The Worst Christmas Pageant. Ever.

My children attend a public elementary school in the Midwest.

So each Winter Concert there has always been at least one Christian Holiday song.  That might bother some atheist parents. Surprisingly enough, it hasn't really bothered me. Maybe because I once loved and cherished those songs. The two that seem to appear each year is "Silent Night" and "Away in a Manger". Usually the kindergarten children play the hand bells along to them. I think it's sweet and they are rather easy songs. I can see why the music teacher selected those two songs for the youngest students in the school.

This year, their music program was called, 'Paint the Town December'. For the past two months, I heard my children sing the songs they were learning at school while they played at home. Based on the songs they were singing, it was going to be a wonderfully diverse program.

We arrived at the auditorium and took our seats. The 5th grade band played "Jingle Bells" and the older children sang some songs. Then the kindergarten children took the stage and played "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" and "Away in a Manger" on the hand bells.

So far, it had matched each Concert that the school had put on since my children started attending there three years ago.

The first through fifth graders started walking down the aisle towards the stage and were looking around for their parents and waving when they found them. Parents were standing up trying to get their students attention. I was trying to locate each of my children so I knew where to look during the performance.

Once the students were settled and ready to go, they started with a non-religious song called "Paint the Town December", and it was really sweet.

From that point on, the Winter Concert became something other than what it should have been. I couldn't believe how many racist stereotypes were blended into something that I was expecting to be so very diverse.

As the children with speaking parts took the stage dressed in berets, white painter smocks and thin mustaches, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. Their role in the Concert/Play was the painters. They were walking from store front to store front offering to paint the windows in the town with holiday themes. (Paint the town December, ah, I get it.)  But every time one of the students opened their mouths to speak, a thick, stereotypical French accent came out. I glanced at my husband and he gave me a look that said, "Give it time, maybe they just missed the mark on this part."

I wish it had stopped there. I really do. But every time they represented any culture or people who weren't Caucasian Christians, their portrayals were steeped in stereotypes.

The next song was a Hanukkah song. The children with speaking parts came out with yarmulkes and side curls. They spoke with heavy Yiddish/Hebrew accents. 

Then it was time for Kwanzaa... Same deal. Offensive stereotypical accents and garb. 

Even the secular song, "Up on the Roof Top" ended with a little boy yelling, "God bless us, everyone." You would think that would have been the only moment to offend someone who is atheist. Nope. They kept going.

Next, they had a little girl in a hijab walk out on stage. She spoke briefly about Ramadan. They didn't make her speak in a heavy accent. But they also had no song. Granted, Ramadan was celebrated in July this past year, and only rarely falls in December, (last time was in 1999 and the next time will be 2030), but I could see how they were trying to touch on as many religious holidays as possible, even if it meant leaving out a few that actually are celebrated every December. (Chalica, Human Light, Saturnalia...)

I am from Southern California, an area that is alive with the wonderful Hispanic Culture of so many different races. So when the children were setting up for the song, "Las Posadas", I was cringing before they even opened their mouths to speak.

The children were wearing over sized sombreros and ponchos that were made from small area rugs with holes cut in them for their heads to fit through. The fake accents were sloppy and offensive and I couldn't believe how the entire performance was riddled with pigeonholing and stereotypes.

Well, almost the entire performance. The one song that wasn't misconstrued by ignorant backwards thinking was the song that represented Christmas. The song was 'Shepherd Boy' and the children spoke in their normal accents, which weren't as 'country' or 'Southern' as they could have been. Or even should have been considering the running theme. They were reverent, soft and respectful. Did the store owner come out in a wife beater holding a shotgun? Nope. Did the children with speaking parts have bright white teeth and tans or speak like Valley Girls? Nope. They were just average, normal sounding children. There were a lot of American accents and stereotypes they could have chosen from. But because it represented THEM (mostly the person in charge of the performance, considering these are primary school children). It was something she could relate to, something that seemed 'normal' to her.

By the end of the performance, I was racking my brain for ways to un-educate my children who were obviously miseducated about so many wonderful cultures and so many different religions. We had already been celebrating Hanukkah, so I know that would be something that I had already, recently, put the foundations for in place.

I was so disappointed. I went in with such high expectations of diversity and well represented cultures and religions and I walked away with such a bitter taste from the pigeonholing that only stopped for a brief moment when the children sang a song that represented the majority of the school, and the music teacher.

I wanted to write a letter to the school, but I don't even know where to start. I loved the premise, I hated the execution.  I wasn't planning on making my children's Winter Concert into a huge learning lesson at home, but now I know I must.

Allowing Children to be in Public

I read this on a friend's facebook page in response to my friend posting an article from a father who had a bad run in at a local grocery store while his child was having a melt down...

"Parents, control your brats. I'm sick of hearing ear-piecing screaming everywhere I go. Not all the world is a Chucky Cheese restaurant. If you can't control your brats keep your goddamn legs closed long enough to buy a box of condoms. Don't bring your screaming toddlers into the movie theater two minutes before the movie starts and sit right behind me. Don't bring your crying babies into the coffeeshop where people are trying to read and have conversations. Don't bring your children incapable of lowering their voices to indoor level into restaurants where I budget money to have a nice night out at a place where people are supposed to be able to spend precious time with friends and hear each other. Leave the kids at home. Start a baby-sitting coop where mommies take turns watching each others kids. Establish public behavior expectations for your kids. If you can't keep them quiet, keep them away from people. Keep them home. They're not as adorable to other people as they are to you. Stop letting them pick their noses and grab cookies and put them back on the serving plate. Stop letting them take a bite out of cookies and put them back on the serving plate. Stop letting them eat sticky candy and touching everything and making the whole world sticky." ~Mary Hunt

I wanted to respond on facebook, but I didn't want to butt into a conversation that I wasn't invited to. Plus facebook isn't always the best place.  My blog, on the other hand, is perfect. 

Both friends are skeptics/non believers/atheists etc, so what better place to vent a bit, than my atheist blog. 

Where do I start? Is there even a place to start?

I have as much control of my children as I do of ignorant bigots and idiot strangers. Okay, maybe that isn't entirely true. I can bribe and punish my children more effectively that I can others, but that isn't to say that sometimes parenting small people, who have their own decision making skills and their own unique personality flaws, doesn't almost seem impossible. 

My mother always told me that the more children I had, the easier mothering would become. My mother is a pathological liar.

Parenting is difficult. I made the choice to become a parent (with each child) and I stopped at two children, but that doesn't make parenting any easier or harder than someone with one or twenty children. Having that much responsibility on your shoulders to raise responsible citizens that don't turn into serial killers is sometimes marginalized or looked at as being an easy job; and if we can't handle it, then we should magically go back in time and chose not to have children. Sorry peeps, it doesn't work like that.

I have ofttimes witnessed the eye rolls of others, judging the struggling parent who is juggling grocery shopping while trying to teach their child the proper way to behave in public. Children are stubborn little things. They don't always have the cognitive power to understand the 'why' behind mommy not letting them eat the grapes she just put in the basket right this instant, or the 'why' behind mommy saying no to the sugary cereal. It's not easy to explain things in easily understandable words to small, young people. And it's not easy rationalizing with them either. Nor is it easy feeling like the 'bad guy'.

To be clear, my children are angels. Sweet little demonic angels. I have been lucky that screaming tantrums didn't grace my children. When I was walking through the grocery store, saying no to all the wonderful treasures my children thought they absolutely needed, they would play opossum. Not kidding. My little K and her Irish twin sissy, little M, would lie down in the middle of the aisle and NOT MOVE. Luckily that doesn't bring the kind of attention as a flailing, screaming child does. But I didn't train them to do that. I didn't threaten them within an inch of their little precious lives, I didn't practice at home with duct tape and rope... nope (I know, what kind of mother AM I?)  That is just how they chose to express their frustration. 

...Mommy said no?  Okay, I'll just practice the civil disobedience mother patiently taught me at home and refuse to move away from the sugar coated, frosted chocolate, diabetes themed cereal and become practically immovable dead weight... 

They didn't scream, kick or bite. They just 'died'. 

Do I consider that a tantrum? HELL YES. 

Did I handle it in the same way that I would have if they had been screaming?  Yes. 

They were not going to get their way. That would be horrible parenting. No parent worth their weight would give in; THAT could turn a child into a brat. A child pushing their limits does not make them bratty. We ALL push our limits.  We just do it in different ways.

I push my limits while driving, while planning my day, when asking favors of friends, when I really want something from my husband. We all do it. Just little young people are still learning how to do it effectively. Positively reinforcing negative behavior isn't how you teach someone positive behavior.

Children should be taught to express themselves in a regular tone of voice, they should be taught to debate and stand up for themselves, but those lessons are learned over time. It's not a miraculous thing. Neither is learning to walk or ride a bike. Sometimes people fall, sometimes things don't come out right, sometimes people overreact. The same thing applies to children. How can anyone hold a small child to expectations they cannot met as an adult with decades more experience? How pathetic. 

Just to set the record straight, my children are also not allowed to act crazy in Chuck E Cheese either. What an ignorant thing to say. My children are expected to use their indoor voice at all times. Sometimes it doesn't happen and I have to gently remind them. Adults do the same thing. That doesn't mean that adults shouldn't be allowed to enjoy public spaces.

No one is perfect. And people should not throw stones, regardless of housing situation. People misbehave, no matter their age. Children know how to irritate their parents, they know their parents so well, they know the exact pitch to hit with their screams in order to get the fastest response. Trust me, while my children would go all opossum on me in the store, restaurants were so very different. I assume because restaurants tend to be loud, my children felt the need to scream above the noise to be heard. I have removed my children from restaurants to take them outside and have always done my best to help them reset. Does it always work? No. But as a parent, raising a child who I hope will one day save the world, I am doing my fucking best. 

Maybe instead of being such a judgmental shrew, Mary could rethink how SHE could be a better person in that kind of situation. Did you see a mother of two tending to one child who was hurt or needed help, and witness the child behind her take a cookie, bite it and put it back? How about you walk your lazy ass over, pick up that cookie and any others it touched with a napkin and dispose of it. Mother's don't automatically get eyes in the back of their head once a child in placed in their arms. Crazy, I know!

I hate to be the one to remind you, but this world isn't a man's world, it isn't a childless person's world, it isn't even a child's world. What kind of narcissist would expect people to live around HER? Should I ask permission prior to taking my child out to eat on their birthday? Some days people feel awesome and ready to conquer the world, other days, people don't feel so great. The same applies to young people.  Just because we are out to celebrate, doesn't mean my child feels like it. Sometimes they don't tell me because they are still learning to put their emotions into words.

Granted, there are some lazy parents, parents who have given up, maybe they didn't want to be parents to begin with. Maybe they have struggles that you don't see. Maybe the child has special needs that aren't apparent to the judgmental eye of folks.  Sometimes the child screaming is screaming because they can't get their parent to understand them and the parent could not care less. But every single parent I know does their best. They love their children and want their children to behave themselves too. But it's a work in progress. 

No one thinks their child picking their nose is adorable. When I see my children itching themselves or picking at things, I try to guide them to do it in private and to use a tissue. Children itch what needs to be scratched, they are still being modeled to be accepted into our society as 'normals' and sometimes it takes practice. What a dumb thing to say. I have never told my children that picking their nose and touching things is socially appropriate, how did you come up with this stuff?

Sometimes it feels like we are so used to complaining about and bashing others that we don't take a moment to have basic human compassion and empathy for them. I understand how frustrating it can be to plan a date night, budget in money for a movie and dinner (AND a babysitter) just to sit down next to a table full of rowdy children.  Does it kinda suck? Sure, but I've been the mother at that table of loudmouth, excited children. I can sympathize and it's not a crime to ask for a different table or move to the bar. I've done that as well, because I am a full grown adult that understands that people don't live around me. If I am uncomfortable, whatever the reason, I remove myself. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Life goes on.

I don't want to touch upon the misogynistic things she said about keeping legs closed, that is an entirely different can of worms that my feminist punk ass won't get started on. Dude... whatever happened to not saying things if you don't have anything nice to say, especially when what you have to say is borderline vicious?  Maybe Mary's mother should have done a better job raising her.  Since raising perfectly proper children is obviously as easy as tying your laces.

We no longer live in an era where children are seen and not heard. Same with women and mothers and minorities. Don't like it? How about you stay at home and not go out in public since it seems like you don't even have the skills you require to be out with the rest of the world.

One last thing I want to point out:

No matter how much you clean your kids or wash their hands or prevent them from eating sticky things, most children, by nature, tend to be sticky. (That is why most parents carry around wet wipes.) Fucking deal with it like a gawd damned adult.

Hanukkah

I was privileged to give a short lesson to a group of kindergarteners about the Jewish holiday Hanukkah this December.

I know what you must be thinking, an Ex-Mormon atheist gave a lesson to a bunch of 5 year old children about a Jewish holiday... Yeah, it happened. In the middle of Indiana too.  And it was actually pretty neat.

I told them the story of the Maccabees and we spun dreidels and I shared some gelt and stickers. They listened and kinda sat still. My kindergartener helped me pass out the stickers and gelt. She felt like such a big girl. She held up our Menorah and walked it all around the room to show it to her classmates.

At the end of my lesson my daughters' teacher thanked me for coming in. She then asked if our family was Jewish. I said no, but we do celebrate Hanukkah because we want our children to learn about other people and their traditions.  She said she only asked because last week my daughter had told one of her classmates that Jesus was dead and god wasn't real.

As much as it caught me off guard, it really shouldn't have. She is my youngest child and she is very matter of fact about things.  I was little embarrassed because I have had this talk with my daughters about how some people believe in a god, some believe in Jesus and sometimes people believe in Santa. And that they shouldn't tell them that what they believe is wrong. I know that day will come before I know it.

I think the teacher saw me hesitate after she told me about the facts my little one had said earlier in the week, she then asked if we were Christian. I answered with a no, and then said my husband and I were raising our children as freethinkers. She smiled and then remarked about how they could then decide for themselves later on. I felt like she was the first outsider who 'got' it. Even though I hope that there will be no decision for them to ever make because I raised them to know better.

It felt good to help a classroom full of kindergarteners understand another culture and religion, even if it wasn't mine. It felt good to give my child the opportunity to have answers that her classmates wanted to know.

Happy thoughts of acceptance

I was once a Girl Scout. I sold the cookies, went on the camping trips, earned patches and memorized 100's of campfire songs, mottos and ghost stories. I have very happy memories of making friends and belonging to something outside of church and school. So when our daughters asked if they could join their local Daisy group, my husband and I said yes.

Tonight was the night for sign ups and I met my husband and our daughters at their elementary school. We filled out all the necessary paperwork while the girls worked on crafts with the troop leader. My husband and I watched as the girls gathered around to learn the Girl Scout Promise. The girls held up three fingers, getting ready to recite the promise, and my thoughts went back to when I was young and I learned the same thing they were about to learn.  Then it hit me. I turned to my husband, but it was too late. I told him that the Promise mentions a god, and as I was saying that, the leader had the girls repeat that line, 'to serve god and my country'.

Now, my girls recite the pledge of allegiance every morning at school. I have told them that if they ever don't want to say the pledge, they don't have to. (My issue with the pledge isn't only with the mention of a deity.) They know they are allowed to decide, change their minds, consider and debate their own beliefs. They don't have to believe what mommy or what daddy does.

My sweet youngest daughter is fairly outspoken and I have tried time and time again to make sure she never pushes her lack of belief in a god, Santa, the Easter Bunny or monsters on anyone, especially her peers. She was already told by a well meaning friend that if she doesn't believe in Jesus, he will eat her. (To which I am sure she argued the point that not only is Jesus dead, but there are no such thing as zombies.)

But my youngest repeated the promise as her leader taught her, as did my eldest. A selfish sigh of relief came out of me; explaining our Atheism in the middle of the Midwest to a bunch of children and mothers wasn't high on my list of wants tonight. Then there was that pause in little M's eyes, that little hesitation and I knew in my heart that she was about to out us. I looked over at my husband and he began to blush. I knew that feeling as I could feel my cheeks getting red. Great, I thought, just great.

Little M looked at the troop leader and asked, "Why did you say god?" I took a deep big girl breath and prepared for the leader to turn towards me, and politely ask us to leave. I know that is not the Girl Scout way, but I do live in the place that is known for it's holier-than-thou religious folks. Then something amazing happened, the leader looked at little M and said that some people believe in god, but if they don't want to say god, they can say something else, or they can skip that part.

The heaviness in my heart lifted. I wasn't going to have to explain to crying little girls why they were kicked out of their troop on the first day. Then little M pushed on, she said, "I don't believe in god or Santa." My throat tightened, I didn't want my children to feel the sting of rejection from an adult, or for the other little Daisies to attack. The leader calmly explained to little M that it's okay for her not to believe in god, that some people are Christian or Jewish and that those people do. Oh thank FSM, the conversation didn't explode into a thousand tiny accusations and prejudices.

But anyone who knows my little M, knows she wasn't done yet. Her troop leader had mentioned Judaism and Little M took that opportunity to tell her leader about Hanukkah, and how she loves to light the candles. Her troop leader then asked Little M if she was Jewish. Little M said no, but that Hanukkah was her favorite holiday. The troop leader impressed me again, and said, "It's so great that you celebrate a holiday that is not from your beliefs, that is how we all can learn about each other."

My little M looked over at me with a big smile on her face. She was accepted for who she was, with no negativity or scorn. Little M and her shy, older sister were taught something that I couldn't teach them as their mother, that it's okay to not believe, it's okay to be yourself and it's okay to learn about other people, as we all learn from each other.

I know not every encounter where little M speaks up about her beliefs will go as wonderfully as tonight, maybe that is why I am so grateful, but I know that every time my child is accepted for who she is by people who are different from her, it's an amazing thing.