Under Pressure

I have a dilemma.  Olivia wants to start reading the Twilight series and see the movies and thus far, I haven’t allowed it because at only 10 years old, I don’t think the series is age-appropriate for my girl. 

I’m an avid reader and Olivia is also becoming an avid reader and that makes me ecstatic.  On one hand, I’m happy she’s interested in reading the books, but on the other hand, I have to mediate her choices. 

Last year, I spoke with Olivia’s English teacher about the Twilight books and she mentioned she had banned the books from the lower school.  She explained that a lot of the 4^th grade girls were reading the book and seemed to be obsessed with the books.  She also said that she didn’t think 8-10 year olds should be reading the books.  My reasoning for banning the books last year was bolstered by this teacher’s input and seemed to placate my dear girl for a bit, but with the media blitz surrounding the release of New Moon and all of her friends cackling about the book and the movie, she’s now doubled her efforts in getting my permission to read the books and see the movies.   Sure, I know I’m the parent and what I say goes, but my “It’s not age-appropriate” mantra is wearing thin.

I reached out to the same English teacher a few weeks ago and explaining the pressure I’m under, I asked if she thinks Olivia’s ready for the books. She offered a solution that absolutely won’t work for me… she suggested that although she still thinks the series isn’t age-appropriate for Miss Olivia, that maybe Olivia and I could read the series with Olivia and by doing this, I could mediate how Olivia processes the story and the subtext of non-sexual sexual tension between the two main characters.

O.K., as much as I’d like to think I’m that kind of mom, willing to sacrifice my beloved reading time to bond with my beloved girl over the tales of the Twilight saga, I don’t think it’s going to happen.  I’m way too selective about what I read and I’ve never been into vampires.

Fortunately, another teacher from the kids’ school recently posted her favorite books for African American middle school students on Facebook.  Thanks Tr. Ericka… this list is right on time!

My Top 10 African American Books for Older Readers

Here are my favorites for older kids (5th-8th Grade) I have read these books, or used them in lessons when I instructed a Civics Class and Enrichment Classes for 5th-8th Grade. I think that this list may be a mix of Fiction and Nonfiction, I really liked some in each category.

1. Eyes on the Prize-Juan Williams and Julian Bond-NONFICTION

This book literally changed my life. My grandfather gave this book to me when I was in the 8th grade, and I read it until the book practically fell apart. IT'S A SERIOUS BOOK, so it's not light reading, BUT it's got amazing detail and black and white imagery that you won't ever forget. SOME GRAPHIC PHOTOGRAPHY.

2. Freedom Riders-Ann Bausum-NONFICTION

The Freedom Riders remain some of the most heroic and fearless individuals to ever be forgotten about by American History. This book discusses the Freedom Rides that took place all over the country, to test the enforcement of the Civil Rights Act, in detail. SOME GRAPHIC PHOTOGRAPHY.

3.Miracle's Boys-Jacqueline Woodson-FICTION

I think that Jacqueline Woodson might have her finger on the pulse of the African American Urban Adolescent. Miracle's Boys is a book about loss, forgiveness, redemption and the family bond that endures. Three boys deal with the harsh realities of life in NYC, they must learn to depend, and forgive each other, and themselves.

4. Locomotion-Jacqueline Woodson-FICTION

This book is written in journal form, a POWERFUL tool for a middle school student to understand and utilize. Lonnie uses writing to come to terms with what is happening to him and his sister.

5. Bird-Angela Johnson-FICTION

An interesting book about a young girl and how she follows her stepfather, convinced she can make him return home.

6. Brown Angels-Walter Dean Myers-POETRY/PHOTOGRAPHY

You read right-Walter Dean Myers! I love this book-it is definitely angled toward the girls, but it's filled with beautiful and diverse images of young girls and boys. The poems are endearing and the photography shows all the beautiful shades of black and brown.

7. Monster-Walter Dean Myers-FICTION

This book has SERIOUS CONTENT and may be too much for anyone younger than 7th grade. It's a novel written in mixed media, some of it as a journal, others in the form of a movie screenplay-as a youth that is charged withand incarcerated for a serious crime, tries to come to terms with reality, and the consequences that can result from one bad decision.

8. Love that Dog-Sharon Creech-FICTION

A boy that hates poetry learns to use it as a tool of expression, and a tool for helping him deal with a traumatic event that he finds difficult to remember.

9. Change Has Come: An Artist Celebrates Our American Spirit (Speech by Pres. Barack Obama, Illustrated by Kadir Nelson)-Poetry

Kadir Nelson's personal reflections on the amazing and historical words of Barack Obama through artistic expression. Beautiful, reflective and empowering.

10. Witness-Karen Hesse-FICTION

This book is exceptional as it uses perspective to examine what happens to a small town in the 1920's when the Klu Klux Klan arrives.

*As a resource for your young historian who asks you questions you can't answer...

A Young People's History of the United States-Howard Zinn

A true and factual handbook for any truth seeking young history buff!

THERE are many, many more-but these are the tried and true that I have read, and would purchase for any of my friends children, as well as my students. Again, they are generally for middle school. As the content begins to mature, you have to be careful what you expose the "tweens" in your life to, let them be young as long as they can....I'll keep you posted on anything else that I come across.

Extending the Vibe

I did just as I’d intended this weekend… I took it easy… or at least easier than I usually do, and guess what?  No headaches!  In fact, I had a really wonderful weekend and I feel more like my adult self than I have in months.

Yesterday, I got up bright and early and checked out the Barkley Hendricks’ symposium, The Evolution of the Cool at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts (PAFA).  Hendricks’s The Birth of the Cool will be on exhibit through to Jan. 3, 2010.  I recently became familiar with Hendricks’ work and it’s incredible.  He mainly does portraiture, with bold colors and subjects exuding a.t.t.i.t.u.d.e.  He’s also a native Philadelphian and a PAFA alumnus.

The portion of the symposium I attended featured Hendricks, jazz musician Randy Weston and dance scholar, Brenda Dixon Gottschild. I spent two hours on the edge of my seat listening and absorbing.

This morning I made it to my floor barre class and spent an hour on my back while the instructor, Miss Rhonda Moore, worked the class of both professional dancers and non-dancers to the bone.  This class is no joke.  It’s intense, difficult and I feel so accomplished at the end of the hour.

After today’s class, I checked out Precious with Loverman and my girl. Lori.  Yes, it’s a difficult movie, but I do think my expectations were a bit tempered by everything I’ve heard from folks who saw the movie last weekend.  Lee Daniels did a great job with the casting.  Precious, played by Gabourey Sidibe, is fabulous and Mariah Carey, Lenny Kravitz and even the too brief appearances of Sherrie Shepherd are also incredible. I’ve never been a huge fan of Mo’Nique, and I’m not too sure this role was a real stretch for her, but she is really scary in this flick.

I’ve already had a few heated discussions with both Loverman and my mom regarding the tone of the film, but the three of us agree that the fat, black, illiterate is an overworked character type in American film. Why is it that when White depravity is portrayed on film it’s ensconced in suburban accoutrements, but Black depravity is showcased in grease-laden fatback and urban filth? Overall, I enjoyed the film, but just once, it would be nice to have a Black story heralded that isn’t coming from such a dark, suffocating place.

Well, tomorrow’s it back to work, but fortunately, it’s a short holiday week and Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.  Hopefully, I’ll be able to extend my newly acquired cool vibe through to next weekend too!

Seeking Relief

I’ve been on the DL most of this week.  I’ve been battling a debilitating headache since Monday.  For the past few evenings, I’ve made my way to the bed as soon as possible and prayed for sleep to come quickly. I got absolutely no relief from Tylenol, a warm lavender bath or a cup of chamomile tea.  In fact, I envisioned the beastly headache laughing at my pitiful attempts to tame it.

When I got up yesterday morning, I felt as if I’d been in a battle most of the night trying to beat down the throbbing on the right side of my head.  The headache wasn’t as intense, but felt as if it was laying in wait to pounce as soon as I let my guard down.  I needed to find some relief because I couldn’t imagine suffering a fourth day in such discomfort.  I called my chiropractor, Barry’s, office hoping he could see me right away.  No such luck… the receptionist explained Barry doesn’t have Thursday office hours, but she could get me in to see him first thing Friday morning.  Not good enough… I desperately explained that I needed to see someone NOW or I was headed to the emergency room. 

Mercifully, Amy, the receptionist heard the urgency in my voice and asked if I’d ever had acupuncture and if not, would I be interested in trying it out.  Without hesitation, I said, “Sure!” and assured her that I could get to the office in the next ten minutes.  At this point, I was open to anything and sticking some pins in my head, neck, shoulder, whatever, couldn’t be any worse than what I’d been dealing with over the last couple of days.

After completing some paperwork, I limped into the examination room, explained what was going on and when Dr. Freedman proceeded to rub where I indicated the area at the base of my skull from which the pain was emanating, tears streamed down my face. The muscles along my right shoulder and shoulder blade were sore to the touch.  The diagnosis included constricted neck tendons and neck muscles. The doctor bought out some contraption that vibrated along the affected area, after which he did a bit of cranial manipulation, and finally he asked if I was up for some acupuncture. Again, without thinking twice, I said, “Yes.”   Dr. Freedman explained that it would be nothing like I’ve seen on T.V.  It wouldn’t be gentle and would probably make me feel a little worse before I felt better.  After this warning, I was still up for it and took a deep breath as he stuck the first pin in my shoulder blade.  It felt as if the tip of the pin penetrated the nucleus of my pain.  Once the pin was positioned properly, he tapped it gently. The pain was almost paralyzing and yet it also provided relief because it was tangible and affirmed the severe discomfort I’d felt for days.  The doctor repeated this process along my neck and shoulder.  It took less than 10 minutes, and once he finished I did feel significantly better. 

Dr. Freedman urged me to schedule a follow-up with my chiropractor within the next 48 hours.  He also explained that my muscles and tendons are in bad shape and my current state has been a long time in the making.  It didn’t happen overnight.  He asked if I had any idea of what may have triggered the lemon-sized knot on the right side of my back.  I honestly can’t think of anything, but who knows… our bodies internalize stress that we’re not even aware of. 

By the time I got home yesterday, I could feel the pesky headache about to make its nightly appearance, but when it did, it didn’t seem as fierce as it had been prior to the acupuncture.  I was able to actually help Yannick with his homework and I even stayed awake long enough to check out Grey’s Anatomy. 

This morning I felt a bit refreshed, but looked forward to my 9:30am chiropractor’s appointment.  My chiropractor reviewed the notes from my visit with the doctor yesterday and after his initial examination, he concurred. Lying on his examination table, I endured another cranial manipulation, deep tissue message, heat pack, neck and back adjustments.  By the time I left his office, I felt like new money.  Barry’s magic manipulation beat my once-unbearable pain into total submission and I feel like myself for the first time in almost a week.  Hallelujah!

I’ve promised myself that I’ll be taking it easy this weekend and I’ll be right back on Barry’s table first thing Monday morning ready for whatever suggests to keep me straight and headache free. I think I also need to give some thought as to what emotional adjustments I need to make when it comes to managing my stress. 

Is It a Party?

What are the base requirements for an 8 yr. old boys’ birthday party? 

I ask, because of what transpired last Sunday when I asked Lovermn to take Yannick to his buddy, Tommy’s (not his real name), birthday party.  We received the invitation on Thursday for Sunday’s party.  Sure, I know everybody’s busy as all get out, but jeez! I need more than 48 hours notice!  Anyway, I promised Yannick we’d do our best to make Tommy’s party while I said a silent prayer of thanks because at least it was on Sunday when Loverman would be available to take him instead of me.

Sunday arrived and I sent my two guys off to the party with a $25 gift card to Game Stop and assured Loverman that Tommy’s father was a man’s man and would surely have a few beers for the daddies attending the 3-hour party.

When Loverman and Yannick returned, I could tell Loverman had a bit of an attitude. Yannick didn’t have much to say about the festivities either.  I gave Loverman some time to decompress before I asked him for details about the party and boy did it sound lame—O!  In short…

1. 10-12 seven and eight year old boys
2. no planned activities
3. pizza, soda, birthday cake
4. other than Tommy’s dad, Loverman was the only other daddy on the scene

Fortunately, the weather was unseasonably warm and the boys could play outside in the courtyard of the dad’s apartment.  The boys played tag football, raced back and forth and finally resorted to throwing ice cubes at each other before Loverman decided to call it a day and head home. 

Sure, I’m all for male bonding and fellowship, but I also think it’s important for parents to put forth a little effort.  Tommy’s dad basically invited a bunch of boys over for a play date and if Loverman hadn’t hung around, the birthday boy’s daddy would have seriously been outnumbered.

But maybe, Tommy’s dad simply did the best he could and like Loverman said, Tommy seemed to enjoy having all of his little friends together. I just know it’s going to like pulling teeth to get Loverman to pony up for another kids’ party anytime soon.

An Upside of Tweendom

At 10 ½, Olivia is moving full-steam ahead into tweendom and yes, I often find myself taken aback when I or her brother or Loverman find ourselves face-to-face with one of her seemingly unprovoked funk-isms.   Sure, I understand she’s maturing, growing, changing, but like my grandmother used to say… “Miss Thing is really smelling herself these days!”

One unexpected upside of this new and not-so improved Miss Olivia is her desire to earn some extra cash.  I’m not one to pay for things she should naturally be doing around the house, but I have agreed to pay her weekly for doing the dinner dishes. Yannick, not wanting to be left out, sweeps the kitchen floor when Olivia finishes and for a few brief moments, all is good in the world.

All I can say is... WOWZA! This little perk of growing up and wanting more responsibility has freed up my evenings and allows me to retire to my boudoir with a nice glass of wine in peace.

A Need to Wean

We take homework very seriously in this household--- come in the house after school, grab a snack and get down to the business of homework before any other activities commence.  This has been the Mango Tribe’s m.o. since Olivia started kindergarten six years ago. 

At first, I’d sit with Olivia and make sure she was following directions, completing the assignments neatly and had comprehensive understanding of the concepts being presented. It offered me and Loverman an opportunity to keep abreast of what she was learning in class. Olivia excels in school and now rarely needs the assistance of either Loverman or me in completing her homework.  When Yannick started kindergarten three years ago, he fell lockstep into our established homework rhythm. But, unlike Olivia, he hasn’t weaned himself off of needing my full attention in finishing his homework.  Olivia seemed the make a seamless transition from needing our help, to wanting to prove that she could do it well, all by herself.  Yannick on the other hand, acts as if beyond writing his name on his homework sheet, he cannot do one single thing unless I’m sitting right next to him and his little co-dependency act is getting on my nerves, because I’m confident brother-man can competently do his homework without mommy’s handholding and cheerleading. 

Now, if I mentioned this issue to Yannick’s teacher, she would encourage me to simply walk away from him and let him sink or swim, because their school’s always telling parents that the kids should be doing their homework with very little parental involvement.  But, I believe both Olivia and Yannick’s success in school to date has a lot to do with the expectations and support we provide as parents.  There is absolutely no way in hell I’d let Yannick turn in homework Loverman or I hadn’t reviewed. He’s 7 and his goal is to just get it done, whereas Loverman and I want it to be done well.  

Yannick’s daily demand that I sit with him during his homework ordeal is wearing me out.  When I ask (or sometimes bark) that he must do as much as he can before I’ll sit with him, he resorts to whining and that really works my nerves. It’s starting to become a battle and Lord knows, that’s not the vibe we want to set, because he has years of homework ahead.

Keeping It Virtual

I received via Facebook, an invitation to the 30^th anniversary celebration of my 8^th grade reunion from St. Louis Elementary School in November.  Since reconnecting with some of my classmates from my elementary and high school on FB, I’ve sincerely enjoyed our virtual game of playing “catch-up,” with little interest in extending our exchanges into the “real” world and before FB, I hadn’t been in touch with these folks since high school.  In a weird way, it’s as if my social life, and being comfortable in my own skin did not begin until I step foot onto Hampton’s campus.

To say I had a difficult time at St. Louis and later in high school at Archbishop Prendergast would be an understatement. I’ve detailed some of the indignities in earlier posts, and before the happy homecoming on Facebook, I’d thought I’d put most of it behind me, but it’s become obvious that I have not. 

I’ve been pondering my issues with my classmates from elementary and high school for months and on one hand, I think I’ve been holding onto my childhood hurts a little too much, but on the other hand, I’m astounded that by the looks of their Facebook pages, I’m still the only person of color they know.  How can that be?  By now, I know that living a diverse and inclusive life does not happen by happenstance.  You've got to cultivate and seek new experiences and new people. I know it’s not fair for me to pass judgment simply by what’s posted on their FB pages, and maybe if I accept the invitation and check out the reunion, I’d learn that now as we have gotten older, we have more things in common than we did during our time at St. Louis.  Maybe I wouldn’t mind, again, being the only Black person in the room.  Maybe I should let go of my little fantasy where a few of my old classmates take the time to acknowledge how crappy it must have been for me and apologize for any past offenses.  Maybe I should stop projecting my idea of an ideal world onto them and simply be grateful to celebrate the fact that we’re still here and able to watch our children grow and thrive.

I just don’t think I can and I know this says a lot more about me than it does about them, because I’m sure they haven’t obsessed over 30 year old grievances they way I have recently.