I volunteered recently as a registrar/tabulator at an event designed to help children ages 8 to 10 demonstrate their proficiency in making consumer choices. The kids each had to listen to a scenario for eight minutes (with the help of supplementary material they had been sent in advance), then rank the products based on which one was the best choice given factors including quality and price.
I had registered the kids (teams of four), then as they completed sections of the activity, I added their scores to the scoresheet.
One contestant didn’t mark his answer on the score card that was turned in, even though he had kept note of it on his own documentation, as all the contestants had. That meant an automatic zero for one of four products.
As a side note, I see kids at things like this who I’m pretty sure are on a relatively straightforward trajectory to success. They obey the rules. They are well-spoken. They have listening skills that are developmentally appropriate. They are motivated by the idea of winning a trophy or ribbon, and also by the idea of either leading or contributing to a team.
Back to my “no-answer” contestant. Although I had been instructed by the contest moderator to give him a zero, his group leader had brought him forward and asked to let him record his score (which we did).
What followed was an exchange between him and his group leader that was tough to watch. It would be silly based on five minutes of interacting with a child and watching his interactions with another adult to put him in a box.
However, holding a degree in child development (yes, I’m now an editor so make of that what you will) and having raised two children, one of whom was (understatement) not a “jump through the hoops” kind of youngster, my heart hurt for him.
I don’t want to get into a verbatim replay of the dialogue, but “you’re in trouble” came up and “you shouldn’t have said no.”
Although this little boy’s future is unknown, here are 10 things I wish I could have conveyed to him that day:
You are valued
Your brain may not work the same as other kids, but that doesn’t mean it works in a bad way
Saying “no” is not always the right choice, but there are times in your life when it absolutely will be
Being “in trouble” is about the behavior you chose, not about who you are
I want to know what you thought about the product and which one you thought was best
I’d like to know about your life — what is your favorite thing to do?
I’d like to give you a hug (with consent of course)
I wish you were enjoying yourself
You’re not a loser (in fact, his team did place despite his issues — I’ll spare you the explanation)
You are enough
“You are enough” gets said a lot lately. It makes for a good social media shareable image (and hey! there’s a new one for you at the end of this post!). It’s for a good reason, because so many of us struggle (whether we are children or adults) with appreciating our own strengths rather than beating ourselves up for our shortcomings, the real ones and the ones that are probably not as monumental as we let them become in our minds.
Some of these monumental, imagined shortcomings took root before we turned 11.
I’m linking this post up two places:
Five Minute Friday, which had “unknown” as its prompt this week (and it took me far longer than five minutes to write this, for what it’s worth)
Kat Bouska’s blog, for the prompt, “Write a post in just 10 lines.” I kind of fudged those directions to, but it’s OK, because I know I am enough (wink).
I am positive every one of the hundreds of “sister survivors” would have traded the trophy, the time on the national stage and the acclaim to have lived a childhood free of sexual abuse.
During the readalong, Pesta said one of her goals had been to capture the experiences of some of the athletes who may not have been as much on the public stage as gymnasts such as Aly Raisman and McKayla Maroney.
Pesta’s book was thoroughly researched, and the research was perfectly complemented by her human, compassionate treatment (without glossing over extremely graphic details) of the young women she interviewed (along with their families).
If a book could be said to have a mission statement, I think this one’s is: “Help heal the past while protecting people, especially children, from being victims in the future.”
As survivor Natalie Venuto said in a Goodreads comment, “…reading this book triggered a lot of painful memories, but I know that it will help me heal.”
Meridian Township apologizes
I downloaded “The Girls” on Audible immediately after hearing Pesta speak on the readalong. As coincidence would have it, I was reading the passage about Brianne Randall-Gay’s attempt to tell the Meridian Township police about Nassar’s abuse in 2004 right before I heard Township Manager Frank Walsh and Chief of Police Ken Plaga iave a presentation, “A National and Personal Apology,” at the ICMA conference. It was one of the top sessions out of hundreds of options.
Here’s the police report:
The police called Brianne’s family in after they completed their investigation, told them Nassar had confirmed his practices were accepted medical standards, and explained they were not pursuing any charges.
In 2018, after it became apparent that Nassar had gone on to abuse hundreds of athletes after Brianne, the Meridian Township in Michigan issued a public apology.
Walsh outlined five main takeaways other local government professionals should learn from this experience. The last one was, “investigate, apologize and foster change.”
Meridian Township has made drastic changes in their investigation protocol since this situation was mishandled. Walsh noted how the police report described in detail where Nassar inserted his finger into Brianne’s vagina, but it also says that he repeatedly massaged her breasts. Walsh discusses the powerpoint Nassar gave to supposedly document the medical nature of the treatment, but it does not refer at all to a breast massage. When a reporter pointed out the breast massage and its total irrelevance to the “treatment,” the reporter asked “How did you miss that?” A valid question, and the township is addressing that by the revisions to training and procedures.
Although the title of the session was “A National Apology,” and the apology was its centerpiece, the “foster change” part is undoubtedly the township’s most lasting legacy (that and whatever healing it allowed Brianne and her fellow survivors to experience).
This is a video made by Brianne that is now used in Michigan for training law enforcement and others. Even if you click out of this blog, please do it after taking the seven minutes to watch this.
A former gym mom’s perspective
The New York Times Readalong community has become a close-knit group over its four years. This was pretty candid on my part, but I am comfortable enough in this group that I knew I could say it with support. One of my first comments as we were talking with Abigail Pesta and I was processing her description of her interactions with the survivors was, “I hope as a gym mom I would have had the strength to put aside my stage mom tendencies and see what was happening to my child.”
I’m not especially proud of it, but I had my own agenda that was a counterpoint to my daughter’s gymnastics goals. (And obviously, her gymnastics life is her story to tell, but it was a significant piece of my parenting, so I’m speaking strictly from my perspective.) I had been a fat, nonathletic kid who was always chosen last in elementary school for PE, and when I realized my child was an excellent athlete with the accompanying discipline and artistry, I was mainly relieved that her childhood wouldn’t be plagued by the self-doubt and ostracism that I had experienced on the sidelines of what appeared to be an athletic world I didn’t fit in.
We (probably more me!) would seek out private lessons anytime we traveled. There was a lengthy period where she didn’t feel well most days and I would give her a motrin and a decongestant — a combination that seemed to help her get through practice. Our expenditures were probably somewhat modest compared to some competitive gymnastics programs (thank you TGC for being so affordable!), but they were significant and included doctor visits to check out little physical twinges, nights spent worrying about a variety of things and the loss of perspective regarding whether she was happy or not.
She won the Level 4 state championship in 2006 and decided to leave the sport in 2007.
In retrospect, gymnastics was good for her (even with my stage mom-ness), and she left at the right time.
Most important, she was at a gym where she did not end up being sexually abused. I can only hope if I had been sitting in a room where a “doctor” was putting his bare fingers in her vagina on the premise that it was “helping” her (Nassar often conducted his abuse with a parent in the room, by strategically placing himself in a way that he disrupted the parent’s line of vision), my good sense would have overridden my ambition and I would have said, unequivocally and persistently, “THIS IS NOT RIGHT.”
Sports culture
I also think you could delete all of the references to gymnastics apparatus, leotards and the US Gymnastics Association from this book and it would stand alone as a testament to a culture that encourages children and their parents to trade a somewhat normal childhood for a regimented one that leads to scholarships and (potentially) money.
We will always be a culture that praises accomplishment, I think, but where does it end? Where do we as parents (and relatives/friends of young people) reinforce the message that “you are enough” whether you are an accomplished young athlete or not?
Communities protect predators
Another thread through Pesta’s book and the speech by Walsh and Plaga was the way people who abuse children often infuse themselves into the community and position themselves as a “good guy.”
Walsh noted that Nassar was running for school board in his community in 2016. Nassar got “over 2,000 votes” even after the initial story about his abuse was released. Walsh also commented about the 35,000 images of child pornography found in Nassar’s dumpster in front of his house when police conducted an investigation. Walsh said many people think it may be the pornography, not the experiences of the hundreds of his victims, that ensured he got jail time.
Nassar befriended these young women (it was grooming, not true friendship), gained the trust of their families, fooled almost everyone.
Preventing future sexual abuse
When I was sexually abused by a trusted adult when I was 13, I was fortunate that my parents believed me. Yet I am still haunted all these years later by the fact that it can’t have been just me that he was taking advantage of.
It’s one of the reasons “The Girls” and the presentation by the Meridian Township officials has resonated so much with me.
What if that officer in 2004 had had better training regarding how to interview a victim of sexual abuse?
What if the guarantee of the nurse who processed Brianne’s rape kit when she worried that she would be perceived as lying “it’ll be OK – they’ll believe you” … had been correct?
What if hundreds of girls could have had their confidence and childhood innocence preserved because Nassar had been stopped in 2004 rather than 2016?
What if? What if? What if?
Here are some tips from Stop It Now! in the event a child in your life says they are being abused:
Stay steady
Believe what they say
Reestablish safety
Free them of self-blame
Express your rage to appropriate people
Get help
Brianne gets the last word
In the video I shared from Brianne, she says, “I have a wonderful family, a fulfilling career. I still suffer severe anxiety and nightmares related to the abuse.” She goes on to say “Today, myself and over 200 of my sister survivors stand together, bring awareness to childhood sexual abuse and promote a culture that no longer enables predators but empowers survivors.”
The ESPY was nice and well-deserved, but why did things have to go so far in the first place? Why are anxiety and nightmares still a part of Brianne’s life instead of just enjoying her young family and her adulthood?
Thank you, Brianne and sister survivors, for helping change this narrative. You are more than “the girls.” You are victors in every way.
I closed out October by going to my friend Rachel’s house for trick-or-treat. She lives in a neighborhood that is the center of activity for hundreds of ghosts, goblins and a T-Rex or two. Note to self: Don’t go to Rachel’s house next year unless it’s possible to get there before the kids descend. I’m just so relieved I didn’t take out a 3-year-old unicorn.
This month at SmartBrief felt a little like that too. Before I knew it, I was awash in great stories and couldn’t always see the road ahead of me very well for all the great content.
Food insecurity among college students comes up not infrequently in the articles I read for SmartBrief. In the October 10 issue, I learned about the Leftover Textover program at the University of Oregon, a program that sends text announcements to students when there is food left over after campus events. Makes so much sense, but why does this have to be?
Sigma Xi, the Science Honorary Society
Chances are you either played with oobleck as a kid, or made oobleck FOR a kid, or in some other way have encountered the ooey gooey substance. In our October 14 issue, we learned all about the scientific data behind the predictability of oobleck. I was fascinated!
The video embedded in the article was so cool; it reminded me of my son and his curiosity growing up.
UN Wire
Have you ever heard of Varosha? If you have, you’re ahead of me in the geopolitical knowledge realm. We discussed it in the October 11 issue, because the United Nations Security Council reaffirmed its intentions to protect the uninhabited part of the Cypriot city of Famagusta from being resettled. (There are concerns that Turkey will try to change its status.)
I kept reading the articles, and looking at the pictures, and marveling at how a previously 2.3-square-mile, civilized place can go uninhabited for FORTY-FIVE YEARS.
The concern is that Turkey would disrespect the rights of Cypriot people who deserve to go back to their homes. Honestly, this one stumps me a bit but here is a decent explanation. I just suspect if I were there, I would be so tempted to just put a foot on that forbidden sand.
National Emergency Number Association
I was happy to read in the October 8 issue about new California laws that benefit first responders. One creates standards for peer support programs and another providers workers’ compensation for stress-related illnesses.
Reserve Officers Association
Feeding National Guard members is no small task. I learned from our October 2 issue about the Army National Guard Food Service Phillip A. Connelly competition, which seeks to recognize the best cooks in the guard. The food service manager credited a regional win to “an emphasis on basic kitchen skills, hard work by the cooks, and support from the rest of the company.” I loved this article because — although it was about food prep — it was also about excellent team work and the value of supporting each other.
International City/County Management Association
Because of the way the ICMA newsletter is structured, stories in the top section, which is always a leadership story, almost always gets the most clicks.
When story that is not a leadership piece makes it into the “most read” category for a month, I know it struck a chord somehow.
Such was the case in the October 2 issue with a story about officials in Ames, Iowa, who insisted on keeping their rainbow crosswalks that were intended to celebrate inclusion. I learned all about the Federal Highway Administration’s rules about crosswalks, which have been an issue for crosswalk art in other cities such as the keyboard crosswalk in Rochester, N.Y.
I also had the pleasure of attending the ICMA conference in Nashville, Tenn.
The first day of the conference, Jake Wood, CEO and co-founder of Team Rubicon, spoke about conquering chaos. I wrote this post about the takeaways from his speech. And we met!
(The shirt and check were gifts from my Disney College Program parents’ group, which is giving proceeds from shirt sales to TR. Lucky me to be their messenger.)
And I wrote this post about the 10 words I heard on the conference’s final day that captured its essence.
About working at SmartBrief
As you can tell, it has been a full month. I feel so fortunate to have met so many of our readers at the conference. It meant so much when someone would say, “Oh I definitely get the newsletter!”
If you are interested in applying, please list me as your referrer or email me so we can discuss further.
A Recap
To subscribe to one (or more) SmartBrief newsletters, including the “end of the work day” While You Were Working, for which I am a contributing editor, click here.
(I’m linking up this week with Kat Bouska’s blog, for the prompt “write about something you’re looking forward to,” because I’m looking forward to what November brings.)
I am participating in 31 Days of Five Minute Free Writes 2019 (all of my submissions can be found here).
Today’s prompt is: ENJOY
Here’s an unexpected treat I enjoyed recently.
When I accompanied Wayne on his business trip earlier this week, we had two nights of the business trip part where we needed to make dinner decisions.
The first night, we ate seafood by the water. The next night, the plan was to go to Tarpon Springs and eat Greek food.
However, Wayne ended up not feeling very well, so we had to change our dinner plans.
His coworkers had raved about an Italian place down the road, so we agreed to get something from there “to go” that we could split.
What I didn’t know is that walking into Argento’s was going to throw me back about 30 years and more than 1,000 miles away.
The bakery case was full of all the goodness I remembered from Arthur Avenue in the Little Italy section of the Bronx, where I worked at Fordham University 1989-92.
I really wanted one of the more decadent treats (cheesecake, tiramisu, cannoli), but I knew I wouldn’t be hungry enough for that after a pasta dinner. There’s also the small issue of me being on Weight Watchers.
I settled for a modest cookie – sort of a shortbread with chocolate frosting.
I thought I would be disappointed, but every single bit of that cookie was delectable!
I’m sure it didn’t hurt that the way the people at the restaurant conducted themselves and sounded reminded me of the Bronx.
But I ended up not being disappointed that I had chosen a smaller dessert.
I enjoyed its taste as much as I enjoyed reminiscing about Little Italy.
The Greek meal will have to wait for another time, but I had the good fortune to send my taste buds (and my heart) on a little tiny trip to New York that night.
I am participating in 31 Days of Five Minute Free Writes 2019 (all of my submissions can be found here).
Today’s prompt is: MEMORY
The last couple of days didn’t go exactly as planned.
We took a short trip, to Orlando Sunday for a concert, then on to Port Richey because Wayne had a business meeting. Since I can work from anywhere (yay virtual work!), we decided I would tag along for a change of pace and to keep him company.
We planned to go to Tarpon Springs for Greek Food last night, but both of us had felt a tiny bit marginal the day prior (Monday on the way to Port Richey). By Tuesday, it was clear Wayne was worse than marginal. He made it through the day’s meetings, but we skipped the Greek food trip and did something a bit more stripped down foodwise.
Today, he had to skip the fun part of the meeting (it sounded fun to me at least — visiting Weeki Wachee). So there we were, him in bed in a hotel room. Me working on my laptop. Not too exotic.
The hotel gave us a 1:00 checkout when we checked in on Monday, but I knew I needed about another hour (at least) to finish my work.
No problem, I thought. I’ll just set up in the lobby and finish my work.
I completed a conference call I needed to be on, then went to tackle my work.
And I could. not. get. connected. to. the. Internet. It wanted me to be staying at Hilton still, so that was out. My hotspot wouldn’t connect. I tried going to a different physical location (near him) No go. I went back to my original spot, starting to freak out slightly due to the deadline nature of our work.
He came to me to return my power cord, which I had left behind, and I snapped (a bit).
I guess it’s a testimony to 27 years of marriage that he took being snapped at in stride. He knows how I feel about my work and how freakishly seriously I take it.
So we didn’t have any OPA! moments on this trip, but I have the memory of patience from my spouse, which is actually probably more important.
I am participating in 31 Days of Five Minute Free Writes 2019 (all of my submissions can be found here).
Today’s prompt is: PRACTICE
I remember (distantly) what a great feeling it was to practice something (mainly my flute) over and over and over and over until the piece was so ingrained in me that there was no way I would forget. So that I knew it well enough I could incorporate some personality into it and really enjoy a new level of the music.
I had YouTube on in the background today (long story) and there was some speaker talking about Malcolm Gladwell’s 10,000 hours theory. I know people have different opinions about that theory, but it is true that single-minded dedication to something is going to increase the likelihood that you’ll be better at it.
My writing has felt so wooden lately. Yet I know the only way out of being stuck in that less-than-creative place is to keep writing (and to get feedback).
I have 10 minutes left in the challenge after tonight. I am stunned at how fast it has gone by, at how easy it was to slip back into the habit of writing every morning again.
I probably should dedicate that five minutes to doing Spanish on Duolingo after October ends. Getting more fluent in Spanish is my perennial goal, and yet I usually end up writing about it instead of doing something about it.
In Nashville, I had one of those encounters I seem to fall into — where I ended up speaking Spanish to the housecleaning staff. I always wonder if they think I’m a nut when I do that, but I have spoken (“spoken”) long enough that it’s second nature to start speaking Spanish (such as it is) when with other people who are all speaking Spanish.
I probably give them something to chuckle about on the way home with all my mangled conjugations and oddly-off vocabulary choices.
Yet, it makes me so happy to speak Spanish with anyone. I guess someday we’ll all have apps that translate for us and reduce the need for us to be able to speak Spanish ourselves, but I don’t want that shortcut. I want the real deal.
Here’s what that will involve: Necesito practicar.
But first, ten more minutes of five-minute writing prompts (tomorrow night, Thursday night.
(and ha ha apparently I didn’t set the timer so I’m not sure how long this was. :-))
I am participating in 31 Days of Five Minute Free Writes 2019 (all of my submissions can be found here).
Today’s prompt is: TEST
“Don’t fall in love with Plan A.”
This statement was written on a little table card at a state-of-the-art public safety center I visited last Monday. The host had just told us about how the building was designed to foster collaboration. There were small areas with tables scattered all over the center, and there were whiteboards everywhere that could be used as part of discussions.
I assume these people are put to the test when a disaster happens and they must play their role, whether it be communications, dispatcher, IT or any of the many duties that have to be done.
The thing is, you can prepare over and over. You can train and drill, but you can’t always anticipate the change in events that will make your Plan A impossible or at least not preferable.
I felt the same after reading Five Days at Memorial, a book about Hurricane Katrina. The hospital had just done a hurricane drill. What they couldn’t anticipate was a triple threat: a hurricane, flooding and a power outage.
I seriously love procedures and following rules, so this situation would present a challenge to me. I know I’m not the one who would take charge, but I hope I would be the one to ask the questions to help people find a Plan B (if necessary) that increases productivity and potentially saves lives.
It is challenging to break through groupthink. It’s challenging to keep from succumbing to groupthink.
Yet the moments in our lives that matter call for us to do exactly that.
I am participating in 31 Days of Five Minute Free Writes 2019 (all of my submissions can be found here).
Today’s prompt is: BETTER
The things people will do to look “better” amaze me.
I was just listening to a report on the BBC World Service about Brazilian butt lifts, and how there are 20,000 of them per year in the US. I didn’t hear the beginning of the story, but I did hear the reporter describing how in some cultures the pressure to be curvaceous in that way is intense. I heard them say how dangerous the procedure is.
I can assure you, wanting a bigger or differently shaped derriere has *never* been a desire of mine!
Sometimes when I see famous people (usually women, but sometimes men) who are film stars and it is clear they have had their faces modified, I am aghast. I get the pressure to stay abreast in an industry that so values beauty, but the surgical treatments so often change something about their essence — their ability to be expressive and the intangible “something” that made them so inviting as a personality in the first place.
“Better” is definitely relative. Plastic surgery wouldn’t be thriving as an industry if a certain perspective on “better” hadn’t exploded so much in our world.
But I have to think these people, in many cases, might have lost touch with the best parts of themselves.
I am participating in 31 Days of Five Minute Free Writes 2019 (all of my submissions can be found here).
Today’s prompt is: ACCEPT
I was in Nashville for a conference last Saturday through Wednesday. I love traveling, and I love visiting cities especially.
This trip gave me a small punch in the gut as I processed something I thought I had accepted.
My college boyfriend was from the Nashville area, and I visited numerous times (five? six? I lost count). Such great memories — his welcoming family, visiting the Opryland hotel with its plant-filled atrium, the fall colors.
We broke up after college ended and moved on.
We had a few phone conversations after the breakup, but never saw each other again.
That was in the mid-80s.
I have been to Nashville twice since then. Once was a work trip for a conference, and I was with a colleague.
The second time, I was with my husband for his work trip.
This time, I was mostly solo (although I did have colleagues around for part of the trip).
I got a little bit stuck mentally in the what ifs. Not the what ifs of whether we would have stayed together (I know now that would have been a bad idea; I know he married and has kids and assume he’s happy, which is of course what I want the most).
But we aren’t social media friends (I requested, he didn’t accept and I’ve not checked recently but I think I’m blocked). It’s hard to accept that, because I put so much stock in being friends with everyone.
*** end of five minutes ***
One thing that becomes more apparent the older you get, though, is that it’s futile to force a friendship when for whatever reason it just isn’t in the cards.
I’m grateful for the role that person played in my life, for the fun we had, and for this opportunity to turn the situation over in my head (again). Maybe being there by myself was something I needed to do to say a more clear and compassionate goodbye.
I am participating in 31 Days of Five Minute Free Writes 2019 (all of my submissions can be found here).
Today’s prompt is: WAIT
Today, I had to stuff our two cats into somewhat ill-maintained cages to take them to the vet.
We have been remiss about taking our older cat, Alice Cooper, to the vet. The non-vet stretch started while Wayne was laid off quite a few years ago, and I am ashamed to say it continued for reasons that probably make sense (some financial challenges while my father-in-law lived with us among them).
But there I was today, responsible for getting both cats into cages. (We are boarding them while we are out of town for four days and possibly a few more days so we can hold an open house.)
I am still a little worn out from the process, honestly! The cages don’t stay put together very well. Alice (the docile cat) kept escaping (or trying to) and Bella was just a vicious, hissing ball of black fury.
There I was, a huge rope in my hand, trying to McGuyver some combination of knots and rope that would keep Bella in the cage. I put a huge case of silverware on top of Alice’s cage so she wouldn’t get away.
I was pretty inept, and was contemplating calling my husband to have him come home and help me (not really an option as he works in town and I work pretty far out at home).
My mind is still spinning a little bit. I hope I didn’t injure fragile Alice, honestly, in the effort to get her to stay (Bella is pretty darn resilient).
I was stressed because the vet had already given us a bit of an extension to get them there (because they need to have vaccinations since it has been so long). I had to finish a work thing that just was going to take as long as it took.
Maybe I should have calmed down and waited before getting the rope and frenetically trying to put the enclosure together.
I must have succeeded, because I got to the vet (did I mention it started raining the minute I needed to take them outside?)
Now it’s them (the cats) waiting on us to get home. We all need the time apart at this point, I think (yet the house seems so eerily quiet …)
