It's Stitch's Spring Break this week. He's been lounging at home, trainspotting with Dad, and went to work with Dad today. I got a call towards the end of the day with a status report. Dad told me he did fine, that he was with The Sitter and about to head to class.
"He says he hates lessons," said Dad.
"I know."
"He told everyone he likes skating, just not lessons."
I rubbed my head. "Yeah. I know."
"They asked him if he would remember them if he went to the Olympics."
"What did he say?"
"He didn't really say. But then they asked him if he would let me hang his medal in the booth."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. He said 'If I'm not going to give him my stupid second place trophy, I'm definitely not giving him my gold medal.'"
"He didn't."
"Something like that. I like how he just assumed gold."
"Uh huh."
The Stupid Second Place Trophy. According to Stitch, this trophy is stupid because it doesn't have his name on it. At both of the other comps, there were engravers on hand. Not the Bad Mojo Comp. So Bad Mojo Comp gypped him on the Boy's Goody Bags (a bag of pretzels and a bottle of water), gave him the apparent horror of second place, and to add insult to injury, they did not give me the chance to have his name engraved on the trophy. This Trophy is now forever known as The Stupid Second Place Trophy.
While Stitch claims to hate lessons, he will use elements, moves and bits he picks up from his time in Group Lessons and with Coach. After a few dozen times running into little kids and having Coach fuss, he is finally starting to look over his shoulder on back crossovers. Gordon and Stitch have turned Shoot the Duck into Who Can Fall Down the Most, yet he tries them much more than he used to. They are no longer his "Arch Enemy." (Direct Quote.)
Dad says he spent the day, whining and moaning that "Mom is wasting all my spring break" with my insistence he do math drills, read a book every day, and continue skating. He says Stitch claimed to hate Wednesday the most. I fully expected to pick up a whiny, tired and nearly intolerable child this evening.
Nope. Stitch was gleefully skating, was upset only a bit at the "surprise" evaluation (I forgot to tell him), and was laughing and playing with Gordon after it was done. He did really well, a lot of 5's and a few 4's. I told him he did good, while another mom was talking Salchows and Axels, how the Coaches flunk all the kids on purpose during mid-session evaluations, and something else about "getting all the rotations in." Ms V was asking me to translate the scores into school marks of A, B, C and so on. I said that 10 was A+, 5 was a C (passable average) and take it from there. Was this right? Probably not, but maybe she'll learn not to ask me this stuff. As it was, she began fretting because there were "D's" on his "report card."
Stitch was talkative, joking, happy and playful on the way home. This didn't seem like the same kid who was complaining loudly about being "forced" to do lessons earlier. This was the kid who was saying he would tell Coach that I was forbidding him to learn Death Drops. "I'll just have to tell Coach to teach me!" he was laughing at me. This was the kid who said, "I'll just have to learn how," after watching Plushenko do some weird backwards skip thing on the Youtubes. (And he tried that night, nearly succeeding.)
I believe this is part of Pushy Parenting. Any other adult in hearing range would hear Stitch complain and probably think I should pull him from skating. Yet I see him skate, and I know why he's complaining. He's complaining because it's hard. I just remind him that what was once hard is now easy, and the things that are hard now will eventually become easy if he continues to practice. Push him through the rough spots, the hard places, and watch him forget about the trouble when it becomes easy.
For now, Stitch and I are looking forward to TWO WHOLE DAYS of sleeping in, as Coach is out of town. Spring Break, indeed!
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Monday, April 4, 2011
A Word on Crystal
Confession: I was a Raccoon in a former life. There is simply no other explanation for the large trunk in my room, full to bursting with shiny rocks, bits of glass, and yes, Crystal. I have high taste in glitter, going only for ultrafine, holographic print or hexagonal cut. I can inspect different trims for hours. Anything shiny attracts my attention, and this includes figure skating costumes.
That having been said, I think there are good and bad ways to put sparkle on a skater's outfit. I think there's economical ways to go about it, and there's a definite art to it.
First off, I don't think lower level skaters (this includes Stitch) should be going whole hog on the crystal. I'm saving my crystal workings for Stitch for when he's at least in the Freeskate levels, and even then, I'll keep it low key. (And unfortunately those marguerite flowers I've been squirreling away probably won't work on a boy's outfit.)
Higher level skaters? I think they've earned enough bruising and scarring and hours in the rink to wear whatever they damn well please. I got asked to make a vest, so I sketched out a nice scrollwork pattern with leaves and birds, nice fall colors. He approved it, and so I'll get going once the beads arrive. (Only needed to order three colors...) There's only two colors of crystal, they aren't big ones, and there aren't too many in comparison to the rest of the materials.
Swarovski isn't really crystal at all. It's simply leaded glass. The misnomer "crystal" is kept purely for commercial reasons. When you buy it, you're paying for the name, and the name is the cut. Swarovski was a Czech glasscutter who figured out that by making incredibly precise facets, he could really enhance refractive index of the leaded glass he was working with. Refractive Index is Sparkle factor, and Leaded Glass has a lot of it. (As much as Sapphire.) More than that, it's got a really high dispersion index, and that's what gives you the prism effect. You can buy cheap Chinese crystal and still be getting leaded glass, but it's the amount of lead content that determines the Sparkle factor, this can vary in Cheap Chinese crystal, and the cuts won't be as clean. Best way to tell? Take a loupe to it.
Crystal works in ice skating costumes because of the Crap Lighting situation. Next time you're in the rink, look up. What you'll find is a bunch of floodlights, typically of a mercury vapor or some other arc source that's generating an ugly, cold, harsh and noisy light. There's no direction to it, no warmth, no soul. Glitter, sequins, and other sparkly things like that don't work well with an undirected source. Sure, toss a spotlight on them and *blammo!* they look amazing. Not so much with cold floodlights.
But Crystal, with all her facets and high RI, can take that crap light from wherever it comes from, break it down into it component colors and shoot it back out to the audience in a way sequins could never do. In short, they are the fastest, dirtiest way to get high shine with crap lights. Just glue and go. (But it's not perfect. Put that same crystal in sunlight and the effect is vastly improved over crap stadium lights.)
It's also the most expensive. Even at a few cents per 4mm piece, this adds up fast when you realize how many 4mm bits it's going to take to scroll out a single leaf. The bigger the mm, the more you will pay. On other blogs, I read in horror of people boasting about buying crystal by the gross. 144 pieces really isn't a lot.
Let's take a recent example of Too Much Crystal. Think back to Nationals, and I was tweeting about the dude, "SparkuhlSnakes?" Yeah, this guy (can't find an image) had two crystal snakes wrapped around his collar and down his chest. It was okay, but it could have been better. Done just in crystal, it was just pointless pointillism. Snakes aren't points, they are all scales and movement.
Let's look at someone else. Take Yu-Na's James Bond dress. Pretty sparkly stuff, and it moved with her. It wasn't sparkle for sparkle's sake, there was some thought put into it. Did you notice that the seeming scatter flowed down into tumbling squares? The geometrics flowed through the outfit, from the cut up the thigh to the triangles on her back. Best, it didn't overpower her or her program.
You can get sparkle without crystal, and you can do it in a way that may create much more visual interest, color, movement and pattern than just dots of glass. But it takes work. I've done this with jewelry, now I'm curious to see if I can pull it off on a really big applique. AB Coats, faceted seed beads, two color and silver-lined, and yes, some crystal in strategic places. I'll keep you readers informed of my progress, and my rink friends are bound to catch me in the act. I anticipate at least eight weeks. But Beading sure beats knitting as a Momtivity in the stands!
That having been said, I think there are good and bad ways to put sparkle on a skater's outfit. I think there's economical ways to go about it, and there's a definite art to it.
First off, I don't think lower level skaters (this includes Stitch) should be going whole hog on the crystal. I'm saving my crystal workings for Stitch for when he's at least in the Freeskate levels, and even then, I'll keep it low key. (And unfortunately those marguerite flowers I've been squirreling away probably won't work on a boy's outfit.)
Higher level skaters? I think they've earned enough bruising and scarring and hours in the rink to wear whatever they damn well please. I got asked to make a vest, so I sketched out a nice scrollwork pattern with leaves and birds, nice fall colors. He approved it, and so I'll get going once the beads arrive. (Only needed to order three colors...) There's only two colors of crystal, they aren't big ones, and there aren't too many in comparison to the rest of the materials.
Swarovski isn't really crystal at all. It's simply leaded glass. The misnomer "crystal" is kept purely for commercial reasons. When you buy it, you're paying for the name, and the name is the cut. Swarovski was a Czech glasscutter who figured out that by making incredibly precise facets, he could really enhance refractive index of the leaded glass he was working with. Refractive Index is Sparkle factor, and Leaded Glass has a lot of it. (As much as Sapphire.) More than that, it's got a really high dispersion index, and that's what gives you the prism effect. You can buy cheap Chinese crystal and still be getting leaded glass, but it's the amount of lead content that determines the Sparkle factor, this can vary in Cheap Chinese crystal, and the cuts won't be as clean. Best way to tell? Take a loupe to it.
Crystal works in ice skating costumes because of the Crap Lighting situation. Next time you're in the rink, look up. What you'll find is a bunch of floodlights, typically of a mercury vapor or some other arc source that's generating an ugly, cold, harsh and noisy light. There's no direction to it, no warmth, no soul. Glitter, sequins, and other sparkly things like that don't work well with an undirected source. Sure, toss a spotlight on them and *blammo!* they look amazing. Not so much with cold floodlights.
But Crystal, with all her facets and high RI, can take that crap light from wherever it comes from, break it down into it component colors and shoot it back out to the audience in a way sequins could never do. In short, they are the fastest, dirtiest way to get high shine with crap lights. Just glue and go. (But it's not perfect. Put that same crystal in sunlight and the effect is vastly improved over crap stadium lights.)
It's also the most expensive. Even at a few cents per 4mm piece, this adds up fast when you realize how many 4mm bits it's going to take to scroll out a single leaf. The bigger the mm, the more you will pay. On other blogs, I read in horror of people boasting about buying crystal by the gross. 144 pieces really isn't a lot.
This is 144 4mm Bicones, Crystal AB Coat. Not even a handful.
Let's take a recent example of Too Much Crystal. Think back to Nationals, and I was tweeting about the dude, "SparkuhlSnakes?" Yeah, this guy (can't find an image) had two crystal snakes wrapped around his collar and down his chest. It was okay, but it could have been better. Done just in crystal, it was just pointless pointillism. Snakes aren't points, they are all scales and movement.
Let's look at someone else. Take Yu-Na's James Bond dress. Pretty sparkly stuff, and it moved with her. It wasn't sparkle for sparkle's sake, there was some thought put into it. Did you notice that the seeming scatter flowed down into tumbling squares? The geometrics flowed through the outfit, from the cut up the thigh to the triangles on her back. Best, it didn't overpower her or her program.
You can get sparkle without crystal, and you can do it in a way that may create much more visual interest, color, movement and pattern than just dots of glass. But it takes work. I've done this with jewelry, now I'm curious to see if I can pull it off on a really big applique. AB Coats, faceted seed beads, two color and silver-lined, and yes, some crystal in strategic places. I'll keep you readers informed of my progress, and my rink friends are bound to catch me in the act. I anticipate at least eight weeks. But Beading sure beats knitting as a Momtivity in the stands!
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Sometimes I can't stand your kid.
As a whole, I like kids. I think they're fun and cute and hilarious to listen to when they get going. When they're kept pure, and I don't mean innocent, but pure in the sense that they aren't pumped up with weird notions of their weird parents, they are our best reflection of the job we do as adults. Last night I watched Stitch and Sweetheart skate and dance, and I listened to her tell me about her lost tooth for a good ten minutes. I played with Stitch's other friends and had some fun. I refer to Other People's Kids as OPK's.
But there are some kids I don't like. I keep my thoughts to myself and I'm as polite as I can be to them and their parents, but deep down I'm thinking, "Oh, god, please stop talking before I say something horrible."
Yesterday there was one OPK in particular I wanted to nail with a blade guard. He was doing his normal flopping on the ice, mouthing off to the coaches, and while I couldn't really see any difference in his skating, apparently he learned a Salchow. The kids came tearing out of the rink, and OPK was running up to everyone and anyone saying, "I learned a Salchow! Can you do a Salchow? Wow! A Salchow!"
Okay. Little figure skating boys are kinda gawky. Point blank. They just don't have the same elegance you see from girls of the same age. So, this little gawky kid, running up to a girl in her Chloe Noel best on her Crystalled Zuca, trying to brag about something she probably learned three years ago, just doesn't work out. The girls kind of looked at each other and largely blew him off. Good for them. I managed to keep us hidden in plain sight, keeping Stitch in his books and writing exercises.
But it couldn't last. Eventually Stitch had to get back in skates and heading out for group class, where OPK caught him. "Hey! Stitch! I learned a Salchow today! What level are you? Can you do a Salchow?"
Stitch has grown weary of this. OPK has consistently badgered Stitch about the quality of his crossovers, stating that "Judges won't give you any points for that!" and other strange comments about BS Comps. So, he ignores OPK. Just, walks by. I move to the stands, trying to avoid OPK. This doesn't work. "Hey! Stitch's mom! What level is Stitch!?"
"He's Pre Freestyle. I've told you this before."
"I'm freestyle one!"
"I know. You've told me three times already."
"I learned a Salchow today! Can Stitch do a Salchow?"
"Not if he's in pre-free. You should know that."
"Salchows are easy!"
"Is that what you were doing in the studio?"
"Yeah!"
"Looked like a Sowplow to me."
"What?"
"Your class is starting. Go warm up."
I walked away. I don't know if OPK heard me or not, but god that was just so annoying. This kid is really starting to bug the shit out of me.
Two weeks ago he was pestering Stitch, "Can you do a lunge? I can do a lunge!"
Stitch was clearly irritated. "Yes, I can do a lunge."
"Do you think they're hard?"
"Yes, they are hard."
"You think they're hard? I think they're easy! Fab Skater, do you think lunges are hard?"
Fab Skater makes a great answer. "To some people they're hard, to some they're easy. It doesn't matter."
OPK is undeterred, and now has Fab Skater's attention. "Do you think a triple axel is hard?"
"Uh, yes," she gives him a weird look.
"That's where you have to go around three times!" he's all excited.
"I think it's actually three and a half," I comment, seeing an opening.
"Three and a half times around? That sounds easy!" OPK is just making this too simple for me.
"Oh, so you'll be doing that next week?" I ask.
"No!"
Stitch laughs and I laugh, and we leave quickly.
"Why was he asking me all that?" Stitch asks me in the car.
"I don't know. Don't worry about it."
Fortunately we only see OPK twice a week now. And if OPK stays at a higher level then I won't have to worry about Stitch competing against him any time soon. That's all I need; the stress of a competition AND OPK's ongoing stupid "better-than-you" commentary. But hey, if OPK competes and Sowplows in his moonboots, that will make me giggle for weeks.
But there are some kids I don't like. I keep my thoughts to myself and I'm as polite as I can be to them and their parents, but deep down I'm thinking, "Oh, god, please stop talking before I say something horrible."
Yesterday there was one OPK in particular I wanted to nail with a blade guard. He was doing his normal flopping on the ice, mouthing off to the coaches, and while I couldn't really see any difference in his skating, apparently he learned a Salchow. The kids came tearing out of the rink, and OPK was running up to everyone and anyone saying, "I learned a Salchow! Can you do a Salchow? Wow! A Salchow!"
Okay. Little figure skating boys are kinda gawky. Point blank. They just don't have the same elegance you see from girls of the same age. So, this little gawky kid, running up to a girl in her Chloe Noel best on her Crystalled Zuca, trying to brag about something she probably learned three years ago, just doesn't work out. The girls kind of looked at each other and largely blew him off. Good for them. I managed to keep us hidden in plain sight, keeping Stitch in his books and writing exercises.
But it couldn't last. Eventually Stitch had to get back in skates and heading out for group class, where OPK caught him. "Hey! Stitch! I learned a Salchow today! What level are you? Can you do a Salchow?"
Stitch has grown weary of this. OPK has consistently badgered Stitch about the quality of his crossovers, stating that "Judges won't give you any points for that!" and other strange comments about BS Comps. So, he ignores OPK. Just, walks by. I move to the stands, trying to avoid OPK. This doesn't work. "Hey! Stitch's mom! What level is Stitch!?"
"He's Pre Freestyle. I've told you this before."
"I'm freestyle one!"
"I know. You've told me three times already."
"I learned a Salchow today! Can Stitch do a Salchow?"
"Not if he's in pre-free. You should know that."
"Salchows are easy!"
"Is that what you were doing in the studio?"
"Yeah!"
"Looked like a Sowplow to me."
"What?"
"Your class is starting. Go warm up."
I walked away. I don't know if OPK heard me or not, but god that was just so annoying. This kid is really starting to bug the shit out of me.
Two weeks ago he was pestering Stitch, "Can you do a lunge? I can do a lunge!"
Stitch was clearly irritated. "Yes, I can do a lunge."
"Do you think they're hard?"
"Yes, they are hard."
"You think they're hard? I think they're easy! Fab Skater, do you think lunges are hard?"
Fab Skater makes a great answer. "To some people they're hard, to some they're easy. It doesn't matter."
OPK is undeterred, and now has Fab Skater's attention. "Do you think a triple axel is hard?"
"Uh, yes," she gives him a weird look.
"That's where you have to go around three times!" he's all excited.
"I think it's actually three and a half," I comment, seeing an opening.
"Three and a half times around? That sounds easy!" OPK is just making this too simple for me.
"Oh, so you'll be doing that next week?" I ask.
"No!"
Stitch laughs and I laugh, and we leave quickly.
"Why was he asking me all that?" Stitch asks me in the car.
"I don't know. Don't worry about it."
Fortunately we only see OPK twice a week now. And if OPK stays at a higher level then I won't have to worry about Stitch competing against him any time soon. That's all I need; the stress of a competition AND OPK's ongoing stupid "better-than-you" commentary. But hey, if OPK competes and Sowplows in his moonboots, that will make me giggle for weeks.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Odd Place for Skating Supplies
Stitch had privates this morning, same as always, but again he looked off his game. A bit unsteady, unsure. I was talking with another mom, but glancing in on them every so often. Two weekends in a row, this was strange.
He came off the ice and ran to watch the vending machine being refilled. I wound up my conversation and went to fetch him. As he walked back with me, his feet made an uncharacteristic *thump*click*thump*click*thump* pattern. Thump, click? What's that click? "Stitch, sit down. Let me see that skate."
I wiggled the blade, and the blade wiggled back. The heel plate was loose. "That explains it. Has your skate felt funny?"
"Sort of."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
He shrugged.
I borrowed a screwdriver from the maintenance fellow, but half the skating parents dove into their bags for their own screwdrivers for me to use. "I thought I heard his blade was loose," commented one.
"So you guys just have one?" I asked, referring to a screwdriver.
"Oh yeah, blades come loose all the time," said one mom.
"I guess I need a screwdriver."
"You will," a dad nodded.
I screwed the heel plate down tight, and tightened the rest of the screws which were all loose by a half turn or more. Stitch and I hung out, I made him do writing and spelling, "speed" drilled him on singles addition, and then it was time for group lessons. I missed Rink Across Town.
With the blade fixed, Stitch was back on his game. Everything looked better, but it was very nice to see him smile again. His jumping was much more confident, and spinning lasting longer. He came off the ice, happy.
"So, does it skate better now?"
"Oh yes."
"I can't believe that came loose. How does that happen?"
"Maybe it's because I'm doing real stuff now."
"Whatever."
Mystery solved, I packed him up and we headed down the road for lunch and our very own screwdriver. Stitch smelled the flowers at the hardware store, and I stayed away because of my Brown Thumb. We priced out concrete and gravel for my upcoming summer project, with Stitch getting excited about the prospect of using a trowel. And of course, I bought a small screwdriver. Who knew? The waitresses at the lunch counter "accidentally" made him the adult sized shake, but I have a feeling it was because of the cute way he asked for extra pickles on his sandwich.
Then we were back to Home Rink for (dun dun, duhhhn) Ice Show Rehearsal. Yes, Stitch and one other lone boy circled the big rink for what seemed like ages as I waited to hear and see just what silliness they were going to put the boys through. At first I thought it might a construction worker thing, but then coaches played the theme song to a local football team. A not-so-great local football team. Okay, so we have two boys, one of whom does not play team sports at all, both on skates, tossing a ball around and pretending to do a Football drill. Yes, this is awesome, yet I worry about the boys being the brunt of a joke. And how ironic, my reading of boys and sports and masculinity and ice skating, to be doing this of all things. Fortunately the program is loose enough so that boys can do what they do, and Stitch gets to do a lunge and a Waltz Jump for it. This is fine, and I can work on throwing and catching on the playground. Stitch says he likes it, and he's now humming that interminable song endlessly while he "cleans" his room.
We're back again tonight, to play with Stitch's friends who need the practice for crossovers and backwards stroking. I'm trying to think of some games to get them to play, maybe I can trick them into practicing for a change. If anyone has any ideas, I'm all ears.
He came off the ice and ran to watch the vending machine being refilled. I wound up my conversation and went to fetch him. As he walked back with me, his feet made an uncharacteristic *thump*click*thump*click*thump* pattern. Thump, click? What's that click? "Stitch, sit down. Let me see that skate."
I wiggled the blade, and the blade wiggled back. The heel plate was loose. "That explains it. Has your skate felt funny?"
"Sort of."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
He shrugged.
I borrowed a screwdriver from the maintenance fellow, but half the skating parents dove into their bags for their own screwdrivers for me to use. "I thought I heard his blade was loose," commented one.
"So you guys just have one?" I asked, referring to a screwdriver.
"Oh yeah, blades come loose all the time," said one mom.
"I guess I need a screwdriver."
"You will," a dad nodded.
I screwed the heel plate down tight, and tightened the rest of the screws which were all loose by a half turn or more. Stitch and I hung out, I made him do writing and spelling, "speed" drilled him on singles addition, and then it was time for group lessons. I missed Rink Across Town.
With the blade fixed, Stitch was back on his game. Everything looked better, but it was very nice to see him smile again. His jumping was much more confident, and spinning lasting longer. He came off the ice, happy.
"So, does it skate better now?"
"Oh yes."
"I can't believe that came loose. How does that happen?"
"Maybe it's because I'm doing real stuff now."
"Whatever."
Mystery solved, I packed him up and we headed down the road for lunch and our very own screwdriver. Stitch smelled the flowers at the hardware store, and I stayed away because of my Brown Thumb. We priced out concrete and gravel for my upcoming summer project, with Stitch getting excited about the prospect of using a trowel. And of course, I bought a small screwdriver. Who knew? The waitresses at the lunch counter "accidentally" made him the adult sized shake, but I have a feeling it was because of the cute way he asked for extra pickles on his sandwich.
Then we were back to Home Rink for (dun dun, duhhhn) Ice Show Rehearsal. Yes, Stitch and one other lone boy circled the big rink for what seemed like ages as I waited to hear and see just what silliness they were going to put the boys through. At first I thought it might a construction worker thing, but then coaches played the theme song to a local football team. A not-so-great local football team. Okay, so we have two boys, one of whom does not play team sports at all, both on skates, tossing a ball around and pretending to do a Football drill. Yes, this is awesome, yet I worry about the boys being the brunt of a joke. And how ironic, my reading of boys and sports and masculinity and ice skating, to be doing this of all things. Fortunately the program is loose enough so that boys can do what they do, and Stitch gets to do a lunge and a Waltz Jump for it. This is fine, and I can work on throwing and catching on the playground. Stitch says he likes it, and he's now humming that interminable song endlessly while he "cleans" his room.
We're back again tonight, to play with Stitch's friends who need the practice for crossovers and backwards stroking. I'm trying to think of some games to get them to play, maybe I can trick them into practicing for a change. If anyone has any ideas, I'm all ears.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Book Review; Packaging Boyhood
I just got done with this one. Being the mom of a boy, I spend a good amount of time reading and trying to figure out just what the heck I'm supposed to be doing with this kid.
I think we're all well aware of the Cultural Wasteland's effective hyper-genderization of childhood. This book is a companion to "Packaging Girlhood," which examines how the culture steers girls to be little bitches who shop a lot. The "Boyhood" version explores the clothes, books, movies, music and games that steer boys to being tough, unfeeling, super hetero examples of machismo that few boys can live up to, so they can revert to Slacker mode where nothing is expected of them. Most people are aware of the violent video games, the "music", the heavily advertised media world they wander in, the excessive fart and poop jokes that everyone assumes boys like, and so on. What this book doesn't do is advocate shielding a child from it. Instead, it encourages a "Reality Based" parenting model, which acknowledges the existence of this media and tells parents to use it to start dialogues on what boys really do and how they feel about all this subtle messaging. We should teach our kids to be smart consumers of media, not passive slugs eating everything at the buffet of media lunacy.
This is pretty close to what I've been doing with Stitch. When he came home asking me what a collection of profanity and obscene gestures was all about, I honestly told him. Watching toy advertisements, I point out that there's special lighting and camera tricks to make things seem more exciting than they really are. (It helps that we can get him up close and personal with these special effects.) While I do make some effort to limit what Stitch is exposed to, I don't go out of my way to ensure he doesn't see certain things. I won't take him to an R-Rated movie, but I will explain the trailer of one if we happen to get stuck with it while waiting for "Happy Feet" to start.
Figure Skating did get a mention in this book; "Blades of Glory" was offered as an example of the ridiculousness and ridicule of men who dare to step outside of the accepted male model. Don't get excited, that was pretty much it. But it was true. Figure Skating in this culture is not a male activity. Period. While running spots for Ice Show, I overheard a father say to his son, "They play hockey, that's how they can skate like that," referring to the male soloists doing doubles and spins. Little boys who dare to Figure Skate and not play Hockey, like Stitch, get some eyerolls and funny looks from the other Moms and Dads who are buying into our hyper-gendered culture. This is kinda sad, and sometimes I wonder what would happen if I intimated that their daughter was a lesbian because she played hockey and didn't figure skate. (I haven't done it. Yet.)
This book also took on the "F" word. "F" as in "Faggot." I have a coworker who made the comment of "fagure skating" to me once. I laughed and asked him why he said that. "Because they're all gay," he replied casually. So? Who cares? This book takes on "faggot" as the slur that it is, and that it needs to be removed from the cultural vernacular to describe anything that is ultra feminine, froufy or just plain "not hyper male."
It's sad that the Culture children grow up in does so much to shortchange boys of their potential, and this book offers up a lot of ways to counteract that. It's not easy; it involves a lot of talking, a lot of honesty and a hell of a lot of time. It involves taking your child as he is, not as what others project him to be. Stitch has defied convention for a long time, but he's never realized it. In Pre-School he was the lone Dragon among three identical Transformers. (Did anyone wonder why a PreSchooler was dressing as a character from a movie they shouldn't be seeing?) At the craft store he gets mad that all craft kits are geared towards girls. We just don't buy the kits and he enjoys making things all the same. He's passed over the "My Weird School" series for "Junie B Jones," which features a girl as lead. He loves his trains, but the Hot Wheels got played with maybe once or twice, and the Spiderman stuff got dusty really fast. (Did anyone ask why toys for 5 year olds come from an R rated movie?) People ask me what he's "into" so they can buy birthday and holiday gifts, and I don't have a pat answer like "Superman" or "Batman" or "Cars." I have to get creative to match his ever widening and expansive interests, and this makes the relations crazy. I once sent my mom on a scavenger hunt to find the elusive "Owly" comic series. (I HIGHLY recommend this series for young children, it is THE BOMB. Even for non-readers, GET IT!)((Edit, Owly Link, Free Comics!! But buy Andy's books because Andy is awesome... http://www.andyrunton.com/owly/ )
Every child is unique, and Popular Culture is going to try and fit them into a stupid box. This book offers up some great strategies to help you and your kids avoid that box and stay special. I got my copy at the library, but I imagine Amazon's got it, too.
I think we're all well aware of the Cultural Wasteland's effective hyper-genderization of childhood. This book is a companion to "Packaging Girlhood," which examines how the culture steers girls to be little bitches who shop a lot. The "Boyhood" version explores the clothes, books, movies, music and games that steer boys to being tough, unfeeling, super hetero examples of machismo that few boys can live up to, so they can revert to Slacker mode where nothing is expected of them. Most people are aware of the violent video games, the "music", the heavily advertised media world they wander in, the excessive fart and poop jokes that everyone assumes boys like, and so on. What this book doesn't do is advocate shielding a child from it. Instead, it encourages a "Reality Based" parenting model, which acknowledges the existence of this media and tells parents to use it to start dialogues on what boys really do and how they feel about all this subtle messaging. We should teach our kids to be smart consumers of media, not passive slugs eating everything at the buffet of media lunacy.
This is pretty close to what I've been doing with Stitch. When he came home asking me what a collection of profanity and obscene gestures was all about, I honestly told him. Watching toy advertisements, I point out that there's special lighting and camera tricks to make things seem more exciting than they really are. (It helps that we can get him up close and personal with these special effects.) While I do make some effort to limit what Stitch is exposed to, I don't go out of my way to ensure he doesn't see certain things. I won't take him to an R-Rated movie, but I will explain the trailer of one if we happen to get stuck with it while waiting for "Happy Feet" to start.
Figure Skating did get a mention in this book; "Blades of Glory" was offered as an example of the ridiculousness and ridicule of men who dare to step outside of the accepted male model. Don't get excited, that was pretty much it. But it was true. Figure Skating in this culture is not a male activity. Period. While running spots for Ice Show, I overheard a father say to his son, "They play hockey, that's how they can skate like that," referring to the male soloists doing doubles and spins. Little boys who dare to Figure Skate and not play Hockey, like Stitch, get some eyerolls and funny looks from the other Moms and Dads who are buying into our hyper-gendered culture. This is kinda sad, and sometimes I wonder what would happen if I intimated that their daughter was a lesbian because she played hockey and didn't figure skate. (I haven't done it. Yet.)
This book also took on the "F" word. "F" as in "Faggot." I have a coworker who made the comment of "fagure skating" to me once. I laughed and asked him why he said that. "Because they're all gay," he replied casually. So? Who cares? This book takes on "faggot" as the slur that it is, and that it needs to be removed from the cultural vernacular to describe anything that is ultra feminine, froufy or just plain "not hyper male."
It's sad that the Culture children grow up in does so much to shortchange boys of their potential, and this book offers up a lot of ways to counteract that. It's not easy; it involves a lot of talking, a lot of honesty and a hell of a lot of time. It involves taking your child as he is, not as what others project him to be. Stitch has defied convention for a long time, but he's never realized it. In Pre-School he was the lone Dragon among three identical Transformers. (Did anyone wonder why a PreSchooler was dressing as a character from a movie they shouldn't be seeing?) At the craft store he gets mad that all craft kits are geared towards girls. We just don't buy the kits and he enjoys making things all the same. He's passed over the "My Weird School" series for "Junie B Jones," which features a girl as lead. He loves his trains, but the Hot Wheels got played with maybe once or twice, and the Spiderman stuff got dusty really fast. (Did anyone ask why toys for 5 year olds come from an R rated movie?) People ask me what he's "into" so they can buy birthday and holiday gifts, and I don't have a pat answer like "Superman" or "Batman" or "Cars." I have to get creative to match his ever widening and expansive interests, and this makes the relations crazy. I once sent my mom on a scavenger hunt to find the elusive "Owly" comic series. (I HIGHLY recommend this series for young children, it is THE BOMB. Even for non-readers, GET IT!)((Edit, Owly Link, Free Comics!! But buy Andy's books because Andy is awesome... http://www.andyrunton.com/owly/ )
Every child is unique, and Popular Culture is going to try and fit them into a stupid box. This book offers up some great strategies to help you and your kids avoid that box and stay special. I got my copy at the library, but I imagine Amazon's got it, too.
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