Posts Tagged ‘childhood’

The Freedom to Choose Poorly

Saturday, February 13th, 2010

It was always a dangerous question: “Would you like some broccoli?”

Dangerous, because it wasn’t really a question.  If I said “no,” I would incur a Look until such time as I meekly helped myself to a moderate amount and polished it off without complaint.

Believe me, I think parents have the right to do this, and I think they should do it.  I have little sympathy for the mother who complains that her children won’t eat anything but macaroni and hot dogs; few children would behave differently, given the choice.  I think my appreciation of healthy and diverse foods stems from this strictly-imposed rule growing up.

But where should we draw the line?  If that mother’s behavior is ridiculous, it is equally ridiculous for the government to ban products it deems sufficiently unhealthy, like hydrogenated oils or cigarettes.  Clearly, adults are granted the freedom to choose poorly.  Call it one of the perks of adulthood.

I remember when our school made the switch from junk food to health food.  I went to a private school where there was no hot lunch; we ordered out several times a week for pizza and Chick-Fil-A, but the other days we had to bring our own lunches, supplemented sometimes (or all the time) by the offerings on the table outside the cafeteria.  Doritos, M&Ms, and Coke ruled the afternoons.

When we had a schoolwide Health Day, the cafeteria switched to selling yogurt, granola bars and juice.  Surprise!  They found that when they have no other choice, kids will eat more healthy foods.  Shortly thereafter, they made a permanent switch.  There was grumbling, but the kids who had to have junk food just brought their own from home.  The rest of us enjoyed crackers instead of chips, fruit instead of candy and Spritzers instead of sodas.  It wasn’t a big deal.

The question, as always, has to do with degrees. This recent article from the Times hints at it, wondering about how far schools and parents should go to keep their children from eating junk.  What about fundraisers that sell candy bars and lollipops between classes to support the endless stream of new uniforms and sports equipment?  Bake sales that raise money for charities?  Should we draw a line between yogurt and ice cream, or apple juice and soda, when they boast an equal number of empty calories?  And should we give seventeen-year-olds the benefit of the doubt, or treat them just like seven-year-olds?  Once you begin to legislate lifestyle choices, it becomes awfully difficult to pin down where and how the rules should apply.

A Moment of Zen

Thursday, February 4th, 2010

The epic-battle girl stared as I shuffled through my repertoire cards, choosing the ones she can play by heart.  Her eyes widened:  “I know a LOT of pieces!”

And then, thoughtfully, looking at the discard pile: “And I don’t know a lot of pieces, too.”

Welcome to the world, kid.

Score One for Efficiency

Sunday, January 31st, 2010

Picture the middle of the day at a typical elementary school: you get an hour to eat lunch and play.  What do you think kids are going to do?

Eat lunch in five minutes and dash outside?  Check.

Skip lunch altogether and feel sick later?  Check.

Run around on a full stomach and get sick immediately?  Check.

Throw away some or all of the food their parents bought and packed for them?  Check.

Come back to class after recess full of wiggles and energy, and needing a drink of water?  CHECK.

How could this situation possibly be remedied? Well, duh.  As the saying goes, “Life is uncertain; give recess first!”

In the test schools that adopted this practice, kids were overjoyed to be able to burn off their energy straight from class, then “cool down” over a lunch that was more leisurely without the dangling carrots of kickball and the monkey bars.  They paid better attention in class afterward, with fuller bellies and calmer nerves.  Afternoon nurse visits decreased by 40%.

Logic.  Works every time!

Kids Can Be So Cruel

Saturday, January 30th, 2010

(We can?  Thanks, Mom!)

We had dinner a few nights ago with some dear friends, and somehow or other we started talking about high school experiences.  Of the four of us, two had gone to tiny Christan schools and two to large public schools.  Among other differences (Prom vs. Banquet Without Dancing) we discovered that the two of us who had been in a Christian school saw very little evidence of bullying.  The two from public schools saw a lot.  One, my husband, described his journey through high school as largely uneventful, due to his ability to stay under the radar — he was neither popular enough to attract attention, nor unpopular enough to be picked on.   The other, who has always been both well-read and shy, happened to use a slightly unusual word in a conversation with her next-door neighbor; the other girl thought it was the funniest thing in the world and trained her group of cronies to hiss the word at my friend every time she walked by.  Years later, her tormentor invited her to a reunion event, probably having forgotten completely about how much misery she had caused.

If you don’t watch the Mentalist [you're missing out!] this recent episode has a very similar situation: a group of jock-ish guys continue their teasing of a smaller classmate twenty years after graduation. Clearly, they see nothing wrong with what they’re doing until the victim lashes out in anger.  Likewise, maybe in this girl’s mind she was “just kidding around.”  But oh, what a horrible thing to have to endure.  I can only thank God I have never been harassed like that, and I hope I’ve never done anything similar to a classmate.  I certainly don’t think I did; I was blessed with plenty of self-confidence and few, if any, enemies.  It’s probably more likely that I watched others do it, giving assent by inaction — making me just as culpable, and maybe even more dangerous.  Oh, the horrors of adolescence.  Where do we learn to treat other human beings this way?!

The good news, I suppose, is that there’s always the opportunity for healing. Rod Dreher wrote about it last Lent, from the perspective of someone who’d done a wrong, wanted to apologize, and did so through Facebook (okay, I guess the brainsucking vortex has a few merits.)  And judging from this classic clip, it’s never too late to put a wrong right:

(Apologies for the dork who thought he could outdo Steve Buscemi’s original role.)

Dislike

Friday, January 29th, 2010

One of the saddest things about the Internet is the fact that it’s fostered an age of instantaneous opinions.  Remember Am I Hot Or Not (which is now a dating / social networking site)?  My friends and I spent hours there, laughing our heads off; it’s ingeniously set up so that you can’t see more funny photos without making a judgment about the one in front of you.  Facebook’s “like” feature is similarly shallow, but requires even less effort; there’s only “Like” (no “Dislike” except in the passive sense, constituted by a lack of reponse.)

What does this do to people, over time?  We’ll probably never know, of course; our lives are sufficiently complex that it’s impossible to isolate one specific feature.  But yesterday, I started thinking about it when I got into a disagreement with a student about the article she wants to write for the school paper.  She had the brilliant idea of a food issue, in which all the writers would share recipes and review restaurants and food-themed movies and TV shows.  Everyone was on board, chattering excitedly and throwing around ideas.  For her article, she asked to review nice restaurants in the area, possible candidates for pre-Prom dinners and fancy dates.  I told her, great; make up a list.

She returned her list to me the next day: it consisted of five or six steakhouses in Baltimore.  Hmm.  I gently suggested she branch out a little: what about seafood, for which Baltimore is renowned?  No, she’d only been to one seafood restaurant and hadn’t liked it.  What about a Brazilian churrasceria or one of the venerable pasta houses in Little Italy?  She hadn’t been there either.  What about people who don’t eat meat?  “Well, there’s other things on the menu.”  I suggested she talk to some other people about good restaurants, but she didn’t want to do that in case they might be wrong.  Bottom line: she wanted to write an article consisting solely of restaurants she had been to and liked a lot.

I made an appointment with the guidance counselor to talk this through, since I felt a lot of hostility toward the mere suggestions I’d dared to make.  But after that, I started thinking about how all this “Like”ing might have affected her ability to see the bigger picture and consider, if not respect, the opinions of others.  My students aren’t even offended when I say, “Who cares what you think?”  They simply dismiss the thought.  Of course people care.  It’s their opinion, and opinions are interesting, especially their own.