The Recital

"Will you fix my sleeves?" she says. It's Sunday morning and I'm still kind of half sleeping and Fable is fully dressed at the side of the bed with her leotard over her tights over the underwear that hangs out the sides of her velvet one-piece. I don't bother tucking it in because she's four and it doesn't matter. And then I take pause, relishing in this moment of quiet innocence, trying to recall the way it felt to be her age, when I was too little to care about such things. Or rather, to know I should.

So much of innocence is that lack of awareness. Of what people are saying and what they're doing and how they judge. The need to protect from outside influences is as innate as our desire to return to simpler times. When we were more like them, our children. When we could hold cameras up to our faces, lens cap still attached, and see the world, alive and vibrant, without ever really seeing anything.

Because we saw it all, you know?

They see it all.

And there was a time, like them, when we didn't think twice about how our bodies looked in leotards. When all that mattered were the sequins. Our only issues, twisted sleeves. 

"It's not working." Fable frowns. "Something's wrong with the shoulder part."

So I tell her relax, that I will help you please calm down.

"There," I say, untwisting her sleeve. She smiles. 

"Thanks, Mama. Can I do my makeup now?" 

"Shouldn't we have breakfast first?"

(Of course not.)

She does her own makeup because she wants to do it herself. Because "I know exactly how to do it, mommy."

She grabs the pinkest lipstick she can find and spends ten minutes applying it in slow motion.

She's right. She does know exactly how to do it. 

She is careful and excited and every so often turns around to smile at me and jump up and down. 

"I told you I could do it myself," she says and then she smears blush all over her cheeks and eyeshadow  under her eyes and I'm kind of relieved that it's everywhere - that it's a little bit of a mess.

Because she's four and it doesn't matter. 

When we arrive at the theatre, all of the children are in costume and I tell Hal that costumes haven't changed in twenty-five years. That I wore a costume just like that when I was little and my brother wore those same suspenders when he danced to 2 Legit 2 Quit - right before he quit dance to play baseball. 

Hal took dance class, too when he was young. He took ballet with a class full of girls - a class he loved and looked forward to until his friends found out and made fun of him. He quit the next day and never danced again.

My brother stopped for similar reasons. They all did. And I watch the little boys on stage recognizing that at some point they just stop dancing... that the girls age, get curvier and more confident, dance on chairs, flip their bodies through the air, but there are no boys over five on stage. 

And I think of Hal and how he "never lived that one down" and how unfortunate it is that we don't acknowledge #boysunstoppable the same way we do girls. 

"No girl should stop doing what she loves because of anxiety about her looks." 

No boy should stop doing what he loves because of anxiety about how it looks to everyone else. 

And yet... 

I watch Hal in the darkness with Archer next to him and all of the brothers and fathers in the audience in the same way I do the mothers and sisters. What were they doing before they were aware?

My husband danced. 

My brother danced. 

And then they stopped. 

One day my underwear was showing.

One day I put on my recital costume and noticed I had hips. And a chest that was no longer totally flat and legs that were suddenly  hairy and my eyebrows were too furry and I couldn't wear underwear under my leotard anymore because it showed and this is not fun anymore, I feel stupid. I don't want to be seen.

And then I stopped. 

I was done with dance. 

Age changes us. Age puts us in the audience when we wish we were on stage. Not because we want to be seen but because we miss dancing.

There was a time when I was so happy up there and I watch Fable's silhouette tiptoe across the stage and I remember how it felt to stand in the back and wait my turn - the rush of the darkness that seemed to stretch out in front of me like the universe as we whispered amongst ourselves and how the music was as loud as I'd ever heard it. One two and you're on! Kick ball change! Kick ball change. 

***

When the lights go up, Fable is smiling. The music swells and she puts her arms in the air, forgets some of the moves but it doesn't matter...

She dances somewhat out of sync and doesn't care. She twirls and waves, closes her eyes and drags her feet across the stage.

Hal and I are laughing and in the audience because we can't believe how big she is and how small she is and how confident and proud and stoic... She smiles, lips the words to the song... I watch them bloom for me and for you, and I think to myself...

She's not dancing for anyone but Fable. 

And nothing, not even a twisted sleeve, can stop her.

***

GGC

Scents and Scensibility #1

I am not a perfume fan. At all. Perfume makes me feel sick, actually, so I do not wear it. Haven't for years. Which is why my obsession for fragrant things, specifically fragrant things to put on my body is strange. But also not strange because smell is perhaps the most underrated sense we have as humans. Smell influences taste in every sense (ha!) and is something we should spend more time discussing. Because sometimes we cannot change the way we look or feel... but smell. Ah, we can smell like whatever we wish... or nothing at all. But also... there are things out there in the world and sometimes these things make us feel happy or sexy or just... you know, good... to smell.

God, what am I even saying right now? I do not know. What I do know is that I have stumbled upon many a wonderful smell-good things as of late and I have decided to make it my personal mission these next few months to recommend my faves.

Because perfume is so last century. And, when worn improperly, invasive to the personal space of friends and strangers who are now experiencing eau de dizziness and Coco de nausea c/o all those Sephora samples. (ED: I can't even go to Sephora anymore. It gives me legit morning sickness.)

First up? This saucy little number which I am recommending to you because it smells amazing/makes your skin feel awesome and might help you want to have sex more. With yourself, if nothing else.

I have no idea where it came from or who sent it to me or how old it is but when we moved I discovered it in a box and have been lathering my afre-shower self with it ever since.

It smells like a lavender if lavender were to fuse with green apple that time traveled from the 1920s and then exploded mid flight and got a little dusty? And then became oil.  (I am terrible at describing the way things smell but intend to work on this and hopefully, improve with time.)

Also? It's $20 and will last you an entire year if you use it sparingly. It also might help reduce stretch marks I just realized? Which would explain when/where it came from. Ahem. 

GGC

TOTW: Camp Glow

Family friend and peace corps volunteer, Maggie Close, has a blog called 27 months without peanut butter on which she has been documenting her experience working with teenage girls in Jordan. Her most recent post about Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) is especially powerful and I wanted to feature it, here, today.

***

The Girl Who Stood Up

“Girls,” we asked, “do you think you have the same rights as boys?”

They all nodded. It was the end of a long week and the room was at least eighty degrees. Forty-five girls were slouched together in a semi-circle around the projector. We were in the middle of an afternoon session of Camp GLOW, a week of intense leadership training at a university campus for Jordanian high school girls. We’d just finished watching a TED talk focusing on the work of Sakena Yacoobi, the director of the Afgan Institute of Learning- an organization that created underground schools for girls in Afganistan when girls’ education was banned by the Taliban in the 1990′s.

My friend Alexa was facilitating the discussion and battling the 4pm lull.

“Girls, do you think you have the same opportunities as boys?” They all nodded again. I raised my eyebrows at the other counselors.

“Malak,” I said, pointing to one of the nodders, “What kinds of opportunities do boys and girls both have in Jordan?”

“We can all go to school,” she stated simply.

“And we can all play sports,” chimed in Hiba.

“What else can both boys and girls do in Jordan?” Alexa asked. We got a lot of examples: driving a car, going to college, deciding what to study, choosing a career.

“Alright,” Alexa said, stepping closer to the group, “I want you to stand up if you think you would be allowed to do some of the things I’m about to say, okay? And you can stay sitting if you don’t think you could do those things because you are a girl.” The girls nodded. They follow directions well.

“Most families in Jordan would send their sons to study in America if they got into a university there. Stand up if your parents would let you go to university in America.” Two girls stood.

“Stand if your parents would let you live away from home before you were married.”

“With a relative?” asked Ensam hopefully.

“No, by yourself.”

One girl stood.

“Okay. You can play sports in school, right? But boys can play soccer anywhere they want, even in the street. Stand up if your parents would let you play soccer in the street.”

No one stood.

“But wait,” said Ensam, “I don’t want to play soccer outside.”

“Why don’t you want to play outside, Ensam?” I asked.

“Because I would be embarrassed. Everyone would look at me. It’s better in the school where it is only girls.”

“But Ensam,” I tried to explain, “if all the girls played soccer in the street, just like the boys, no one would look at you.”

She shook her head. “But girls don’t want to play soccer in the street.”

People in the States say that women in the Middle East are oppressed. And before I lived in Jordan, I might have said the same thing. But for some reason now, I balk at that word. Maybe it’s because of what Ensam said. Maybe it’s because I’ve lived with these women and I’ve seen their strengths, their skills, their courage. Maybe it’s because when we ask girls here if they have the same rights as boys, they nod. And I think in a lot of ways they’re right- most girls in Jordan are not oppressed. There’s a reason girls don’t play soccer in the street and it’s not because their parents say no. It’s because they don’t want to.

Girls in Jordan don’t play soccer in the street because they don’t want to make a scene. They don’t want to cause a problem. Standing up and being a leader means being looked at. It means being different. I haven’t met very many Jordanian girls who are comfortable being different.

Gender roles are deeply cultural and, for most Jordanians, very closely tied with religion. It is not my job to tell anyone that their perspective is wrong and if I did, I’d be a hypocrite. I’m an unmarried 24 year old with a boy’s haircut and baggy clothes. What do I know about gender roles? Yet somehow 45 Jordanian families have agreed to put their daughters in my care for a week. The very least I can do is respect their perspective. Still, the annual UNICEF report from 2012 showed that the number of Jordanian women who believe that a husband is justified in beating his wife under certain circumstances is 90%. And despite being known as one of the most liberal countries in the Middle East, Jordan has one of the highest rates of honor killings in the world.

These are the problems we are trying to begin solving with Camp GLOW.

“Okay,” Alexa said, “I want to ask you another question now. The girls that Sakena Yacoobi knew in Afganistan were not allowed to go to school, or to even have books. But she helped them go to school anyway, even though it was against the law. If she had been caught, she could have been killed. Why do you think she did it?”

Malak stood up. A crowd of young girls in hijab looked up.

“Because she knew she was right.”

***

Camp GLOW is a 6-day annual girls' leadership program held overnight at a university for high-school girls from all over Jordan. GLOW offers Jordanian girls the opportunity to expand their English vocabulary, express their opinions and ideas, advocate for themselves, and think critically about current issues affecting their environment and their role as young Jordanian women growing up in the Middle East. There are very few opportunities for Jordanian girls to develop their leadership skills and independence and those skills are becoming increasingly important in the changing social and political climate of many Middle Eastern countries. Each day of the GLOW program focuses on a different leadership skill: self-care, trust-building and teamwork, creativity and perspective taking. and community involvement. As someone who had a big part in planning GLOW, recruiting campers, and working as a counselor during the camp I have seen the ways that these girls can grow after just a week and I can honestly say that watching that transformation has been one of the most incredible experiences of my life. You can read more about Camp GLOW Jordan at our official Peace Corps donation page. - Maggie 

For those who want to donate to this awesome cause/support Camp GLOW, you can do so through the Jordan Country Fund via the Peace Corps website. Be sure to note that you want your contribution to be used for Camp GLOW on the donation's page. Thank you in advance for your support and thank you, Maggie, for sharing your experience with Camp GLOW with us. 

all photos c/o Maggie Close

GGC

Navigation

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Putting my name on the map so I can search for myself and then find myself."

"Can I help you?"
"No thank you. Just sit down here and stay with me until I'm done."

GGC

Eat Well: Compost with the Most

The following post was written by my mom, WWW. Thanks, mom!

For years I was intimidated by the idea of composting. I hated throwing our table scraps into the sink, only to be ground up by the garbage disposer and washed down the pipes—what a waste—but the whole composting world seemed overwhelming. So many RULES!  What if the balance gets off? Where would I even put the compost heap and how would I keep out the vermin? When we converted our back-yard lawn into raised boxes for my garden 4 years ago, it seemed like the time to roll up my sleeves and figure out how to compost—which is what I did. I am now an enthusiastic member of the composting fan club—so much so, that over Easter I finally dusted off the Worm Factory I bought years ago at the county fair and, with Archer’s and Fable’s help, began worm composting, too. I LOVE my worms and so do the kids, especially Fable. It turns out her preschool just started a worm farm, too. Last time I was in LA, she told me all about her worms and asked how mine were doing. Sunday when everyone was here, Fable couldn’t wait to see mine. She even petted a couple of them!

I think children naturally recognize the joys of composting because it’s like magic….kitchen and garden waste, given the right environment and time, transform into lovely brown and nutrient rich soil. And worm composting is even more fun since we actually can see the creatures that are helping us with the process. Although I am by no means an expert on the topic, I thought I would share what I have learned as I have delved into the alchemy of composting.

First a little background. Composting requires nitrogen rich materials (green), carbon rich materials (brown), air, and water. Green materials are fruits and vegetables, coffee grounds, grass, manure, and green plants. Brown materials are dried leaves, shredded cardboard, newspaper, hay, sawdust pellets, and egg shells. If you want to make good compost quickly, it is important to balance the brown and the green. Once the right balance is reached, microorganisms will start digesting the compost, forming heat as a bi-product. Balancing everything can be tricky and a compost pile needs a lot of space. (Go here and here if you want more detailed information on the minute details of conventional composting or you can also look for composting classes in your town.) BUT…if you want to compost easily, there’s another solution.

The best way to compost in urban or suburban neighborhoods is to buy a composting bin, and my favorite type is a tumbler. The advantage to this type of composter is that it is fast, easy to aerate, and enclosed, so pests cannot get inside. Because it is a closed system, you don’t have to add extra water, either. I like the two-chambered tumblers because once one side is full, you can start composting on the other side while the first side “cooks” so you are continuously composting. The disadvantages to the tumbler composters are that they are too small to put all of your garden waste in, you have to cut up the debris into somewhat small pieces and, from my experience, it’s a little trickier keeping the moisture balanced in them.

When I researched composters four years ago, I came across the Jora, which is used all over Sweden, even in apartment complexes. It has two chambers, is insulated and, therefore, heats up even in the middle of winter, which is wonderful if you live in a cold climate. I bought one of these guys and it has served me well. It’s easy to use and large enough for lots of garden waste as well as kitchen scraps.

You can watch this video to see how it works. The disadvantages are that it is expensive, is kind of a pain to assemble (although now there is a video available to help you with this), and leaks, so when it rains, your compost can get too wet. Keeping it covered, however, solves this problem. Since the time that I bought my Jora, this one has become available, which looks great, too. It’s much cheaper, still has two compartments and seems easier to assemble.  It’s not insulated, though, so probably doesn’t work well in cold climates. It’s also much smaller than the Jora so you won’t get as much compost.

We don’t have a lot of “brown” garden waste where I live –no deciduous trees—so I use pressed pine pellets (cat or rabbit litter) as my carbon source for my Jora tumbler. They work well if you sprinkle them lightly on top, letting them absorb the water before turning the composter. Otherwise they can cause clumping. You can also use shredded newspaper and cardboard. My compost isn’t perfect…it is often a little too wet or a little too dry…but what I have discovered is that it still helps me grow beautiful vegetables.

As for worm composting (vermicomposting), you can buy a Worm Factory here and the worms at your local nursery (look to your recycling center in your area for subsidized worm farms, too.) The Worm Factory comes with great directions and even a DVD.

First you lay down damp newspaper. Then you add bedding made from coir (coconut fiber) mixed with shredded paper and cardboard. Next, food and the worms, covering with more shredded paper.

Layer the top with more damp newspaper and that’s it!

Every couple of days you can add more food. They love coffee grounds and chopped up vegetables as well as egg shells (don’t feed them citrus or meat).

When one tray is full, you add new bins on top with more bedding and food, so the worms migrate upwards and leave your bottom bins for your garden.

Vermicomposting won’t give you as much compost as conventional composting, but it is the most nutrient rich of all compost so you can use it as an organic fertilizer. And it doesn’t smell at all so you can even keep it in the house. The worms are really efficient at cranking out sweet smelling soil. They need a balance of brown and green food just as do the microorganisms in conventional composting. You can use egg cartons, cardboard, and newspaper as your brown food and kitchen scraps as your green. Go here  to find everything you ever wanted to know about vermicomposting, even how to make your own worm bins if you don’t want to buy a worm factory. I cannot emphasize enough how fun this is to do with kids and it’s so easy that they can be involved in all aspects of it.

Because we eat and grow so many vegetables, we have a lot of plant waste and composting puts that waste to work. But since this is an “Eat Well” post, I must mention that I also like to cook with some of these unused plant materials.

***

Several years ago I mentioned making soup with these scraps. You can make your own very cheap vegetable broth with all of the leftover veggies you have in the refrigerator. I call it “compost soup.” You can use carrot tops, the tops of leaks, beet greens, kale stems, parsley stems and leaves, left over bits of onion, carrots, carrot peelings, celery leaves, and any other leftover veggies, even lettuce! I save all of these vegetables in my refrigerator and when I have enough, throw them in a pot with some herbs and some peppercorns, cover with water, and cook for about an hour at a simmer. Strain off all of the solids, cool, and freeze them in packets and use whenever a recipe calls for vegetable broth.

Juicing is another way to utilize vegetable odds and ends. An added dividend….the fiber waste from the juice makes awesome worm food!

I often make “compost quiche,” sautéing whatever veggies I happen to have in my refrigerator for the base. (This is how I discovered our favorite leek and kale combo!)

That ends my Adventures in Composting. I’d love to hear about your composting experiences!

Love,
WWW