Dinner Photo Montage

After all that drama, I think we could all use something a bit more lighthearted. So, I present to you, my children over dinner this evening.

(I was totally smitten by Lina's pigtails, which started the whole thing, and it went downhill from there.)




How was your dinner?

UPDATE: What a Best Case Scenario looks like.

Sometimes, people really surprise you, ya know? When my child came home upset over an insensitive lesson taught before Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, I prepared myself for a fight. I asked around for others' perspectives, I gathered lists of resources, and I carbon-copied emails, ready to take it to the superintendent of the school district (or the governor's office, if I didn't get a satisfactory response). I put on my armor, ready to do battle for my child.

Well, I may have been a bit over-prepared.

On Friday, I contacted the school counselor, and she spoke with my child's teacher. Monday was a holiday, and Tuesday was a teacher in-service day (so, no school for kids). I sent the teacher an email that day, with a resource list (I'll tack that on to the end of this post, for your reading pleasure.) The principal of the school called me directly - the teacher had already come to speak to him. His question was, "What can I do to help?" The teacher called me, and left a voicemail with four possible times in the next two days when she would be available for a conference.

The principal forwarded my resource list in a very diplomatically worded email to the entire staff of the school, for other teachers to be able to access. My husband and I scheduled a conference on a morning we could both attend, feeling slightly less prickly after all the positive messages we'd already received.

The teacher sat at the table with us, visibly upset. She told us she'd been positively sick all weekend, knowing that she had hurt my child the way she had. She told us that initially, she felt defensive of her lesson (as I think anyone would, in her position), but after thinking about it all weekend, she realized that she was, in fact, mistaken.  In her mind, the dark-haired/light-haired groups were random (yes, this school is predominantly white) - she hadn't thought about how that might have grouped children in ways that would leave some of them feeling truly marginalized. She asked us for advice as to what to do next. She listened. She changed her lesson plans.

She had always prided herself on being progressive, inclusive, and tolerant. Combating prejudice and promoting empathy are part of her mission as an educator. She is a good person, and a good teacher. And she made a mistake. She made no excuses - she owned it. She apologized.

It doesn't erase the mistake, but it does make me feel more optimistic about the future. She will be an ideal voice for change around her, because I think she now sees how we can all be blinded by privilege, especially when we spend most of our time surrounded by people who look, think, and live like we do. My child got a chance to feel heard, and to see a change in the world around him because of it. His friend had a chance to take a stand for what he believed in - something that his mother tells me has been a pivotal moment in his young life.

I told my child about this meeting, and how impressed I was with his teacher, and with his courage to stand up for himself. When I told him that night, "You can change the world," he smiled. And he believed me.

If you're interested in that resource list, here it is. 

http://www.npr.org/2012/01/16/145309336/teachers-discuss-how-they-approach-mlk-day (Teachers from a variety of backgrounds discuss their lesson plans)

http://www.educationworld.com/a_lesson/lesson248.shtml (alternative lesson plans for MLK Day)

http://loveisntenough.com/ (A website for race conscious parenting)

http://news.yahoo.com/martin-luther-king-jr-american-life-different-without-185640690.html

http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/divided/ (A Frontline show on the original experiment, dividing classes by eye color to demonstrate segregation)

http://colorlines.com/archives/2012/01/resolved_to_make_change_this_mlk_day_heres_a_guide_to_doing_it_all_year.html (How to Be an Activist All Year Long)

http://abcnews.go.com/2020/video?id=2452826 (ABC's 20/20 feature on Stereotypes in America)

How Not to Teach about Martin Luther King, Jr.

There's this lesson that some teachers like to teach this time of year to help kids understand the deep and pervasive effects of segregation and discrimination in the Jim Crow South. Here's how it works: you divide your class of little people into seemingly random groups, and one group gets to be the "privileged" group, and the other gets to be the underclass, without choices or privileges. The intended result is that all children walk away with a better sense of what segregation meant, and how wrong it was.

First let me make this point. Teachers, STOP USING THIS LESSON PLAN. Just stop. No excuses, no justifications - just stop. Never teach it again. The end.

Children have a great capacity to understand compassion, courage, generosity, mercy, and justice. Elementary school children do not have the developmental capacity to take on a position of power or disempowerment, and then transfer that lesson to an understanding of how it hard it was to live as a minority in Mississippi in the first part of the 20th century. They are just barely beginning to understand the concept of fair and unfair in the small context of their own lives - they do not have the life experience to transfer the feeling of being unfairly discriminated against to one of the most important social movements of the last century. I've read about this social experiment from the point of view of many adult people of color, including adoptees, and their experience was largely one of being singled-out, confused, belittled, and humiliated. For many of them, Martin Luther King, Jr. Day came to be the day they were blatantly reminded them that they were different from, and often less than, their peers.

On Friday, my child came home broken-hearted, shoulders slumped over, usual run was slowed to a walk. The teacher, who has otherwise been a great help this year, had divided their class up and put all the "dark-haired kids" in one group (conveniently including all of the minority children), and this group had to sit at their desks and "do nothing" during reading time, and the blonde-haired kids got to move around the room and do whatever they wanted.

The lesson was lost. My child teared up, telling me how the teacher smirked and said, "I bet you guys feel really bad right now," and how the Lakota girl in the class cried and cried.

I think I get where the teacher was coming from, although it smacks of unexamined privilege. She was trying to get the kids to understand why the Civil Rights Movement needed to happen, and what it might feel like to be on the side of the Freedom Riders. The problem is that she singled out all the kids who ALREADY know what that feels like because it reflects their current reality, and the unintended message that was once again reinforced for the entire class was that it is, indeed, better to be blond and white, instead of dark-haired and brown.

I am waiting to hear back from the teacher before I decide whether or not this issue needs to be taken higher up in the school and the district. I'm also looking for alternative curriculum materials, so I can come to the table with something other than fightin' words (I've got plenty of those, too.) I'm hoping for a good resolution in the end, and a better experience for future classes.

I am also hoping that taking my concerns to a public forum does not blow up in my face. That said, the fact that I have heard of this exact scenario happening over, and over, and over again makes me think that being silent is not the best course of action. As a parent with a professional background in education and child development, I believe that classrooms should be safe places for children to learn, explore, and express themselves, where all children feel valued and heard. This exercise flies in the face of that core belief.

I sat down with my child, and we listened to the entire seventeen minutes of Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech. My child wisely said to me, "Martin Luther King would not have like that lesson." My child understood that his real message was one of equality, love, justice, fairness - not about subjecting another generation of children to the experience of exclusion and injustice. So did my child's (fair-haired, white) best friend, who quietly refused to participate in the activity, as a sign of solidarity, and then stood in front of the whole class and expressed his own discomfort with the unfairness of it all.

As the great man said himself, "We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their self-hood and robbed of their dignity."

If you haven't watched the whole speech in awhile, I encourage you to honor one of the greatest leaders of our modern time by sitting down with your family, and doing that. Reflect on the fact that, while we certainly have come quite a long way since 1963, we still have so very far to go.

Ski bums.

As I mentioned before, we celebrated Christmas with a variety of winter sports out in the Rockies. Santa brought Danny some cross-country skis, so we hit the trails on Christmas afternoon to try them out. R and I used to cross-country ski quite a lot back in our pre-kid days - it was practically free, which fit well in our budget. Now that we have to pay a babysitter the equivalent of a lift ticket for a day of skiing, it's not quite as cost effective, but we're hoping to get back to it one of these days.

Our first outing was pretty successful, all things considered.

Shuffle, shuffle, little buddy.

Easy does it!

And yes, that's Miss Lina in snow shoes! This was the first year that everyone is old enough to operate snow shoes without stepping on their own feet - I think there are some good times in our future with those. (Of course, Mother Nature is a hilarious gal - last winter, while my cold-loving husband was sweltering in the desert, we had weeks on end of unbelievably frigid temperatures. This year, he's home and itching to get out in the snow, and it's been in the seventies. Un-freaking-believable. Very funny, lady.)

Of course, it wasn't without a few mishaps.

My father-in-law felt pretty bad about accidentally capturing this inglorious moment. Because I am a sensitive and very caring mother, I thought it was pretty hilarious. No child was (seriously) injured in the making of this photograph.

Because one kind of skiing is definitely NOT enough when one is in the vicinity of places like Vail and Breckenridge, we also fit in a day of downhill skiing. It was a first for the kids, a second for me. R put us all in a morning of ski school so he could get some actual speed in (I am the biggest downhill chicken of all time - it's kind of embarrassing.) Ski school was a good idea - I wasn't a total wuss, and the kids were AWESOME.

I may never be much of a skier, but I'd pay for a lift ticket just to watch this again - holy cow. Watching these little guys ski may be the cutest thing ever.




That's Danny coming down first, asking to continue down the hill without a grown-up (sorry kiddo, maybe next time), and Rome heading down second - he DID stop right after the video ended - no crashes. Thanks, Opa, for taking the video! Lina was just as brave - just less prone to being in a good spot for the camera. Her favorite trick was to ski directly at me, and stop six inches from my skis, once she could see the whites of my eyes. Good times, good times.

Rock on, little dudes!

Of course, there was Christmas.

We had a good one, too! We drove over the continental divide (proving that this flat-lander does not tolerate 10,000 ft. all that well - holy altitude, Batman), and joined R's sister in Glenwood Springs, near Vail, Colorado. What a lovely little town, way up in the Rockies! We enjoyed ideal travel weather, and much warmer than average temperatures, making dog walking along the river right outside their house a real joy. We managed to squeeze in two kinds of skiing, plus an afternoon in the thermal springs. (Watching my boys jump off an outdoor diving board in 30 F weather - totally giggle inducing. Apparently freezing increases courage!)

Santa managed to find us, even way up in the mountains.

Those are cross-country skis for Danny - boy, was he excited (he was only slightly less enthusiastic after we put them on him - it's not quite as easy as he thought it would be!)

Santa knows what a budding rock star we have on our hands, and brought Rome the guitar he's been begging for.

And he must have had a family band in mind, because Lina got a karaoke machine.

Of course, there were plenty of other exciting things under the tree - some of which we are still sorting through, even after the tree is down at our house. Generosity abounded - thanks to all who contributed!

There was plenty of other fun to be had, too. My sister-in-law and her husband are lovely hosts, and they know the way to a Southern girl's heart - lots of good cooking (and even better eating!). Thanks, y'all, for the most excellent eats (and also for the general goodwill and tolerance of children in the kitchen - no small feat).

Never a dull moment - it's a well known fact that children will entertain themselves, even without toys. Hence, this picture - no, it's not an illusion, and yes, it was his idea. My giraffe of a son (he's over 4 feet tall, but by how much, I'm not sure) fit himself into a suitcase that I could put in the overhead bin of an aircraft.

Much hilarity ensued, and we eventually had to MAKE him get out (and hide the suitcase from him, to prevent him or his siblings from zipping him inside it and throwing him down a flight of stairs.) I'd consider taking him as a carry-on on my next flight, but I'm not sure the x-rays at security are particularly good for a growing boy.

Hope your holiday was just as warm, merry, and full of happy weirdness!

Hope and the New Year.

Here we are, the last day of 2011. Y'all, this has been a hard year. For me, personally, for our family, and for many of you also. My energy, my faith, my heart, and at times, my very soul, have been stretched so far I thought they'd break. I have learned that there are hardships that you just can't imagine until you're faced with them, and it has taken all the grace I can muster, and some I've had to fake, to keep on walking.

But you know what? We're all still here, more or less upright, even if this brute of a year got one last jab in by putting my mom in the hospital in Virginia with cellulitis to celebrate the arrival of 2012. Thanks, buddy. Don't let the door hit you in the backside on your way out.

We'll be celebrating by eating crockpot chili and staying home. I am totally okay with that. In the midst of some very dark days, we've had some really amazing miracles appear out of the ethers, and I've found myself a circle of friends that have wrapped themselves around me like a blanket during the hard times. I have stumbled, and been caught by love and compassion, sometimes in the most unexpected places, at every turn.

So here's to the end of the longest year I can remember, and a fresh start in 2012. If it's not the end of the world, I do believe it has to be a better year. I heard a wonderful poem by Wendell Berry on this program last week about hope in the face of hardship, I'm paraphrasing, but the gist is this: Against all odds, hope sets off on its' desperate search for reason."

Here we go, y'all. Hope beyond reason - the last, great good in the human soul. I wish you all a peaceful and safe New Year, wrapped in the knowledge that you are where you are meant to be, and surrounded by the all the love to which you are entitled.

In the Kitchen: Thai-Style Chicken Soup (Tom Kha Gai)

Since I'm playing fast and loose with this blog these days, and making no promises about when things will get published, what was formerly known as "Mondays in the Kitchen" will now be called simply, "In the Kitchen." That way, it will be less confusing when I post recipes on Wednesdays, right?

This is how I remember tom kha gai looking.
Also, imagine the sound of angels singing.

Now that we've got the format change out of the way, let me tell you about this soup. I first had Tom Kha Gai in San Francisco when I was seventeen, right after I graduated from high school. It was my first exposure to Thai food of any kind, and we've had a wild love affair ever since. That said, good Thai food is hard to find, and having my first experience with this AMAZING genre of cuisine in one of the foodie capitals of the world may not have been all that fair to my gastronomical sensibilities. It's a lot to live up to, ya know?

I have rarely attempted Thai food in my own kitchen. The first reason is because it's spicy, and one child of mine (guess which one...) is profoundly adverse to any heat whatsoever in his food. This is the one accommodation I make in my kitchen for children - I get it. Not everybody can take the heat. He may grow into or out of it. For the time being, we run mild here at home.

The second reason is that I am loathe to make mediocre food, especially from a cuisine with which I am not terribly familiar. Lack of authenticity also worries me. I am insecure when it comes to cooking food other people do well, without a proper lesson.

I still have not had a proper lesson, but I do have Cook's Illustrated "The Best International Recipe" Cookbook, and it has not let me down. It has wonderful descriptions of global cuisines, and adaptations for the American chef, who might not have access to ingredients like kaffir lime leaves and galangal. You should be able to find these ingredients in most places - in any well-stocked grocery store, or a basic Asian foods store. This recipe comes together so easily and quickly (under 30 minutes) that it has been one I sometimes throw together on the odd occasion my husband and I are dining alone. It is delicious, and simple, and tastes as good as I remember from my first time. Do try it. Baby, it's cold outside, and this will warm you right up, and still leave time for wrapping those last minute gifts.

Thai-Style Chicken Soup (Tom Kha Gai)
adapted from Cook's Illustrated: The Best International Recipe

Cast of characters. Pretty basic.

1 tsp vegetable oil
3 stalks lemon grass, bottom 5 inches only, tough outer layer removed, trimmed and sliced thin (do not use dried)
3 large shallots, chopped coarse
8 sprigs fresh cilantro, chopped coarse
3 TBS fish sauce
4 cups low-sodium chicken broth
2 (14-oz) cans coconut milk
1 TBS sugar
1/2 pound white mushrooms, wiped clean and sliced 1/4 inch thick
1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breast, halved lengthwise and sliced on the bias, 1/8 in thick
3 TBS juice from 2 limes
2 teaspoons Thai red curry paste (or more, for a spicier soup)

GARNISH: (do not omit)
1/2 cup loosely packed fresh cilantro leaves
2 fresh Thai, serrano, or jalapeno chiles, seeds and ribs removed, sliced thin
2 scallions, sliced thin on the bias
1 lime, cut into wedges

Heat the oil in a large saucepan over medium heat until just shimmering. Add the lemon grass, shallots, chopped cilantro sprigs, and 1 TBS of the fish sauce. Cook, stirring frequently, until just softened but not browned - 2 to 5 minutes.

Stir in the chicken broth and 1 can of the coconut milk and bring to a simmer over high heat. Cover, reduce the heat to low, and simmer until flavors have blended - about 10 minutes. Pour the broth through a fine-mesh strainer, discarding the solids left in the strainer. (At this point, the soup can be refrigerated for up to 1 day).

Return strained soup to a clean saucepan and bring to a simmer over medium-high heat. Stir in the remaining can of coconut milk and the sugar and bring to a simmer. Reduce the heat to medium, add the mushrooms and cook until just tender, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the chicken and cook, stirring constantly, until no longer pink, 1 to 3 minutes. Remove soup from the heat.

Whisk together the lime juice, curry paste, and remaining 2 TBS fish sauce, then stir into the soup. Ladle soup into individual bowls and garnish with cilantro leaves, chiles, and scallions. Serve with the lime wedges.