Every siren should be a reminder that someone is in trouble — a victim, a perpetrator, an officer who is ready to the the right thing, and an officer who is in danger of doing the wrong thing.
Read the rest at the Register.
***
Every siren should be a reminder that someone is in trouble — a victim, a perpetrator, an officer who is ready to the the right thing, and an officer who is in danger of doing the wrong thing.
Read the rest at the Register.
***
The other week, we visited the Worcester Art Museum in MA. I heartily recommend it if you’re in the area (and it’s free all through August!). They had a world class collection with tons of variety, from pre-Columbian art to this guy; it was quite kid friendly (a docent in the armor display helped the kids try on helmets and gauntlets), the docents were genial and well-informed, and they had the exhibits arranged well to really help you see them. We saw everything in about three hours, and had time to go back and look at our favorite rooms. Looks like they have a pleasant cafe and a bunch of programs, classes, and demonstrations, too.
About what happened in the photo above, I take full responsibility. I’ve been reading them Black Ships before Troy: The Story of the Iliad and he got kind of hung up on Helen of the Fair Cheeks.
Of the Fair Cheeks.
I’m just glad he didn’t notice what was going on on the B side of some of those Grecian urns. Whoo-ee!
Anyway, we had such a good time that I want to encourage everyone to bring your kids to an art museum this summer, even if you don’t think of yourself as one of those high culture families. If you’re in New England, don’t forget about Free Fridays (which includes art museums and lots of other fun stuff).
Here’s something I wrote a few years ago, on that topic of why adults sometimes struggle with visiting art museums, and how kids can show us how to do it better. For more reading on this topic, check out “Introducing Children to Art” by an actual artist, John Herreid, who is raising three hilariously arty kids.
***
Remember the scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, when the Holy Grail is being snatched again by the bad guys? Indy cries out in righteous indignation: “That belongs in a museum!” I love me some Indiana Jones, but I have regretfully come to the conclusion that this line was not meant ironically. This really is the highest compliment that Americans can pay to an object of beauty and worth: that it belongs in a museum. I heard someone say the exact same thing in real life, when our college group first stepped out into one of the teeming, sun-drenched piazzas in Rome. There was a magnificent fountain in the middle of the square, featuring a sculpture carved by one of the giants of Western art. And people were sitting on it, and smoking, and drinking terrible wine, and flirting with each other, trying to sell socks out of a duffle bag, and generally acting like this timeless piece of art was theirs. Almost tearful with outrage, the fellow cried out, “That should be in a museum!”
He meant that it ought to be protected from the elements, and also from bird droppings and graffiti and vandals. But he also meant that it ought to be tucked away indoors, where the lighting could be controlled, where people would speak in hushed tones as they file past in reverence — where only the select few, acting in a very select way, would see it, and no one would get comfortable with it. And there, he was disastrously wrong.
Art museums are necessary because they are the most convenient way to preserve and share works of art which would otherwise be tucked away in the private homes of the very wealthy. But there is always the danger of museumishness taking over the work of art — making us forget why the artist made the piece in the first place. It’s a relatively new idea that art is here to “challenge” us, to jar us out of whatever cultural sin is currently considered intolerable. Instead, the great artists of every century have all said one thing: “I see something! You come and see it, too! Do you see?”
Well, that’s a pretty big topic. But in this little post, I can say that the problem with putting something in a museum is that it tends to give the impression that the question, “Do you see it, too?” is already answered. We feel like we have to stroke our chins gravely and say, “Yes, yes, of course I see,” whether we do or not, because there it is, in a museum. It must be Real Art. No wonder so many people have an aversion to art. They think they’re expected to respond like highly educated robots when the encounter it.
What’s the cure for a case of Stifling Museumishness? Take your kids to the museum with you . . . and do what they do.
Oh, listen, if your kids are awful, please don’t take them to a museum. If they can’t be controlled, don’t take them. If they can’t tell the difference between indoors and outdoors, and if they don’t obey you, and if otherwise kind people groan audibly when they see your family coming, then by all means, stay home.
But many parents underestimate how responsive their kids will be to good art. Kids in art museums will often behave in a way that is not only tolerable, but which the adult patrons should imitate.
Kids do not talk in whispers, as if they are at the bedside of a dying tyrant. Why do we whisper in front of art? We shouldn’t speak loudly, to distract other patrons; but a normal, conversational tone of voice is completely appropriate. Talking about what you’re seeing isn’t rude! It’s a natural thing to do, and makes the experience so much more rewarding, when you hear other people’s takes on what you’re seeing. I also like to eavesdrop on strangers’ conversations — so sue me.
Kids do not pretend to like things they don’t like. It’s one thing to have an open mind; it’s quite another to be a sucker. Many museums have extensive collections in the ever-popular genre of Egregious Crapola, and sometimes it really is only kids who are willing to point this out. Many adults have been duped into giving up on beauty; most kids have not. (But really, each kid is allowed to say, “I could have done that in ten minutes with a gallon of housepaint and a stick!” one time, and then they’re done. This comment may or may not be true, but it gets old fast.)
Kids are also remarkably open to admitting that there is more than meets the eye. They may shrug or grimace in front of a wonderful piece, but they are usually ready to listen if you point out, “No, look at how the light shines through that leaf!” or “See how realistic her hand looks — but get closer, and it’s just a bunch of paint” or “But why do you think this guy on the side has that look on his face?” or “Holy mackerel, what is this?!?”
Kids laugh at paintings – not only ones that look ridiculous, but ones which are meant to be funny. There is nothing sillier than a bunch of adults gravely appreciating the finer points of a work of art which is supposed to be hilarious.
Kids do not suffer from appreciation anxiety. Some adults who feel insecure in their grasp of art may spend their entire museum time wondering how obvious their lack of expertise is. Well, that’s no way get to be more of an expert! Kids don’t think about how they appear to others; they just look at the art.
Kids do not waste their time looking at exhibits that don’t interest them, out of a sense of duty or thrift. They will keep circling back to take another look at that one room or one piece they really like, and that is a much more natural response than trying to “do” the whole museum just because it’s there.
Okay, yes, and some kids will go berserk and behave like little demons, while their fond parents look on and do nothing. Or if you have a generally decent child who is temporarily going through a highly unreasonably, ridiculously loud stage, then this is probably not the best time to work on enhancing their cultural education. But really, if your kids are generally the non-demonic, non-berserker types, consider taking them to a small museum next time you have a chance. Wear comfortable clothes, discuss expectations ahead of time, plan a small treat for afterwards, and just relax. You will probably have a lovely time!
**
A version of this post originally ran in the National Catholic Register in March of 2013.
Part I: The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Burden of Natural Family Planning
Part II: Dealing with Frustration (continued)
Part III: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love NFP III
In wealthy, progressive Seattle, polio vaccination rates are lower than in Rwanda. Parents in Zimbabwe, Rwanda, Algeria, El Salvador, Guyana, Sudan, Iran, Kyrgyzstan, Mongolia and Yemen are doing more to protect their children from this crippling and often deadly disease than some American parents.
This dangerous trend is due, in part, to historical amnesia. There are fewer and fewer people around who remember the devastation of the polio epidemics of the late 1940′s and early 50′s. Between 19445 and 1949, something like 20,000 American contracted polio. In 1952, there were 58,000 cases. Ten of thousands of American were paralyzed; many died. The nation was terrified, and rightly so.
Read the rest at the Register.
***
My sister Abby used to write an NFP column called “Signs and Wonders.” Her husband, naturally, referred to it as “Slimes and Blunders.” See? Marriage building!
With that in mind, this one goes out to all you Creighton folks. Caption this for NFP Awareness Week:
Or, maybe I’m in the wrong frame of mind to write about NFP Awareness Week.
The Pope has appointed three new auxiliary bishops to serve in the massive archdiocese of Los Angeles. One is Fr. Robert Barron, the wildly popular author, speaker, and founder of Word on Fire ministries. I’m not familiar with the second pick, Msgr. David O’Connell, but I do know the third, Msgr. Joseph Brennan — “Uncle Joe” to us. He’s my husband’s uncle, and we are thrilled for Los Angeles.
Read the rest at the Register.
***
One thing I gave short shrift to in my book is the idea of the contraceptive mentality. Where did the phrase come from, what did it originally mean, how is it used most often today, and how much should you be freaking out about it right now?
I’ll be talking about all those things in Wichita in a few weeks at the Midwest Catholic Family Conference. I’m thrilled to be joining a truly illustrious group of speakers and presenters, including Tim Staples, Pia di Solenni, and Matt Maher. I’ll also be giving one of my favorite talks: “Beautiful Stranger: Making Contact with the Mother of God” — about how a non-Marian person like me learned to know, love, and run to Mary, grubby hands, snot nose and all.
The conference runs August 7-9 and there is still time to register. I can’t wait to meet all my midwest friends in real life!
“I Don’t Own My Child’s Body” is the weirdly melodramatic title of a parenting piece from CNN Living. (It’s from 2012, but is making the rounds again.) You can see from the URL that the original title was probably something more like, “Give Grandma a Hug” — and that’s really all the piece is about. The author’s kid sometimes doesn’t feel like hugging or kissing somebody, so her mom doesn’t make her:
She doesn’t have to hug or kiss anyone just because I say so, not even me. I will not override my own child’s currently strong instincts to back off from touching someone who she chooses not to touch.
Okay, lady. Big deal. I don’t make my kid take off her favorite outfit, which happens to be a heavily upholstered puppy costume, but it’s because (a) it’s not hurting anyone, and (b) I’m saving my strength for the big battles. And I also don’t make my kids hug or kiss people they don’t want to hug or kiss. Like the author’s child, they are required to be polite, but not in a way that skeeves them out. But then the author goes on to say:
I figure her body is actually hers, not mine.
She then quotes a mental health clinician who says that insisting that your child hug a relative
sends a message that there are certain situations [when] it’s not up to them what they do with their bodies … If they are obligated to be affectionate even if they don’t want to, it makes them vulnerable to sexual abuse later on.
She backs this up with a warning from parenting blogger Jennifer Lehr:
“Certainly no parent would wish for their teenager or adult child to feel pressure to reciprocate unwanted sexual advances, yet many teach their children at a young age that it’s their job to use their bodies to make others happy,” [Lehr] said
The readers of the piece largely agreed with the author, many of them immediately bringing up the phrase “rape culture.” They firmly believe that there is a direct, possibly inevitable line between “Please give Grammy a kiss, because it makes her happy” and “Please put out for the entire varsity football team, because it makes you valuable as a person.”
I suppose it’s possible that some kids could make that connection, but only if there are other severe problems with the family of origin or with the child’s mental or emotional health. Healthy families with standard-issue kids do not need to be on permanent freak-out mode about their kids’ bodies. What you do is you tell your kids, “Look, unless I say it’s okay, like at the doctor’s office, nobody is supposed to touch you under your clothes, and nobody is supposed to get near the parts of your bodies that are covered by underwear. And if somebody does something that makes you feel creepy, you tell Mom or Dad right away.” And then you give them lots and lots of examples of normal affectionate behavior, so they can tell the difference between things you go along with, and things you fight.
This article, with its ludicrous leap of logic, reminded me of a phenomenon I see more and more: the most progressive parents, those who embrace every modern degradation of sex, marriage, and childbearing, are the ones who are the most likely to go completely overboard when trying to keep their children safe. I don’t know a darn thing about the author of this article, but if she’s writing for a major news outlet, chances are she’s not pro-life. Her audience certainly isn’t likely to be. And yet here she is, saying, “I don’t own my child’s body.”
I’m going to try really hard not to talk about abortion here, because I don’t want to have the same old, same old, same old conversation. I know that pro-lifers will say, “If you don’t own your child’s body, then you don’t have the right to murder him in the womb!” and pro-choicers will say, “If a child owns his own body, then so do I, and that includes anything that might be inside my body, like a parasitic fetus!”
So let’s not even talk about that phrase, “I don’t own my child’s body.” Let’s talk about why this kind of article is so common — why, as our culture accepts more and more horrors as commonplace, there is an attendant increase in hysteria over little things, trivial dangers, potential risks.
Why do we fret over the dangers of hugging, but shrug aside — well, death? The death of babies. The crushing of heads, the marketing of organs. How is this possible?
It’s not enough to say, “Hypocrisy! Evil!” I believe the two phenomena, the hyper-tenderness and the cruelty, are actually related: one comes from the other.
We look around, compare our world to that of our grandparents, and the guilt seeps in like blood through a bandage. We know there is something amiss – all of us do. And so we compensate by making sure that we’re assiduous about bodily integrity and safety for our chosen children.
Extremism is a very convenient mask for existential negligence and evil. When we get hysterical over something minor, we feel like we’ve done our duty — we’ve hit all the right notes: I CARE about my child. I THINK about how I am raising her. I have GUIDING PRINCIPLES that sometimes make other people feel uncomfortable. I’m not AFRAID to tackle the hard issues.
And once you’ve hit the right notes, it’s easier to tell yourself that you’re singing a tune that is very beautiful indeed — never mind that that “Ave Maria“ and “Deutschland Uber Alles” have a lot of notes in common, too. It’s no coincidence that modern people are capable of both deep cruelty and overly fastidious care: these are two sides of the same coin.
***
In honor of nobody’s favorite week of the year, my book’s on sale all week!
These prices will hold until July 27th, so step lively!