My daughter’s favorite stuffy has been bedridden with a terrible cold for two days now. She’s also started writing/singing songs about needing to stay home to stay well.
We’ve had to walk a fine line between being open and honest with her — and keeping her at peace. But invariably every time we have to explain something new (why play dates are cancelled... why we aren’t going to preschool... why we can’t go to the playground... why we can’t go to restaurants... why we can’t go visit grandma...), the stress digs in a little deeper, no matter how delicately we deliver the words.
Just a reminder that even the littlest humans are indeed still human, and this is a tough time for them, too.
So be patient. Walk away if you get angry, and give them a hug even when their sadness defies all reason. Do whatever you can to make the most of this time together, and when all else fails, remember to give yourself a break, too.
Mis-Lead: Toxic Metal Continues to Find Its Way into Children's Products
Nothing says “sweet dreams” quite like a lead-laced sleeping bag.
One of the most upsetting things for me, as a first-time parent, was realizing my daughter’s first-ever sippy/straw cup contained lead paint. I’d spent HOURS looking for the perfect cup — one that stored her drink in glass (because of all the gross chemicals that leach into water from plastic); had a silicone straw (for the same reason); and yet was encased to prevent breaking if thrown or dropped. So when I discovered a cup from a “green” company that ticked all of those boxes, I felt like I’d hiked to the top of a parenting Everest.
That bubble burst in a (not-so) glorious fashion a few months later when a friend sent me an article that confirmed the unthinkable: the demarcations on the glass portion of said sippy cup were done with lead paint. And the silicone straw? It contained cadmium.
I was livid. Frustrated. Upset. How was this even possible? Isn’t lead paint — particularly for items INFANTS will come into contact with — banned? Would there be a recall? Was the company — which sold and continues to sell many of its products at Whole Foods — going to issue a massive apology, be completely ashamed, and explain away the matter as a manufacturing error?
The answers astounded me: there would be no recall. Having lead paint on a surface infants and toddlers drink from is somehow still legal (there are certain restrictions, but they’re a joke, particularly when you consider the amount of lead that is safe for babies and toddlers is ZERO).
Worse yet, even though the company (Green Sprouts) offered to replace the glasses with “paint free” ones for free, there was no real apology (and certainly not a recall). Rather, they explained it away as “within legal limits.” And I say again: NO AMOUNT OF LEAD IS “SAFE” FOR ANYONE, LEAST OF ALL SMALL CHILDREN. Even small amounts of lead exposure, particularly for infants and toddlers, can cause intellectual disabilities, brain damage, kidney failure and possibly death.
Lead paint should have gone the way of dinosaurs, blast into extinction by the meteor of public awareness. But instead: it persists — presumably because it’s dirt cheap — and even companies with “green” in their name and mission continue to use it with reckless abandon.
Skip ahead two years. I’m at Walmart looking for a camping chair for my daughter when I stumble upon this adorable rocket ship sleeping bag from Ozark Trail (Walmart’s own line of outdoor gear). It feels soft, like cotton, and since my daughter is currently obsessed with all things pertaining to space, it seemed like the perfect purchase. I was trying to figure out what the lining was made out of when I instead found a tag indicating the sleeping bag (for some inexplicable reason) contains lead and “can be harmful if chewed.”
All of the anger I felt two years ago came flooding back. Like many three-year olds, my daughter still puts WAAAYYY too many things in her mouth, and the odds of her eventually suckling on her sleeping bag are pretty high. So while on one hand I’m grateful they at least had the wherewithal/legal foresight to mark the bag with this disclaimer — our sippy cup manufacturer gave no such notice — I’m still beyond upset that lead is still widely used in consumer goods, particularly those made for children.
This. Is. Not. O. K.
So how do we make it stop? We could storm the legal bodies that set the limits (namely the CPSC, in the case of consumer goods), but no one really seems to listen to anyone unless money is exchanging hands. And let’s be honest: whether out of necessity or simply the desire to save, the vast majority of consumers are more likely to roll the dice on a cheaper product, rather than invest in a more expensive item that has been rigorously tested and certified to not contain harmful materials. Such products do exist in some consumer categories, but they are cost-prohibitive for many families (infuriating when you consider lead shouldn’t be allowed in any products regardless of price tag, and no companies should allow it under the flag of “well, it meets [lackluster] government regulations”) .
So what is a consumer to do?
For starters, look closely at product labels. If it has a “contains lead” warning, don’t buy it. If it includes a warning about how it doesn’t meet safety requirements for the state of California — the state with the strictest regulations — don’t buy it. Companies make merchandising decisions based on sales. If we keep buying it, they’ll keep making it. If we don’t buy it, they’ll eventually stop. It’s economics 101.
And if you buy something with no such warning label that is later determined to contain anything unsafe: raise a stink. Call them. Write them. Demand they do better, and stop buying them until they do.
Because contrary to many idioms, “love” isn’t the universal language — money is. And until we start speaking with our wallets, products containing lead and other harmful materials will continue to find their onto store shelves.
Water > Oil
10 REASONS TO SIGN THE PETITION TO STOP THE DAKOTA ACCESS PIPELINE (DAPL)
If you haven't already done so, please consider signing the petition to halt the Dakota Access Pipeline (DAPL). Here's why:
- Water is greater than oil. Without water, we die.
- The land the pipeline cuts through was granted to the Sioux People in 1851 via the Fort Laramie Treaty. This is their land.
- The U.S. Government has failed to make good on that treaty, and claims the Sioux People are trespassing. Let's say the land doesn't belong to them (though it does). One leak from the pipeline could destroy their only water source.
- Think that will never happen? It just did.
- Think the government wouldn't approve anything that could potentially harm its citizens? Remember Flint, MI (where, by the way, residents still don't have clean water).
- Police departments from around the country have been dispatched to "defend" the pipeline. Many have refused to go. And U.S. military veterans have announced they will be joining the protestors in the coming days. In sum: This isn't a battle between police and civilians; it's a battle between right and wrong.
- The abuse must stop. On November 20, tear gas, water cannons (in freezing temperatures), concussion grenades and rubber bullets were used for hours against peaceful water protectors. Hundreds were injured, some severely. (Tear gas, by the way, has been classified as a chemical weapon and banned from international conflict - and police departments around the world - since 1993).
- Time is running out. The day after Thanksgiving - the most ironic of days - the Army Corps of Engineers used this senseless act of violence as an excuse to issue a statement telling the Sioux People to vacate their camp by December 5 for their own safety. Those who refuse to leave will be held liable for any injury inflicted upon them. In other words: we've given you a taste of what we can do; leave your own land, or we will hurt you.
- There have been two petitions. If you signed the first one - which successfully prompted President Obama to temporarily halt the pipeline - that doesn't mean you've signed this one (whose purpose is to permanently stop construction). If you aren't sure which petition you signed, check this one out to see.
- The cliché is true: Those who fail to remember the past are doomed to repeat it.
Still aren't comfortable signing the petition? Want more information before you do? Here's some history on the pipeline. Check it out, digest it, and determine which side of history you will be on: those defending clean water, those defending the pipeline, or those who do nothing.
The Evolution of Empathy
BACK TO THE BEGINNING
My 5th grade teacher's social studies experiment went a little like this: she broke us up into small groups and handed each group a stack of cards. Each card contained an ethically based question. You would draw a card, read it to yourself, choose a member of your group that you thought would most likely respond "Yes" or "No" to your question, and would then write down, on a piece of paper, what you thought that person's response would be.
When another student read his card, and directed his question at me, I felt a sort of anxiety I've seldom experienced in the years since.
"If you were an elementary school principal, and a student wanted to enroll who was HIV-positive, would you allow him or her?"
I honest-to-God felt my pulse quicken. My soul split into a million directions. The neurons in my brain were simultaneously processing every bit I'd heard on the news regarding the illness.
Before you judge me too harshly for even being at all conflicted -- rather than shouting a resounding "YES!" -- you should know a few things about the timeline:
- HIV and AIDS were still very new to the public limelight. Treatments were highly experimental, and people weren't living for decades with medication (but rather were dying slow and painful deaths).
- We weren't yet sure how it was transmitted. Sexually and through blood contact, sure, but there were still whispers of saliva, sweat, tears, sneezes, coughs and even mosquito bites.
- This all occurred just a couple towns over from the school district that had shunned Ryan White a few years prior. And so: while internally I felt an abundance of empathy with what I witnessed first-hand, the world around me was awash with rumors and fear.
I couldn't choose. I told my classmate that there were a lot of factors at play, and I'd really need more information on how the virus is transmitted. But in the end, I couldn't dance around the issue. I couldn't offer a "grey" answer.
"It's yes or no," he reminded me.
I repeated my distaste for having to choose, but said that in the interest of "protecting" the other students until we knew more about how you "catch it," my response was "no."
It was a decision I immediately regretted.
I cannot forget the look on my classmate's face, even after all of these years, as he showed me the piece of paper where he'd written down, "She'll say yes."
"If there was anyone at this school who would've said 'yes,' I thought it'd be you," he said.
He looked at me for a moment, a quiet disappointment on his face, and a silence fell between us.
I was ashamed.
It was truly a pivotal moment in my life, and I decided -- then and there -- to always strive to err on the side of kindness, even in the face of fear.
Because, more often than not, it is the right thing to do.
AND SO IT GOES
I haven't always succeeded, to be sure. I am more sinner than saint, and live every day in conflict between who I am, and who I want to be. But I never lose sight of the latter and that, I think, is perhaps most important.
It's an idea that screams at me now. This desire to do something more, to help people, to make the world a better place.
I've felt it every time I've read about a Syrian refugee losing their life when trying to escape their war-torn county. I felt it when, last Friday morning, I read about a bombing in Baghdad. And then again when I was reading about a similar attack in Beirut. I was reading about the 40+ lives lost there when the article vanished from the front page, and was replaced with stories regarding the series of attacks unfolding in Paris..
The feeling deepened, my heart transported across the ocean and delivered to the people of France.
And I feel it now, no less strongly than last Friday, as I see governors around the United States (what is it now? 27?) closing their doors to Syrian refugees -- for fear that one might be a terrorist in disguise.
I understand their fear. I have felt that fear.
And it disgusts me.
GIVE ME YOUR TIRED
Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
Associated Press
We could discuss, in great detail, the ironies inherent in the inscription on the Statue of Liberty, gifted to us by France in 1886, and the words and actions of those 27 governors. But you've heard this argument before, and a great many of you are tired of hearing it.
We could talk about the story of a poor Middle Eastern couple turned away from every door they approached when attempting to find a home for their son, some 2,016 years ago. But I'd wager you've heard that one before too, and are currently busy with your related shopping lists.
So let's return to my childhood for a minute. There were two lessons repeatedly taught to me by my parents that I have long mistaken as being universal. But the more I read the headlines, the more I'm beginning to think my parents passed something along to me that not everyone was fortunate enough to learn as a kid:
- Always wear clean underwear in case you're in an accident (I still don't understand why this one is so important, Mom).
- There are good and bad people of all races and religions. In other words: don't judge people by the color of their skin or which religious text they follow, because -- as much as these two factors might help inform their personality -- there's more to every person's story.
If you think my parents brainwashed me with that one, I gotta say: it's the best kind of brainwashing there is. And I'm grateful for it.
A REALIST AT HEART
I am not deluded. I have educated myself on the enemy. I have read about their "grey zone" and the desire to turn the world against moderate Muslims (who, for the record, they despise perhaps even more than they despise you and me). I know that they will stop at nothing to further their agenda, to split the world in two, to sow distrust when we need unity above all other things.
And I know that plan could entail disguising one of their own as a refugee. It happened in Paris, it seems, and the fear is real. And now tens of thousands of homeless people are paying the price.
Distrust widens. Unity weakens. And the enemy's plan falls into place.
It's up to us to not allow that to happen. It's up to us to treat people as we'd wish to be treated. To help our neighbors -- whether they're across the street or across the globe -- when they need a hand.
And here's the real kicker: if you don't think the enemy is already here, you're sadly mistaken. They told us themselves, months ago, when they posted pictures their "army" took at various cities around the United States.
They're here. And we continue to engage in "prejudicial ideologies" (to quote a well-known quarterback who gained at least one new fan last weekend) that not only helped create the situation we're in today, but also furthers the enemy's agenda. By turning your back on all Muslims, you're supporting their cause. And you don't even realize it.
HERE'S WHERE I GET ANGRY
No, not at you. Chances are I respect your opinion, even if we disagree (and based on the vast majority of my newsfeed, odds are we don't see eye-to-eye on this). And, yeah, I'm angry at the enemy for what they've done and continue to do, but that's a given.
What I'm really angry about is the devastatingly large size of our weapons, versus the size of our intelligence. Let's work with our allies. Let's be smart. Let's crack codes. Let's pinpoint with absolute certainty the location of our target, and leave the schools and hospitals intact. OK?
Because when you bomb those, you're not just killing hundreds of innocent people (which seems horrible enough, no question). You're also sowing distrust and perpetuating a cycle that must be stopped.
TO BE CONTINUED
You're scared and want to protect your family, your friends, yourselves. I understand that. I really do. But to mask a desire to protect those you care about with a blanketed hatred for thousands of people that are not only without houses, but without a country?
That, I cannot understand. And if that, as a people, is who we are? It is not who we should be.
I said it after the attacks on Paris, and I'm saying it again:
We are, at our core, so much better than all of this.
And we must never forget it.
Associated Press
"Please Just Stop," Says World
I would unite with anybody to do right and with nobody to do wrong. –Frederick Douglass
Within 24-hours, attacks perpetuated by the same terrorist organization killed 129 in Paris, 44 in Beirut and 26 in Baghdad – and this speaks nothing of the hundreds wounded in those three cities.
And let’s not forget the Russian passenger plane that was brought down two weeks ago, killing all 224 people on board. Dare I mention the people of Syria, who are dying as they flee their war-torn country in search of normalcy? Or the horrible atrocities that affect people around the globe every day, that are often a mere blip in your newsfeed?
Note the emphasis on people. No matter which country you hail from, or where you reside now. Regardless of your religion, your skin color, your whatever. We are all people sharing this planet. People with wishes, dreams, aspirations. People who laugh, cry and sing. People who go to the market. People with bills to pay. People with music to listen to and books to read.
None of us are entirely great, nor wholly without sin. We see it every day in others and in ourselves. We are an imperfect species, beautiful in one breath and terrible in the next.
It’s a battle as old as our bones; any history book will tell you that. No matter how far we come, we continue to have so very far to go. We abolish one horrific act and somewhere, someone else perpetuates another. It is an ongoing battle, a leaky hose that refuses to be fixed. We tell ourselves it will never truly end, so why bother trying? We go about our days, keep our head down, and hope for the best. We live our lives, only occasionally – especially on days like today – stopping to ask that we be allowed to do so until the natural end of our days.
But not everyone is so fortunate. Not everyone will have that wish granted. Not everyone can take the day for granted and continue to hope for the best. And so it goes for the many lives lost, and the countless lives impacted, in yesterday’s senseless acts. And because it is all indeed so very senseless: the world's heart is aching.
We are all embroiled in an ongoing battle between light and dark. For some people, the latter triumphs. Hopelessness turns to hate, and the monster grows from within. As strange as it might seem, I feel sorry for those people. Anyone who loses their humanity – anyone who fails to appreciate the delicate nature of life – has lost the war, regardless of however many battles they think they win. And we must, as a people sharing this planet – as a species simultaneously capable of beauty and terror – always strive for beauty to win out.
Because we are, at our core, so much better than all of this.