The 25 Days of Giving Challenge: Day 5

WELCOME BACK

December 5, 2012

I want to preface this whole post by proudly stating that I love Amazon.com.  I have managed to accomplish a lot of my own Christmas shopping from the warm, quiet comfort of my own home this year, thanks to Amazon's great selection and even greater prices (and reasonable shipping and return rates.)  And though this may seem like a "Shop Amazon!" commercial for which I am being paid some hefty commission (Don't I wish?  Because, yes, I will write for money.), this post was actually inspired by the reaction I had to Amazon's advertising tactics when I opened my email, titled "Gift Ideas by Relationship" this morning.  Clearly, this type of advertising isn't Amazon-specific by any means.  It's just part of the "for sale" world in which we live, especially at this time of year.  So I'll just present you with the following visual and give you a moment to process:

Your Amazon.com Today's Deals See All Departments

Gift Ideas by Relationship See more

Mom

Dad

Someone with Everything

Co-worker

Girlfriend/Wife

Boyfriend/Husband

Teenager

Family Friends

Grandma

Grandpa

Kids

College Student

And there it is. Make-up brushes for mom and tools for dad. (La Cage aux Folles this is not!)
But wait, it gets better. Because while the girlfriend/wife and the boyfriend/husband both need jewelry, clearly the girlfriend/wife is more interested in decorating herself, while the boyfriend/husband will be getting the new watch -- probably so he'll have something to tap anxiously while girlfriend/wife threatens to make him late for the party with Family Friends. And speaking of Family Friends, we will all be gifting
those Generic McNobody's with a "candy crate" this year. Something that admits: "We don't know you that well, so we thought we'd raise your blood sugar and add to your cholesterol numbers while contributing a donation in your name to the worldwide obesity fund. Happy holidays."

Of course, we can't forget our grandparents, those wise and lovely elders. I mean, don't we all have meek little grandmothers who live in curlers and aprons, and who long only for more picture frames? Because the infinite number of collages and portraits we've given them for the past twenty Christmases don't cover enough wall and coffee table and china hutch space already. And of course, our grandmas need something to stare at while our stereotypical grandfathers watch sports, right? After all, dad and boyfriend/husband will surely be over on Christmas day (hopefully on time, if mom and girlfriend/wife's beauty regimes and primping sessions don't take too long). And while the dad/boyfriend/husband contingent use their new tools to assemble and hang Grandma's picture frames, mom/girlfriend/wife can apply makeup and covet one another's jewels and marvel over ... the kids, who sit covered in Play-Doh gifts of their own. Because all kids lovvvveeee to smush gooey, sticky stuff between their fingers ... before they eat it. Even though mom/girlfriend/wife has repeatedly told the kids not to put anything in their mouths before threatening: "Wait til I tell dad/boyfriend/husband. Then you'll be sorry." Because mom/girlfriend/wife doesn't punish children, after all. It wouldn't be ladylike. And because dad/boyfriend/husband is the keeper of the tools and the recipient of the new timepiece -- and isn't that the place where all power actually lives?

Of course, the "extras" in the Amazon ad deserve some small mention, if only to pull me toward my final point - which, I realize, seems a long time coming. But can we really do no better for the "Someone with everything" than a fondue pot? Which, let's be honest, is probably what they got from all their "Someone with everything" friends last year. The very same friends who received (and likely regifted) the Candy Crate. At the same time, even for those of us who prefer to keep the personal out of the workplace, can we really do no better for our coworkers than a contraption with little metal balls attached to strings that bang into one another when plucked? Aside from inducing a rather problematic sort of workplace hypnosis, what is this thing supposed to do? What is its function? I see many missed deadlines and unproductive days in the futures of any coworkers who receive this confusing little distraction. Though, as always, I am willing to be educated on this one.

Perhaps the oddest Amazon gift recommendation of all - at least in my opinion - is the College Student coffee maker. Now, on some level, this one actually makes sense to me - college students drink coffee. Lots of it, in some cases. And a coffee maker is pretty gender neutral, which I appreciate. But don't most college students already have a coffee maker if they do, indeed, drink that much coffee? And what about mom/girlfriend/wife, or dad/boyfriend/husband? I bet some of them drink coffee, too. Maybe they would actually like a new coffee maker (perhaps to replace the one their college student son/daughter "borrowed" for the dorm and never returned.) As far as the grandparents are concerned, Grandma probably drinks tea anyway - since that's what all grandmothers do - and Grandpa probably sticks to scotch - since everyone knows that "the war" (Any war. All wars. Even the ones that happened before Grandpa was born) drives him to the bottle, which he now only drinks from when watching sports. Which is why he's always watching sports. And why people buy him more sports for Christmas and then complain that he drinks too much, especially on Christmas day.

I share all this to make one very self-serving Christmas gift recommendation that will deliver happiness and joy to anyone who receives it. It is my holiday pick this year, and my Hasky.com gift recommendation. It is gender neutral, ageless, ranges in price from free up to $1 million (I imagine, though I've never personally seen one that expensive), and will last forever if cared for and talked about and shared as widely as possible. The gift to give this Christmas, my friends, is the gift of books! Words. Stories. Lives. We all live them. We all read them. A few of us even try to write them.  And, after all, nothing says "I know you" better than the perfect book. Nothing says "I wanted to get you something you would enjoy and share and appreciate " like the perfect book. Nothing says "I listen to you when you talk to me about your interests" like the perfect book. And nothing says "You're not a generic, stereotypical Mom/Dad/Someone with Everything Coworker Girlfriend/Wife Boyfriend/Husband Teenager Family Friends Grandma/Grandpa Kids College Student" like the perfect book.

So while I love - and will continue to shop at - Amazon, I encourage you to give the people in your life at least one gift that acknowledges how much they mean to you this year. Give each of them a book! And if you need a book recommendation for the Moms/Dads/Someones with Everything Coworkers Girlfriends/Wives Boyfriends/Husbands Teenagers Family Friends Grandmas/Grandpas Kids College Students in your life -- ask them. I bet most of them will be only to happy to help you give them something they will love.

Happy holidays -- and happy reading!!

Til next time,

~ Hasky

A timely re-post of "Santa isn't coming this year!"

Happy holiday season, everyone.  As the stress of shopping and baking and decorating and running around threatens to take over our holiday cheer and interrupt our peace and joy, I thought this piece (which I originally shared on December 12, 2011) was a timely re-post.  And some necessary food for thought.  Enjoy!

"Santa isn't coming this year!" 

(12/12/11)

Last year at this time, life was very much the same as it is today: It was just before Christmas. Red and green decorations erupted all over stores and offices and front lawns while lyrics intended to make me smile and glow (i.e. "Born in a stable" and "I am a poor boy, too") generated tears of sorrow and angst rather than celebratory smiles and endless joy.  They always do.  I'm not sure why, exactly.

I should probably clarify right away that, overall, I am not anti-Christmas.  I even love the story of Ebenezer Scrooge, not because he is an angry, nasty little miser, but because he eventually sees the beauty of humanity that often comes alive at this time of year - and more importantly, he realizes his own capacity for growth and compassion in the process.  I love that, despite the anger and hatred that often seem to permeate our world on a daily basis, this time of year inspires people to give  -- and not just material gifts, but time, and service, and genuine human connection.

But last year at this time, something out of the ordinary did happen, and I have found myself thinking about it over the last week or so, amidst all the twinkling and sparking and jingling.  I was in Plattsburgh visiting my family a few days before Christmas, and while my parents were at work and my brother was busy, I sat at Panera enjoying a hot coffee, an internet connection (much faster than my parents' dial-up), and a two-hour block of time to write.  The restaurant was packed, but I had been fortunate enough to find a corner table by an electrical outlet - my own little pre-Christmas miracle.  And since I was trapped in a writer's nightmare - time to write and nothing to write about - I was happy to watch groups of people parade by with their packages and their soup/salad combos and their animated conversations.  Something would give birth to an idea if I just sat.  And sipped.  And observed.  Patiently.

At about 2pm, a frazzled mother walked by with two very young, very tired children.  While the little boy screamed and cried, the little girl pulled on her mother and threw herself into chairs and tables to relieve the indescribable stress of childhood. Suddenly, without a word, the children switched roles - the little boy began slapping himself and falling into walls and garbage cans while the little girl started screaming and pleading for toys and cookies and princess shoes.  And then there was mom - loaded down with bags and soup bowls and sippy cups and a very large, ergonomically destructive purse.  She threatened to topple as she lumbered past me, and she almost seemed to prefer lying face down on a Panera floor to dealing with her very normal-for-their-age-and-situation kids.

As a childless woman of 37, I sympathized with the mom on some level, even as I wondered what would possess anyone to trek around town on the Friday before Christmas with two little ones who should have eaten lunch (and probably taken a nap) hours ago.  But I get it - daycare isn't always an option.  And isn't this, at least theoretically, supposed to be part of the seasonal joy?  Shopping and lunching with one's children, surrounded by the splendid wonder of Christmas tidings and lightly falling snow?

I'll save you some time on this one: The answer is No.

But I didn't realize it before that moment. Not really.  Let me be clear here  - I am generally not a "grass is greener" kind of person - only because I have found that, from afar, weeds tend to be greener than grass. It isn't til you are up close and personal with the lovely shade of "greener" that you realize it's non-grass, often covered in fertilizer, or waiting to be plucked and discarded from someone's carefully manicured lawn.  That being said, I do have a habit of romanticizing parenthood.  I've often wondered whether I made a mistake by choosing not to have children.  And then, something like this plays out in front of me and reminds me of the reality: Children are wonderful, beautiful miracles - a good thing since they are exhausting, and expensive, and an unending litany of needs and demands and anxiety-provoking behaviors.  They are, after all, human beings.

Of course, none of this logic hit me at that moment.  I was too caught up in the scene unfolding, the mother's eyes beginning to water, the children exploding in a cacophony of wails, the eyerolls and speedy exits of the other diners whose "tsk tsk" nods further condemned the already defeated mother as she plopped first the boy, then the girl into red, plastic booster seats and shoved them as close to the table as possible.  I didn't think things could possibly get worse, until I watched the little girl pick up her mother's bowl of soup and turn it over on top of the table.

Time stopped.  Noodles and chicken hit the floor, landing in puddles of their own broth.  The green ceramic bowl sat, inverted, in front of the victorious little girl whose Grinch-like grin curled her mouth upward and forced her eyebrows into a sinister arch.  I couldn't move.  I didn't know whether to help or look away or leave.  And shamefully, I admit, I was most curious to see how mom intended to handle a maneuver that would have paralyzed me.

And that was when it happened.  Mom yanked her little girl's arm, looked directly into the child's face, and screamed through the tears leaping two at a time out of her eyes: "SANTA ISN'T COMING THIS YEAR!"

All I could do was join in the collective gasp as everyone in the restaurant (who hadn't already retreated to the quiet parking lot) recoiled and immediately slapped a "Worst Mother of the Year" label on this woman's soul.  How could a mother say such a thing?  How would these children ever enjoy Christmas now?  What about a simple "Time Out" or going to bed without dessert?  Or what about feeding these children lunch at a decent hour and navigating the crowds with two children in tow a little more strategically?

But as I sat in judgment, another thought arrived, replacing the all-too-familiar critical voice of a non-parent:  This woman, this tired, overwhelmed, vilified woman, was Santa.  And she didn't get to go away to a toy shop and hang out with elves and show up once a year to be adored and idolized.  She was Santa every day.  Unless she was busy playing the role of Tooth Fairy.  Or Easter Bunny.  Or Nurse/Taxi/Chef/Coach/Teacher/Housekeeper/All-knowing, Never-sleeping, Rarely-eating ... Mom.

For a moment, I met her eyes and tried to tell her, with the nonverbal glance of a non-mom who would never speak her language, that I understood.  Not her situation, of course.  But her defeat.  And her desire to give up.  She glared at me as if to scream "What the hell do you know about my life?!" and she was, of course, very right.  I knew enough to know that I knew nothing. Not about her life, anyway.

At that moment, a Panera employee showed up with a broom and a pile of napkins - he could have been a knight on a white horse for all the fuss this mother made. She wept and thanked him and apologized over and over while she helped him clean her messy life off the table and floors.  Her children simply watched in silence.

It took me a year to write about this  - probably becase I felt some sense of voyeuristic shame as I watched it happen, refusing to look away, unable to walk away.  But as the holiday season continues to envelop us day by day, I am reminded that the spirit of Christmas is really what we make it.  Some of us play Santa.  Some of us play Scrooge.  Some of us bake and shop and wrap.  Some of us sing and party and travel.  But no matter what our roles and regardless of our beliefs, we all want Santa to show up with gifts.  And it is my hope that whether you are a four year old child in need of a nap, or a forty year old mother in need of a break, or even a kid from 1 to 92, that your Santa Claus knows where to find you.  My guess is, your gifts have already arrived, you just haven't gone looking for them yet.

May your holidays and your new year ahead be filled with happiness and peace ... and perhaps a warm bowl of chicken noodle soup.

Love, Hasky

Some thoughts on The Emotional Eater's Repair Manual, by Julie Simon.

I recently read and reviewed The Emotional Eater's Repair Manual, by Julie Simon.  It hits stands tomorrow (December 1, 2012) and I highly recommend it to anyone who ... eats.  Or doesn't, as the case may be.

You can go here for my full review and a brief description of the book.

Happy reading!
~~ Hasky

Some thoughts on Chinese Food Therapy

Halloween is here. Thanksgiving is just around the corner. And then it's on to Christmas and Hanukkah and Kwanzaa.  No matter what or how you celebrate, one thing is universally true: we have entered The Food Months.  And I'm not talking about fresh, healthy, whole foods. I am talking about those familiar sweet, high fat, high carb, low fiber foods that beckon to us until we finally give in.  Over and over and over again.  Until January 1st, when we land on the couch in a pile of bloated exhaustion, vowing to "eat better, do better, be better" ... starting tomorrow.

But what is it about the availability of so many foods that tempts us, then promises to satisfy us, then fails to sustain us until they tempt us once again?   Well, there are as many theories as there are foods, of course, but Chinese food therapy is one that actually makes sense to me.

Chinese food therapy is based on the idea that foods generally fall into two main categories: Yang foods, which heat the body, and Yin foods, that have a chilling effect. When we consume equal and reasonable amounts of Yin and Yang foods, the body achieves its natural state of balance, while an excess or restriction of either category leads to an imbalance of natural "heat" and "cold" in the body that can lead to and/or exacerbate disease.

One of the first signs of hot/cold imbalance often appears in the form of a craving. A sugar craving, for example, is not always about a lack of willpower. In fact, a sugar craving (or worse, a sugar addiction) can be - and most likely is - evidence of yang food overload ... and not enough yin. And why? Because sugar is a Yin food. But guess what? It isn't the only one. So while many of us run to cookies and candy to satisfy our perceived "sugar needs" only to find that we feel bloated, nauseus, and needing more sugar a mere ten minutes later, a serving of healthy Yin foods would likely satisfy our physiological needs without the compounding the sugar toxicity and further tipping the Yin/Yang imbalance.

The Yin/Yang diet is grounded in macrobiotic concepts, as shown in the chart below. Although we need 1/3 yang food to 2/3 yin food, the typical American diet is primarily Yang food-based: meat, potatoes, cheese, and wine, for example with minimal Yin foods.  Not too hard to see where the imbalances are coming from or why we turn to the fastest acting Yin foods when the imbalance becomes unmanageable.

Not only a form of nourishment and weight management, food in Chinese culture is also medicinal. Understanding the Yin/Yang food concept is essential for treating "hot" conditions such as Eczema, where garlic, chilies and potatoes may best be avoided. In the same way, it is believed that an over consumption of too many hot foods like " foods like peanuts or smoked fish could cause a rash, whereas too many grapes or bean sprouts could cause digestive problems.

Does any of this ring true for you?  Are you a heavy Yin food eater?  Or do you consume a diet of mostly Yang foods?  If you're considering a holistic approach to diet and healing, give the above list a try and see what happens.  Whether your cravings or rashes disappear, whether your energy or sleep improves, and use how you feel as your measure of success.

Just some food for thought. And balance.

Til next time,

~ Hasky

Wordless Wednesday Post

Happy Wednesday!  

And welcome to your weekly opportunity to do all the talking.

Use the image below to talk about absolutely anything that comes to mind.  

Until next Wednesday,
~ Hasky

You shouldn't have to work to be happy. Or should you?

If you do nothing else for yourself today, commit to challenging - and getting out of the way of - those self-limiting stories of the past that you allow yourself to repeat and believe in.

Step 1: Figure out how theses stories are serving you even as they restrict you.  Because even when we engage in self-limiting (and in many cases self-destructive) behavior, we generally think there is something "in it" for us.  Something that is protecting us, comforting us, saving us from pain and sadness and illness and failure.

So, how do you identify one of these little (or big) self-saboteurs?  I've found that they tend to have a few common elements:

• They often begin with phrases like
• I always
• I never
• I can't
• I have to/I must
• I should/I shouldn't
• I need
• I won't
• I don't
• We often feel a sense of discomfort even as we are engaging in them, a sort of "I know I shouldn't eat this food" or "I always end up in self-destructive relationships."  Yet we pursue them anyway.  Because there is some thing that we believe we are getting from them.  Think about that. See if you can identify a few of these "faux rewards" and think about other, less self-limiting ways to achieve them (without what you have come to see as "just the price I pay for happiness.")

A few more tips and tricks:

Most of us have people in our lives who are willing - and often eager - to share their opinions about all the "unhealthy/destructive/incorrect" things we do, from our choice in careers and partners to where and how we live.  But think about the people in your life whose opinions you trust, who seem like sound, reasonable friends/family members, and (here's the catch) who don't routinely offer unsolicited opinions or advice, but who are generally willing to share their thoughts when asked (and who don't use the "You always/You never/You can't/You have to" phrases in the process.) Certainly don't act on their advice, no matter how well-intentioned, but listen to it.  Log it.  Refer to it often as you examine some of your choices and behaviors.  Don't have people like this in your life?  What about spiritual leaders, writers, historical figures whose lives appeal to you or whose words resonate deeply?  Read a passage or listen to a speech or interview, and really pay attention to the words and their meaning.  I actually enjoyed Gretchen Reuben's book The Happiness Project as a practical guide to self-evaluation and to a gradual, realistic pursuit of personal happiness.

Finally, sit down in a quiet place (ideally a beautiful room with a burning fireplace and soft music and unlimited time to think and write - but realistically a coffee shop, your car, a bathroom stall, wherever you can steal a few minutes with just yourself) and finish the following Happiness Statement

"I would be happiest if ______________________"

As you answer this, I strongly encourage you not to censor yourself.  You can answer this in one sentence or fifty + pages. Don't consider money, time, current or past obligations and schedules and lifestyle.  Yes, those are all considerations, but for now, to determine your happiness goal, just write.  And think.  And write some more.  In other words, don't limit.  Not just yet.  And remember, "Happiness" is not a goal we reach, but a never-ending journey we walk, twisting and turning, changing direction, speeding up and slowing down, not so much eager to arrive as we are content to remain on the path.

Care to share your sentence here?

Til next time,
~ Hasky

For more about happiness (and to help you write your own happiness statement):

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/michael-s-broder-phd/giving-back_b_1959722.html?utm_hp_ref=happiness

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/10/09/gps-guide-alison-sudol-a-fine-frenzy_n_1948443.html?utm_hp_ref=happiness

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/10/15/happiness-longevity_n_1968158.html?utm_hp_ref=happiness

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/10/08/motivational-videos-deepak-chopra_n_1937164.html?utm_hp_ref=happiness#slide=1597136

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/08/23/marlo-thomas-mondays-with-marlo-where-does-happiness-come-from-from-gretchen-rubin_n_1825814.html?utm_hp_ref=happiness

Wordless Wednesday Post

Happy Wednesday!  

And welcome to your weekly opportunity to do all the talking.

Use the image below to talk about absolutely anything that comes to mind.  GO!

Until next time,
~ Hasky

Happiness and Health and ... Woody Allen?

Woody Allen once said: “You can live to be a hundred if you give up all the things that make you want to live to be a hundred.”   And as with most things Woody Allen, I absolutely agree.  Though Allen is arguably the master of turning pain and suffering into humor, I always find some thought-provoking reality in words.

I often think it is Allen's ability to capitalize on the absurdities of life that provoke laughter, even in his most cynical moments. And although so much of his work is dark and depressing, almost always self-defeating, and usually centered around death or the human instinct we all have to somehow escape from it, his quotes are so memorable and so timeless that the above graphic immediately brought the opening Allen quote to mind because, as usual, it so perfectly illustrates our never-ending belief that we can be happy or we can be healthy, but we can't be both at the same time. What's more, it is the effort we put into achieving a simultaneous kind of health&happiness that lends humor to the graphic and (at least in my opinion) makes pretty much every single Woody Allen line so laugh-out-loud funny.

Clearly the message above is - just eat the apple.  It's nature's medicine, it's not likely to create more problems than it solves (individual digestive system situations notwithstanding), and rather than treating a condition, it works to prevent many illnesses from occurring in the first place, if eaten on a regular basis.  In fact, a good friend of mine told me just last week that she read of a study where "healthy, middle-aged adults [consumed] one apple a day for four weeks [and] lowered blood levels of oxidized LDL - low density protein, the 'bad' cholesterol."  Sure, these same people could have lived apple-free lives, then turned to the latest cholesterol-lowering medications when their levels finally turned their bodies into living, breathing stroke risks. But what if, just this once, Woody Allen's statement wasn't entirely accurate?  What if we could actually live to be a hundred, not only despite indulging in all the things that made us want to live that long, but because of them?  Just some food for thought.



How do you combine pleasure and health to create your own individual "lifestyle"?  Do you consider things like massage, physical fitness, spending time in nature or engaging in artistic pursuits unnecessary indulgences? Are organic foods and regular vacations pure luxury items, or do you consider them part of your overall healthcare/self-care regime?  Feel free to share here!


And while we're at it, when was the last time you ate an apple?


Until next time,
~ Hasky

Ballet and Perspective

This morning, I woke up angry.  I don't know why, and I don't think the "why" matters.  It happens to all of us, I guess.  I was tired.  I was feeling burned out and stressed out and just plain tapped out.  And yes, anything and everything that could go wrong did, not only because I burned breakfast and had a coffee explosion and was dealing with a finicky dog and a traffic jam and a late arrival at work all before 9am, but because I simply woke up, as they say, "on the wrong side of the bed."

I don't know about you, but on days when I feel like that, I realize (once I calm myself and gain some perspective) that it wasn't really about "everything going wrong" so much as it was about my looking for things to support my bad mood and confirm it.  Yet the reality is - my Keurig isn't evil and my oven doesn't have it in for me.  My dog, challenging though he can be, bases his behavior on meeting his needs, and not some sinister plot to destroy me.  I can laugh about it now, this overblown sense that such minutiae really does signal the end of the world, but going through a morning like that can sometimes set the tone for the entire day.  If I let it. So there is some personal intention in "bad days" - the way we label them, the way we often revel in staying stuck in them, even in the way we often curl so comfortably inside our own familiar misery and refuse to come out.

But today when I got to work, there was a link to a Youtube video on my Facebook page.  It was of a little girl named Clara Bergs doing ballet.  Though I don't often watch the endless videos and movie clips that hit my various social media platforms every day, there was something striking about the look on this child's face - it was intense and inviting - so I clicked "play."  What struck me immediately was that little Clara was not just doing ballet the way most ten year-old little girls do ballet in their living rooms.  She was literally mirroring the choreography of a professional ballerina dancing the title role in Copelia.  What's more, Clara suffers from autism and the genetic disorder DiGeorge Syndrome and has spent her short life so far beating all medical odds about her predetermined capabilities.  She was so graceful, her movements so precisely times with the professional on the television screen that it was as if they were working together.  And I believe, in Clara's mind, that is precisely what they were doing.

As I watched, I felt my mood shift from the anger and exhaustion I had felt less than an hour before to something like contentment.  Inspiration.  Perspective.  And it wasn't about comparative pain, or about chastising myself for feeling my feelings or allowing myself to acknowledge my desire to hide away from the world for a day rather than face it.  It was about seeing such pure, uncomplicated beauty in a little girl whose life, at times, must be indescribably complicated and scary and challenging beyond belief.  I wish I could thank this little girl for reminding me, with her graceful love of something outside herself, that no matter what, your day - and your life - is really what you make it.

Thank you, beautiful little Clara.

Until next time,

~ Hasky

Thank you Jennifer Livingston

Few topics lend themselves to a "Lighten Up" theme as obviously as weight.  Body weight.  That thing we all measure on a little square box - otherwise known as the bathroom scale.  While some people profess to have not a single care about body image and express no concerns or anxieties about what or how they eat, what they weigh, or how their jeans fit, the reality is, for a lot of us, body weight and body image are heavy issues, and it doesn't help that we live in a world that prioritizes physical appearance over physical (and mental) health and wellness.

When the video of Wisconsin new anchor Jennifer Livingston went viral this week, the collective reaction seemed to be one of praise and gratitude. Yet a few days later, it became clear that there were just as many negative feelings about Ms. Livingston's response as there were positive ones.  After a viewer sent Ms. Livingston an email in which he referred to her as "fat" and "obese" and "a poor role model" -- an assessment he based purely on her physical appearance, with no regard to her profession or her status as a mother, wife, and professional --  Ms. Livingston used her on-air access to the public audience to respond to what she defined (and correctly so) as bullying.  And, more specifically, cyberbullying. On a personal level, I was grateful that she turned a discriminatory and disparaging email into a lesson - for her own young daughters, and for anyone who was watching.  And hopefully listening.  Ms. Livingston herself was the first to admit that though she is overweight, and that on a doctor's chart she would likely even fall into the "obese" category, this unsolicited email did nothing but state the obvious and seemed motivated by nothing more than an intent to harass and harm.  

Yet her response to it all was inspiring.  Rather than stay self-focused, she turned this moment into an opportunity to remind us all that October in the United States is both National Anti-Bullying Awareness Month and National Cyber Security Awareness Month. Finally, it seemed that someone - and a strong, articulate woman, at that  - was standing up not only to bullying, but to weight discrimination which, as someone recently pointed out to me, "is the last acceptable bigotry."  I would even argue that if "Fatism" isn't yet an accepted (though certainly not acceptable!) term, it should be.  Because it exists in ways that oppress and victimize millions of people every year, regardless of the numbers on their bathtoom scales or sewn into their clothing tags.  Fatism is at the root of many forms of violence and abuse, and even employers have admitted to hiring thin people more often than their overweight counterparts. What's more, shows like The Biggest Loser, while they seem well-intentioned, are so poorly titled, as if word play could somehow erase that deeply engrained societal message that fat = loser. And I don't buy arguments about "taking the word back to make it less damaging."  The day Oprah tried to do that with the word "Bitch" I vowed to never watch her show again. In the same way,  I believe that the word "loser" is always negative, no matter how much money you attach to the biggest loser of all at the end of the season.

Yet with all this talk about weight and speaking up and bullying and fighting the bully, I think the most disappointing thing to come out of this story has been the criticism of other media outlets and countless viewers who believe that Ms. Livingston blew this man's email out of proportion, misused her position as a public figure, and/or is simply in denial about the reality of her size.  When I hear comments like this, I often wonder if I am even watching and reading the same versions of things that other people appear to be referencing.  But clearly, we are all reading the same page, we just don't happen to all be on the same page
.

But here's the deal:  This woman is in a position of power.  And yes, she used that position to shed light on a serious issue that is neither about her nor about "fat" per se.  It is as much about the destructive power of words as it is about their empowerment. It is also about the fact that we live in a world often dictated by fears - some of which we can't even identify or define.  We are just fearful, on a global scale, of anything we do no understand or anything that feels personally threatening, either because it is so different from our own lives, or because it is too close for comfort and is forcing us to confront what we judge in ourselves.

But my ultimate question is this:  How many people, when given the chance, use their access and their power to speak about issues - whether or not they, themselves, are directly impacted - and how many of them choose the politically safe, non-boat-ricking alternative of silence and complacency instead?

So my only response to Ms. Livingston, after all this, is a very simple "Thank you."

Just something to think about until next time -

~~ Hasky

Emergency contraception: What's the real emergency here?

NYC schools give out morning-after pills to students — without telling parents

• 
  
• By SUSAN EDELMAN and CYNTHIA R. FAGEN
• Last Updated: 10:51 AM, September 24, 2012
• Posted: 12:29 AM, September 23, 2012

EXCLUSIVE

The Department of Education is giving morning-after pills and other birth-control drugs to students at 13 high schools, The Post has learned.

School nurse offices stocked with the contraceptives can dispense “Plan B” emergency contraception and other oral or injectable birth control to girls without telling their parents — unless parents opt out after getting a school informational letter about the new program.

CATCH — Connecting Adolescents To Comprehensive Health — is part of a citywide attack against the epidemic of teen pregnancy, which spurs many girls — most of them poor — to drop out of school.

Helayne Seidman

JUST SAY NO: Annette Palacios says that at 15 she’s too young for sex, while mom Pania laments not getting a parental opt-out letter.

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While Big Apple high schools have long supplied free condoms to sexually active teens, this is the first time city schools have dispensed hormonal birth control and Plan B, which can prevent pregnancy if taken up to 72 hours after unprotected sex.

It might be a nationwide first as well. The National Association of School Nurses could cite no other school district supplying Plan B.

So far, during an unpublicized pilot program in five city schools last year, 567 students received Plan B tablets and 580 students received Reclipsen birth-control pills, the city Department of Health told The Post.

This fall, students can also get Depo-Provera, a birth-control drug injected once every three months, officials said.

Oral and injectable contraceptives require prescriptions, which, in the CATCH program, are written by Health Department doctors.

Plan B is typically sold as an over-the-counter medication, but those under age 18 need a prescription. For the CATCH program, students can tell a trained school nurse they had unprotected sex. The student will then get a test to see if she is already pregnant; if not, the prescription is issued and she can walk out with the pill.

The city expanded CATCH to 14 schools with more than 22,000 students over the past year. Officials dropped one, Seward Park Campus in lower Manhattan, because CATCH was overwhelming the medical office.

Parents at the 14 schools were sent letters informing them about CATCH. Parents may bar their kids from getting pregnancy tests or contraceptives if they sign and return an opt-out statement.

If they do not, schools can confidentially give the contraception without permission.

An average 1 to 2 percent of parents at each school have returned the opt-out sheets, said DOH spokeswoman Alexandra Waldhorn.

At the High School of Fashion Industries in Chelsea, where 85 percent of the students are girls, ninth-graders were told about CATCH at summer orientation. Some welcomed it.

“I don’ t want to be a young kid who gets pregnant and can’t find a job,” one cautious freshman told The Post.

A 14-year-old pal agreed. “I would go to the nurse without telling my parents, and I would ask for help,” she said.

But sophomore Annette Palacios, 15, outside the school with her mom, said parents should give consent in case their children are “allergic” to the drugs.

“Girls shouldn’t be sexually active at that age,” she added.

Her mom, Pania, complained that she got no opt-out letter — and does not want Annette to secretly get Plan B or birth-control pills from the nurse.

“Parents should know if their daughter is pregnant,” she said.

Teacher Rosa Chavez applauded CATCH, saying she had two pregnant students last year. Getting knocked up, she said, “is not cool and not accepted among peers.”

But Chavez worries that giving girls Plan B emergency contraception might encourage careless sex. “If they made a mistake, they could still do something about it,” she said.

About 28 percent of city students entering ninth grade have already had sex, and more than half are sexually active before completing high school, according to city data.

But some school insiders dislike the CATCH program’s lack of parental involvement and fear medical complications.

“We can’t give out a Tylenol without a doctor’ s order,” said a school staffer. “Why should we give out hormonal preparations with far more serious possible side effects, such as blood clots and hypertension?”

The other CATCH schools are: Adlai Stevenson and Grace Dodge in The Bronx; Boys and Girls, Clara Barton, W.H. Maxwell Career and Technical Education, Abraham Lincoln and Paul Robeson in Brooklyn; John Adams, Newcomers, Queens Vocational and Technical, and Voyagers in Queens; and Port Richmond on Staten Island.

TEEN PREGNANCY COMPLICATIONS

7,000 girls under age 17 got pregnant last year citywide

90% of those pregnancies were unplanned

64% were aborted

2,200 became moms by age 17. About 70 percent drop out of school.

Source: NYC Department of Health

Rather than summarize the article I read with this morning's coffee, I decided to copy and paste it directly into this post.  And I have decided to refrain from commenting. For now.  And for several reasons.   First of all, I am not a parent.  What's more, I am not the parent of a teenage girl (though I tip my hat to anyone who is/has been/will be, given that I do recall myself at 13 and am often retroactively horrified by so much of my own 13 year-old girl behavior).  Second, I have pretty strong feelings about the meanings of "consent," and rather than dump them here and then ask "What do you think?" I decided I wanted to see what other people (parents and non-parents) thought first.

So I am just wondering - is providing this pill to young women the same as distributing condoms (the latter of which is already happening) to young men? Is there a sexual/gender-based imbalance here, in terms of girls vs. boys, when it comes to reproductive rights and resources?  Do we, as a culture, seem to monitor girls more closely because they are the carriers of these unborn children, and, at least statistically, continue to report almost triple the rates of sexual assault and rape than do their male counterparts?  Which is not to suggest that all teenage pregnancies are the result of rape, but which does then beg more questions, such as: What is consent?  Whose consent counts?  And how is it given?

Finally, do non-parents have any role or voice in this conversation at all?  Are we all responsible and accountable to  our youth, or is this the point at which such issues become a private matter between children and their parents, possibly their doctors, and maybe their schools?

What's the deal?  What's really happening?  What is birth control actually controlling? And what do you think about it?  

Til next time,

~ Hasky