Note: AMAZING FINAL SALES & DONATIONS TOTALS FROM THIS BRACELET SALE CAN BE FOUND BY CLICKING HERE!
Dear readers, This is a big FIRST for the J-M Family Blog!… drumroll please…
For Sale to the highest bidder: 2 beaded bracelets handmade entirely by Owen and Kyle.
All proceeds from the sale of these bracelets will be evenly split between:
1) K & O, and 2) Heartline Haiti.
PLEASE READ FINE PRINT BELOW!
The only time we’ve done a fundraiser on this blog was in the summer of 2009. We raised some money then (it was awesome! click here for link). We’re hoping to raise some money again! The difference is, this time, it is entirely Kyle and Owen’s idea.
Last week was K & O’s school spring break. The day before their break began, I met with their first grade teacher for their parent teacher conferences. She had some nice things to say. She also let me know — loud and clear — that we “really need to work on their fine motor skills.” So, yeah…. they have ridiculously well-developed gross motor skills (can you say ATHLETES?!?!!), but let’s just say they need work in the fine-motor-department. So, I came up with a little fine-motor-project for their school break: these very complex-looking beaded bracelets (pictured above).
Years ago, before K & O were born, I was fortunate enough to go on an incredible 2-week-whirlwind-tour of South Africa. Amongst many arts and crafts that I bought there and brought home, I purchased a beaded bracelet that I absolutely cherished. It was made by a South African woman, entirely of safety pins and beads, and I thought it was such a clever and beautiful idea. Over the years I’ve shown it to Kyle and Owen often, and talked with them about my experiences in South Africa.
When I announced to my boys that they were each going to make one of these bracelets during their spring break I was met with the usual shock and dismay (they HATE anything crafty or fine-motor-skills-related and really all they wanted to do was play basketball in the driveway alllll daaaaay loooooong). They were not happy about this bracelet idea. At all. But as we got into the project something semi-miraculous happened— THEY ACTUALLY LOVED MAKING THEM! I was so completely stunned by this turn of events that I began photographing their handiwork as we progressed– mainly because I wanted documented proof to show Braydon that the boys (not me) had, indeed, made these completely themselves.
During the making of the bracelets we spent a lot of time chatting. The boys — on their own (I swear) — came up with the idea that they wanted to use our blog (they are becoming more and more aware of what this blog is really all about) to SELL the bracelets. At first they wanted to keep the profits for themselves entirely. But then they began talking about giving some of the money to Haiti. Ultimately they decided that ONE HALF of the proceeds will go to them and ONE HALF of the proceeds will go to Heartline Haiti (an organization that we trust and love, on the ground in Haiti, doing work we respect).
I asked Kyle and Owen what they’ll do with their half of whatever money they might make. They say that it will go into their savings (they only ever save their money — all of it — Tooth Fairy money, gift money, ALL money they accrue always goes into a one-pot-combined-K-and-O-savings no matter how much we urge them to go ahead and spend some every once in a while). When I asked what they are saving for, they have absolutely no idea whatsoever. I feel kind of weird about having half the money raised here go to K & O… but it is their idea, their painstakingly-made-bracelets for sale, and the honest truth is that I feel like I owe it to them to do this their way (not my way– which would be to have all proceeds to go Heartline). The fact is, that I blog a ton about these boys– the least I can do in return is let them sell a couple of bracelets on this blog.
So… Here’s how this is going to work!
Do you want one of these beautiful (and seriously– they are GORGEOUS) bracelets?
The bracelets will go to the highest bidder.
Leave your bid (and specify which bracelet you are going for) in the comments section here. Be sure to come back and bid again and again– Kyle and Owen will be watching in hopes that they can raise some good money here!
Information on Heartline Haiti can be found here: http://heartlineministries.org/
Postage and handling (to ship the bracelets anywhere in the world) will be paid for by us.
We’ve never done something like this before–and I’m a little nervous about this (to be honest!), but I promised K & O I’d go through with it– so here goes!
WHO WANTS A BRACELET?!?!
Bidding will end at 7:00 a.m., eastern standard time, Saturday, March 31st.
The latest from our neck of the woods…
The bambinos (all three of them) are obsessed with this song/YouTube video: Lehigh Beat Duke (click on link to check it out! if you haven’t seen it already, you really should!).
They ask to watch/listen to it on my iPad all the time, and they can be heard singing/humming/chanting it all day long. It is very catchy. I catch myself with it ringing in my head too.
Friday I took the three of them to lunch on campus. While we were riding in an elevator to the dining hall, Owen and Kyle were quietly singing/rapping together the Lehigh Beat Duke song out loud. They were not being loud or obnoxious; just sort of quietly singing it as we stood there in the elevator. An older man (who appeared to be university staff) was in the elevator with us and couldn’t help but hear what the boys were singing. He was sort of smiling to himself (it was cute). The boys kept repeating one line of the song: “Duke was my safety school,” and then — for whatever reason (you never really know with these two) — they starting in with singing/rapping: “Harvard is my safety school!” “Harvard is my safety school!” (all the while, moving to the beat and getting more and more caught up in their own little world). The man in the elevator with us could no longer contain himself, and started quietly chuckling. The boys noticed, of course, and as we were all exiting the elevator they asked me, “Mom, why is he laughing?” I said, “Well, Harvard isn’t really anyone’s safety school, because it is so hard to get into.” Owen immediately retorted, “Well, it is going to be OUR safety school!” And then they just continued on, “Beat Duke. Beat Duke. Lehigh Beat Duke!”
Too funny these two. They crack.me.up.!!!
Owen (background) & Kyle (foreground), age 12 months, on vacation in Jamaica
Thank you to all who read the post below (And You Wonder Why I Dress My Boys the Way I Do?), and to all of you who linked and left comments and emailed me regarding it. That post has quickly become the most popular post we’ve ever had on the J-M Family Blog. The viral quality of it left me feeling unexpectedly affirmed (I expected the usual onslaught of negativity that I usually get whenever I post something even slightly provocative). It is rare to feel so un-alone in this white-mama-raising-beautiful-black-boys journey. Thanks for helping me feel like I’m not the only one with these thoughts and feelings. If you haven’t read the comments on that post, you really should; the comments are probably more important than that post itself.
Tomorrow we get back to our usual routine (K & O were on school break this past week, so it was anything but the ordinary week). And we will try to get back into a rhythm and groove… but we won’t forget Trayvon Martin.
Warning: Potentially provocative post. You might not like it, but I’ve got to write it. Please proceed with caution.
In middle or upper-middle class contexts only white kids can dress “sloppy”/”crunchy”/”Boho-Chic”/”Thrift-Store-Chic”/whatever-you-want-to-call-it and get away with it. You know the look — it is hip and in style (again) right now — mis-matched, thrown-together-non-outfits, stripes-with-plaids, slightly-too-small-shirts, a-wee-bit-raggedy-around-the-edges, hand-me-downs-&-thrift-store-finds with a shabby-cool, slightly-gritty, “self-expression”-ist, “he-dresses-as-he-pleases” edge. You know — the disheveled uncombed hair, the cheap flip-flops, the random accessories that don’t quite match — there is a whole look that goes with it. It is a very popular style of dressing (both for adults and children of all ages) in many of the social circles with which I, for one, am well acquainted. But here’s the thing: Only white kids can wear that. Only white kids can do that. Black kids, especially black boys, cannot.
I should probably rephrase that: middle and upper-middle class black boys can try to pull off that look, but if they do, there will be consequences.
Middle and upper-middle class white parents who dress their kids that way are enacting a profound form of privilege that is way too often completely unrecognized.
I know about this. I’ve been silently observing this phenomenon for the past eight years, and trying my darndest to keep my mouth shut. Let me tell you something– When I dress Meera (my white daughter) like that, there are no questions asked. I can bring her anywhere, looking like a raggedy mess, and people everywhere will still smile at her and comment to me about how adorable she is. The rare times I’ve allowed Kyle and Owen out of the house looking like that have been disastrous. My black boys are met with blatantly disapproving looks, subtly stand-offish reactions, obvious lack of friendliness and politeness, and I receive comments about how “nice” it is of me to “take in these boys” (or questions about The Fresh Air Fund). Those times have been quick lessons in re-affirming what I already know: My black sons are best served by carefully scrutinizing their presentation-of-self so as to appear to the world as clean-cut, well-groomed, and polished as possible. (And believe me, having them appear that way in public, all the time, is exhausting. And expensive.)
Luckily for Kyle and Owen, I know enough about all of this to know the importance of presenting them to the world just so and teaching them how to someday do it themselves. Luckily for Kyle and Owen, I’ve had countless conversations with wise and experienced parents of black boys who have mentored me in these unfortunate Ways of the World. Black parents know that dressing children is more than just dressing children. They know firsthand that dressing children is about privilege and lack-there-of. It is about how black kids will be perceived, and received, and about how they’ll be responded to by the world.
But dressing black boys is more than that too. It is also about — quite literally — life or death. It is a way of trying to cloak our kids in cues, symbols, and markers to the world. Cues, symbols, and markers that are intended to protect them, like a suit of arms, from what we know exists. Cues, symbols, and markers that are meant to scream — no, make that ‘politely and quietly state’ — “I am not a threat”; “I am not here to scare you or hurt you or make you uneasy”; “I am a good boy from a good family.”
Not that a ‘bad’ boy from a ‘bad’ family deserves to be shot and killed — no, not at all — that is not the point. The point is this: the instinct of any parent is to attempt to do absolutely anything humanly possible to protect their child from harm’s way. Dressing our children is the simplest of things we can do.
But the scary thing is that we can dress them and primp them and teach them every trick in the book (and believe me, this is not just about clothes — we spend an unfortunate amount of time talking with Kyle and Owen about speech, body language, facial expressions, manners, etiquette, and how to choose one’s battles), to present themselves in disarming and non-threatening ways… and still… they might be gunned down in broad day light for doing nothing but walking down the sidewalk.
Yes, of course, hypothetically this could happen to any white kid too. Hypothetically. But, in reality, it just plain doesn’t. The cold hard truth is that if Trayvon was white, he would not have been killed. Period. And anyone who thinks otherwise is just fooling themselves, or worse– is in total denial about the state of affairs today.
This hyper-vigilence about presentation-of-self will become increasingly important as my boys’ independence and time away from me increases. When they are with me they are protected, at least to some extent, by my whiteness. But when they are out and about in the world without me they are just them: big black boys. And they will be perceived how that is perceived.
How can we protect our kids from this world? We can’t. The only solution is to change the world our kids are in. That is daunting (if not impossible). And change (what there is of it) is slow. In the meantime my boys will be wearing polo shirts and khakis (because that is — as slight, if any, of a help that it is — something I can do). And they’ll sometimes be wearing hoodies and jeans too (really nice ones — because that is what they want to wear, and I don’t have the heart to deny them completely). And all the while I’ll be constantly, constantly, constantly a little bit on edge with worry for them. And unless you have a black son, you have no right to judge me for any of that.
So, you wonder why I dress my boys the way I do? Well, now you know.
* * *
Please read this:
“My Twelve Year Old Knows He Could Be Trayvon”
and this:
http://unexpectedruler.blogspot.com/2012/03/sorry-toure-young-black-boys-need.html
This week is K & O’s school spring break. Braydon and I will be taking turns as we attempt to provide them with some semblance of a fun week and also keep ourselves from completely drowning in neglected work. Such is the life.
Anyway… today was an absolutely blissfully gorgeous spring day. The boys and I took Meera to school and then spent most of the day out and about before going to pick her back up. It was a fun day for us three, and it felt like luxurious lightness to have such a day, and each other, all to ourselves. Amongst other errands and activities, the highlights today were: a) playing basketball at Lehigh [we had to run to campus to pick up some papers at my office, and the boys took the opportunity to play b-ball for awhile while we were there], and b) the three of us went out to lunch at a place we’ve driven by numerous times and been wanting to try — a “sushi and hibachi buffet” [just about a dream come true for my two boys: all-you-can-eat Asian-themed food]. There were over 200 items on the buffet and K & O probably sampled at least 100 of them. Not even kidding. Watching them enjoy that lunch was an experience I won’t forget for a long, long time! [And neither will the restaurant… they are surely questioning their rationale for charging only $4.95 for kids under age 10!!! The entire bill came to $19, including tip, and Owen alone probably ate at least $20 worth of dumplings!]
But throughout it all (the incredible weather, the fun company I had for errand-running, and the very enjoyable lunch), my mind was struggling to not be distracted by the dark cloud that has been looming these past couple of days for me. No matter how hard I try to shake it, this article is just really doing a number on my Mama-psyche… read it and weep my friends:
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/03/17/opinion/blow-the-curious-case-of-trayvon-martin.html?_r=3
“That is the burden of black boys in America and the people that love them.”
GO LEHIGH!
All three bambinos got to stay up late tonight to watch Lehigh vs. Duke in the NCAA Basketball Tournament. Talk about March madness. Holy Moly. Not sure that they fully appreciate the historic, epic proportions of the awesome game they saw played, but Kyle and Owen get it enough to know it was a BIG WIN. They fell asleep smiling. (Literally.)
K & O have been following Lehigh basketball their whole lives (they first fell in love with it via Zahir, who is still to this day their #1 basketball idol of all time). Meera mainly colored while her brothers jumped up and down like little maniacs, pounding their fists in the air, and screaming their lungs out at the television. We’ve gone to a whole bunch of the Lehigh games this season (where K & O are some of the loudest fans in the arena), K & O went to Lehigh’s basketball camp this past summer (where they got to know many of the players and coaches pretty well), and I have one of Lehigh’s biggest star players in a course that I’m teaching this semester (where I get to see a whole other side of things, far off of the court). All of this has led to the fact that over the past few months we’ve developed a real relationship with a couple of the key hot-shot players. It is pretty wild to then be sitting in our family room on a Friday night watching our guys play on CBS during primetime.
At the end of the game, when it was clear that Lehigh was going to win, I had chills and got tears in my eyes. I know some of these guys in a way that few do (as a professor, teaching the sorts of subjects I do, I often see a vulnerable part of students that is rarely seen elsewhere). I watched as my boys (K & O) overflowed with true joy as they watched my boys (#11 & #3). I thought of Zahir, and I thought of other awesome guys from the past ten years who played basketball at Lehigh while also taking my courses. My boys. Tall, strong, quick-as-a-flash, basketball star black athletes who are also smart-as-a-whip, intellectually curious, deeply driven, successful black students/people.
There is so much to this for me. And somehow, as I watch my boys watch it, I can see how it all fits together. Sometimes people really do come from behind, suspend all disbelief, and do mind-bogglingly amazing things. Not without the help of others, no. But sometimes it really does happen — there are big upsets and epic wins and most everyone is proven wrong. I’m talking here, of course, about my boys and about my boys.
Before Braydon and I had kids we were entertaining constantly. And I do mean constantly. It was rare for a week to go by that we didn’t have friends over for at least one dinner. And many weeks we’d have company over several nights of the week. We (especially I) loved doing that. I loved having a home where people were always coming and going, drinks always being poured, food always being feasted upon. It all came to a screeching halt, however, when we brought Kyle and Owen home.
We knew that the first six months as a family we would hunker down and close up shop where all-things-entertaining ware concerned. But we presumed that once we got settled in we’d fling the doors back open again. I imagined us entertaining in the same way that we had pre-kids, only now it would be more fun with two baby boys bouncing around. Well, no. No, no, no, no, no. It did not go like that. We quickly realized that it was basically impossible for us to have anyone over for dinner. #1) I could no longer set aside the chunks of time necessary to plan, prep, shop, and cook for dinner parties, #2) we, literally, could not sit down for more than 10 minutes –to eat or otherwise– with Kyle and Owen in the mix, and #3) we could never really count on when our lovely little babies would actually go to sleep [bedtime has always been… shall we say… challenging]. Dinner parties were completely out of the picture. Period. We dabbled with inviting people over for lunch. But the same issues were there, plus… the napping… we could never be sure how long they would (or would not) nap. Pretty quickly we came to discover that entertaining was no longer going to fit into our newfound lifestyle.
We grieved that for a long time. Still do, at times. Seriously– it was hard for us to give that up. Feeding people in our home had always been our way of connecting. Taking it out of the equation had huge ramifications for our social lives. Over the years we would sometimes try to host meals with friends in our home. It was usually a disaster, and always more stress than it was worth. It was sad.
We went like that for a long, long time. And then, about a year ago, we discovered a new form of entertaining that — as it turns out — really works for us! Brunch!
Over the past year we’ve been inviting many of our friends over for brunch. Always a Saturday or Sunday, always around 10am-1pm, and I always pre-warn them: “this is going to be a simple, casual, family-friendly brunch of bagels and fruit!” This sets their expectations so that they are not imagining fresh-off-the-skillet-pancakes, omelettes-cooked-to-order, roast-carving-stations, or anything resembling a traditional “brunch” that you’d get if you were to go out to a nice place. The goal here, for us, has been to keep it simple and easy (this, my friends, is always my challenge as I tend to go overboard with just about everything and have a serious problem with limiting my scope).
Here is why our Brunches With Friends work for us:
- Everything can be prepared in advance (so that we can focus on our friends, and trouble-shoot our kids, not worry about food/drink during the actual brunch-time).
- Most everything can be store-bought so that putting it together is super easy.
- The whole thing takes only 2 hours (absolute max!) the morning-of to prepare and set up, and then 1 hour (absolute max!) to clean up.
- Most kids (ours and our friends) have already eaten some sort of breakfast, so brunch is just sort of “extra” (which is nice, since it is often hard to get kids to eat, at all, when there are friends to be played with).
- Most parents (us and our friends) appreciate a mimosa on a weekend morning. Note: that is an understatement… most parents LOVE a mimosa on a weekend morning.
We always have mimosa-makings, bubbly water, ice, and champagne glasses out for everyone. I am a true believer in not letting the fancy glassware sit on the shelf, and have no problem (truly) when these things are broken by raucous kids. The kids love having a fancy glass, and they like making their own “mimosa” mixing Pelligrino and OJ. But since people are making their own, they can make it as strong or as weak as they like, they can have straight up OJ, or straight up Pelligrino… whatever they want. And it works. I sometimes also put out organic chocolate milk boxes (the ones like juice boxes) for the kids in addition to the mimosa-makings.
And the “Brunch Menu” is always basically the same– just variations on a theme:
- Bagels with fixings (various cream cheeses and lox for a “breakfast bagel” & various sandwich makings for a “lunch bagel”), all sitting by the toaster so that people can make their own however they like.
- Fruit (either simply out for the taking, in a bowl as fruit salad, or on a platter as fruit kabobs…depending on how industrious I’m feeling).
- Veggies, potato chips, and dip (the chips and dip are always the huge hit. for kids and grown-ups alike. always. always. always. everyone loves chips and dip and it makes it feel like a real party).
For dessert I plate up some fancy store-bought treats, or –if we are feeling up for a fire in the fireplace, or a campfire outside — I put together the fixings for s’mores. I’ll also often make hot chocolate in advance, and store it in a good thermos to keep warm. And there is always coffee or tea for the grown ups.
The best part about brunch is that even after everyone has left, and the house is entirely cleaned up, and the dishwasher is running, we still have a nice big portion of our day still before us. There is time for Meera to take a nap, or for the boys to watch a movie, or for us all to chillax and enjoy the rest of our “S-Day” (Saturday and Sunday have always been called “S-Days” by Kyle and Owen).
Brunch with Friends! The J-Ms give it ten thumbs up!
…they are starting to slow down.
Not very often, mind you. And not for long. That’s for sure. But every once in a while, with no transparent pattern, rhyme, or reason as to when or why…
They take a little break from running/jumping/climbing, pedaling/digging/swinging/sliding, pushing/pulling/tackling, throwing/catching/kicking/hitting/slam-dunking… and sit.
And when they do…
It is a beautiful thing to see.
(top: Owen engrossed in crayon and watercolor / bottom: Kyle reads Ruby Bridges)
The daffodils are blooming here, and tonight we ate dinner outside on the deck for the first time this year. The seasons are shifting. You can feel it in the air, and all around. Times are changing. I see it mostly in Meera. Our Little Miss Diva. She is evolving right before our eyes, becoming a Big Girl, no longer a toddler. This metamorphosis is clear in the way she talks, in the way she holds her body, her steadily increasing independence, and in her slow-move-toward-no-napping. But It is most obvious — interestingly enough, as it has always been with Meera — in her tastes and preferences for the way she presents herself. Specifically, in how she dresses. Her clothes, shoes, and accessories have always been incredibly important to Meera. Since she was a baby she’s been expressing herself this way. And while I don’t want her to place too much value in these things (especially as they relate to her own self-worth), I appreciate her willful insistence on adorning herself the way she wants to be adorned.
Meera is now, and has forever been, a Fashionista with a capital “F.” She comes from a long line of women who have exquisite taste in clothes (my Nana in heaven is surely beaming at the sight of her great-granddaughter’s attire, and my own mother is quite the fashionista herself). As for me– I will be the first to admit that I am thoroughly enjoying ‘Dressing Meera.’ This is one of the most fun indulgences of having a little girl. I like helping Meera to look the way she wants to look. And I especially love seeing her self-confidence and self-love as she walks through the world feeling like the smart, beautiful, strong-willed girl that she is.
Meera’s fashion sense is evolving, but is fundamentally the same as it has always been. It is still about ‘Fancy,’ but it is becoming a more sophisticated look as opposed to a girlie-girlie cutsie look. Her favorite color is still pink, but she rarely insists on it anymore, and is very open to a broad spectrum of color. Meera still prefers dresses and skirts to pants, but she will wear pants. She still, however, refuses to wear jeans. She will almost never agree to wear sneakers. She will often be sure to wear a necklace, bracelet, or ring to school. And she has specific ideas about how she wants her hair done each day. Interestingly enough, Meera is the only kid in her class who dresses so ‘formally’ for school. While the other girls and boys wear sweatpants and velcro sneakers, Meera wears a full scale “outfit” (as she calls it) to daycare each and every day.
Over the past month I’ve tried to take a picture of Meera each morning before she goes to school. I forgot some days, but I captured most. I hope someday, when Meera is feeling those feelings of self-doubt and insecurity creep in (those feelings that all of us girls, unfortunately, eventually have to battle), that she’ll maybe catch a glimpse of this post and be reminded of the smart, beautiful, strong-willed girl that she is and always has been.
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