goes beyond a struggle with the alarm clock. It is day after day of feeling like you are dumb, that you are hopeless. The struggle is constant.

We have tried tutoring and any number of therapies, this is not a post about one approach versus another. It is about learning to speak up for yourself.

In elementary school, I met with teachers, bought books, and searched for ways to help my daughter. In Junior High the district finally acknowledged that her low Math grades were the result of a disability, not a lack of trying. Once high school started, we had a 504 plan in place to that outlined accommodations for her.

For many years, she could not admit just how badly she was struggling. We knew some, of course, it was all over her face. But learning to express the frustration came with maturity. We would have to wait … and teach.

As a mom, our natural instinct is to protect our babies. Keep them safe from harm, make their world one that is full or rainbows and happiness. When someone raises a finger against them, we go into full attack mode to defend them.

There is nothing wrong with that (well… usually) but, if I am being honest with myself, my job is to teach her the skills she needs to defend herself.

She is learning. She proactively approached her Math teacher on the first day of school to explain about her disability. She attempts every problem, but will ask for me to check her work. She takes the news that some of them (or all of them) are wrong with a stiff upper lip and says, “Ok. I will try again.” She has (mostly) gotten past the days when the frustration took agonizing chunks out of her self-esteem.

Then today happened. Today she said she almost cried in class.

The mama bear in me had been poked! A plan started formulating a in my head, what to say, what meetings to hold, what data I would need to bring… I almost couldn’t hear the rest of the story.

It turns out she was exploring her own ideas. She was gauging her feelings, and figuring out what she needed to say to her teacher. She had already weighed the idea of a 1:1 meeting and did not feel it was necessary at this time. She was building her own plan.

Our job as parents is to help them grow into strong, independent adults. She is getting there before my eyes. We will ALWAYS be here to support her, it is just a little tough to see that she doesn’t need the mama bear to defend her.

I am so proud, but I also feel the sting of tears in my eyes. The same sting all parents feel on the day when their little one heads into school without holding their hand, when they first go to sleep away camp, when they go on their first date…

I know it will all be ok. She’s totally got this.

Odd One Out – A poem about being Autistic, in her words

I have written about my daughter before (and here). This morning I turned on our home computer to listen to music and found her homework on the screen. What I read made me sob with pride. With her permission, I am sharing it here.

Our journey was filled with doubt and questions and pain and mistakes and worry. Autism is different in every kid, which means that every family has to find their way through the forest alone. Yes, there are experts and resources available, but what works for one child may not work for another. Your journey is unique.

Her high school requires a year long Sophomore Service Learning Project. Through assignments in History and English classes, students study a “world problem” and present their findings at the end of the year. This poem was part of an English assignment.

If you know a child with Autism or Asperger’s Syndrome, I hope this brings you some peace. There is hope for a bright future.

Odd One Out

When I was diagnosed

It made my mother

Cry

And my father was

Pensive

They were very afraid

Of what would become

Of me

I look up and then look

Down because the world is

Overwhelming

My peers always avoid me

They know that I am

Different

Feeling that others can

Cover are not so easy to

Control

The anger, the worry, and the

Sorrow are all so plainly

There

Now I ask you this

Will I always be the

Odd One Out?

No!

The therapy is working

They have put me on a

Diet

I do much better in school

And I can look in your

Eyes

I now have friends

That I see almost

Everyday

I found out my obsession

Can be the key to my

Future

Just like Warhaul, Gates

And Zucherberg too

The geniuses

I go to regular school

And I see a counselor

Whom aids me with

Life skills

Don’t focus on the bad

I can never be

Cured

But I know I will go far

That you can be

Sure

Please do not be afraid

Because I know I will

Prevail

And so will your child

If they have the proper

Care

They will find the things

That ignites the sparks

Within

It’s the key to their

Futures

Believe me when I say

They will not always be

The Odd One Out


Girls bully, too: A comment on princesses and how we treat women that “can”

Ok – just read this post by Peggy Orenstein. It’s not new, it was originally published in November.http://peggyorenstein.com/blog/why-princesses-wont-be-presidentsThis “princess” connection is fascinating to me. One of my daughters was very into princesses, etc. so to me its not the “evil” empire that some people feel that it is. But then when my daughter was invited to a princess party with other 6 year olds, she went as a pirate. Not a pirate princess, a pirate.  I guess I just had a different princess-parenting experience.I see the do-it-all-perfectly-and-effortlessly thing differently, I suppose. I don’t associate that with princesses at all. I associate it with the way women talk and the way they judge each other.

I think the limiting factor here is the very real possibility that you will be publicly shamed for leaving your house without perfect make-up, making the slightest mistake or showing any effort whatsoever.

Look at the number of articles related to Hilary Clinton’s hairstyle vs. Madeleine Albright! (FYI – 1.1 million in .25 seconds vs 180k in .53 seconds)

It is sad but true.

My 16 yo is presenting a seminar to teenagers this weekend at a local 4H leadership conference. The topic is bullying, with an emphasis on how to support the victim. She has done a lot of research to prepare and one of the stats she pulled was about the shocking percentages of girls that experience emotional bullying through negative comments DAILY. The comments might be about their hairstyle, their clothes, their grades, etc. but very often girls EXPECT to hear negative comments from their peers with any sort of achievement. In contrast, boys could expect bullying to be more physical and tended to be doled out to those who “can’t” rather than those that “can.” **

The message is clear – do well, girls, and there is an army waiting to tear you down.

This is what we have to fight, people.

 
 
 

Peggy Orenstein is an award-winning writer, editor and speaker about issues affecting girls and women.
 
** Please note – NEITHER form of bullying is ok. I bring it up because the contrast was interesting to me.
 

Planning a Sweet Sixteen

My daughter will be sixteen in less than two weeks.

Let’s pause for a moment of silence.

We have talked about the big day on and off for weeks, but with the date looming over our heads now – it is decision time. For me, this decision process brings up memories of not-so-great birthdays in the past and how she has triumphed over some very dark times.

So what made the short list for her big day? Here’s her party planning ideas (all options would occur under parent supervision because we are THOSE parents):

  1. Go to San Francisco with friends –This day would involve hitting Pier 39, an art museum, shopping in Union Square and dinner. (SF is about 45 minutes from our house.)
  2. Go to SF and see a band – good possibility with this one, but she’s having trouble finding a show that would be awesome AND allows 16 year olds to attend. Oh, the burden of youth.
  3. Catered party at home with all friends – this is different than the “party at home with all friends” she has had the last couple of years in that the food would come from a restaurant rather than our local pizza place.
  4. Movie night – we might possibly be mildly addicted to Amazon Instant Video.

As I mentioned above, the last couple of years have been about having big parties at home. This was born out of many years of not having friends at all. She was the target of playground bullies – girls that called her names and made a “rule” that anyone who played with Lizzi was a freak. (Yes, I spoke with her teachers during this time. They told me those girls were not mean, cruel monsters because they drew the happy pictures currently taped to the teacher’s desk. That is a rant for another post.)  In 3rd-5th grade, I think she was invited to a total of 2 birthday parties and maybe had 3 after school play dates. In middle school, the loneliness took a turn to the dark side that involved depression and self harm.

It was a very difficult time for all of us.

Birthdays in this period were stressful for her because she couldn’t think of anyone to invite to her party. Of course, there was an option to not have one at all – but that was even more depressing.

We sought help, and found a number of resources that made a huge difference in her life. I will write about those another time, but just know that we have come out the other side stronger than I could have imagined.

In those dark days, I wondered if there would ever be light in her life again. 

But here we are, planning a Sweet Sixteen. She has so many friends now that the thought of inviting them all over for a “blow out” party seems like it might be too much noise and mess. She is leaning toward a fun day with friends that mean the most.

Whatever she decides, her dad and I will be there to celebrate this milestone and savor the smile on her face.

 This post was originally published on WorkingMother.com on November 28, 2011.

Say goodbye to the pink fan

The other day I had a handyman come over and replace the ceiling fan in my daughter’s room. The fan was in good working order, so he was careful with it. He placed it gently in some Styrofoam packing material and it sat in my living room for a day before finding a new home.

We have been planning to replace that fan for months. Over the summer, my girls and I took on a massive redecorating project. I had to pack up my entire home office, including the huge closet of office/craft/sewing/misc stuff and move everything to the living room so the office could be repainted. Once three walls were lavender and one was a dramatically dark blue, my 12 year old could move in and start decorating.

Once her room was empty, it was repainted for my 15 year old daughter, the artsy one. The walls in her new room are deep purple, lime green, bright cerulean blue and … wait for it… black chalkboard.  An entire wall available for friends to graffiti to their teenage hearts’ content, and believe me – that is a lot of graffiti.

With the colorful walls and the ironically black bedding, it was clear that the pink ceiling fan with flowers and butterflies was affecting the overall chi in the room.

So the fan went across the street to the young family with the little girls age 5 and 3. My husband dropped it off and there was quite a squeal from the 5 year old. “Mommy! That for my room?”

Honestly, I had no problem with this entire plan until the fan was gone. Something about watching that little girly-ness leaving forever left me a little sad. It is not like the fact that my girls are growing up was a secret. In fact, the evidence is in every corner of my life: homework that involves medieval politics, the miniature Sephora store in my hall bathroom, the bras of every size and color going through the wash each week…  

But this weekend I just had a feeling that life is shifting into fast forward.

My oldest will be 16 next month. She will not get a driver’s license on her birthday, but she will soon. In April, my “little one” will be 13. She does not have any interest in boys just yet, but she will soon. Instead of the hiding presents from Santa Claus, we have planned a family trip to New York for Christmas break that includes tickets to Wicked and lots of shopping. Last summer we visited a college out of state (my alma mater), this summer we will visit a few more.

I don’t have any regrets about being a working mom. I have been incredibly lucky to work at home for most of the last 10 years. I get a lot of time with my daughters and I am lucky that they think I am pretty ok to hang out with most of the time.  They are interesting people to talk to and I like that we can have deep conversations about life, politics and the economy.

“It’s all good,” I try to remind myself. This is what I have been working towards. But I can’t help it, there are tears in my eyes.

This post was originally published on WorkingMother.com on November 15, 2011.