Monthly Archives: January 2011

Calling All Teachers!

For those familiar with Paulo Freire’s book Pedagogy of the Oppressed (New York: Continuum, 1970), the story below illustrates the tragic results to the individual from a very personal perspective:

From Ch. 17, The New Physics of Childhood: Replacing Modern Myths with Simple Strategies (I-Universe, 2009)

“FOR TEACHERS

The following story of “La Niñita” is an introduction to what powerful influences teachers are in a child’s life:

La Niñita

‘I was five years old, I was in kindergarten. From the beginning, school became troublesome for me because I was always looking out the window, instead of listening to my teacher. One day, while daydreaming of wonderful things, I had a fabulous idea.

After school, I ran home to work on my big project, a special play for my class. I felt happy because this play had a part for all of my classmates, leaving no one out. That was the most important thing.

I worked hard that weekend. I made costumes for my classmates out of paper bags my mother gave me. Mommy smiled. She was proud of my play and my costumes. I was a big girl now, I was in kindergarten.

Monday morning, I walked to school with all of the costumes wrapped and folded into two big paper bags. I ran to my teacher. I showed her my project. I told her all of my classmates were in the play!

My teacher’s face was like a stone, she did not look at my costumes and she did not look at me, she just stated, “We don’t do that here.”

Those five shocking words put much of my innocent and uninhibited creativity to sleep that day, changing my life forever. Just five words, five powerful words loomed in the back of my subconscious from that moment on.

Thirty-two years later, then a woman of thirty-seven, I created, acted, produced, and directed a production, purposely to include the forgotten teenagers in my community. These teens had no place to go or activities to enjoy. At the end of the production, I stood on the stage with these forgotten teenagers and in a flash, remembered that moment from my past.

The feelings were very intense as I finally manifested my dream as a five year old! Without realizing it, I had started to heal that wound from my childhood.

Today, I acknowledge that it will take many years of work to return to the uninhibited creative state I experienced as a five year old. Being around children helps me remember. For me, this is the beginning.’

Imagine what could have become of not only this little girl, but countless others, if she had had the support from the adults in her life to pursue her interests. She needed so little, just awareness and sensitivity on the part of the adults in her life, the parents and teachers who missed the opportunity to nurture her creative potential. Please choose your words carefully and take care not to do this to any child. Our precious children need the adults in their lives to help them blossom into whatever they are supposed to become. When adults recognize the signs and provide them with a supportive environment, children can create a world in ways only they can imagine.” by Christina Ivazes, aka Granny Pants

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Filed under Books, children, Education, mentor, Myths, Parenting, teaching, The New Physics of Childhood, Writing

Food Banks: Highly underrated

POTAGE DE LAITUE

by Christina Ivazes 

Movie stars, millionaires, and well-known musicians of Mommy’s past were light years from that moment as she leaned over the grocery store dumpster with resolve, pulling out rotting vegetables she called “treasures.”  In a subtle paradox, there was not a hint of disgust in her facial expressions while even the non-descript clothing draped over her tall, lithe body could hide that she had once been a radiant beauty.

Roanne Lindquist

My mother seemed accustomed then to what hipsters would later call “Dumpster Diving.” I felt peculiar, silently watching a human being—my own mother—forage for food in a dumpster. However bizarre, nothing would spoil this rare moment to have Mommy all to myself. Earlier that morning before our adventure, I was both surprised and thrilled when she chose me, the eldest of her five children, to go “shopping.”

As if she discovered exactly what she’d been seeking, Mommy pulled a box out from under other refuse, blurting, “Voila!” My eight years of life experience couldn’t fathom the usefulness of this “treasure,” a box full of brown, slimy wilted heads of lettuce. Nevertheless, she plopped the box into the trunk of her mint green 1956 Dodge and we drove home.

Now there’s another confusing term. Even today at fifty-two, “home” is wherever I am laying my head to sleep on any given night. It’s hard to erase the patterns of an entire childhood. Until I got married at sixteen, we usually didn’t live anywhere for longer than a few weeks or months; all of our belongings fitting into the trunk of our car. cvb

At this particular juncture, our two-week home was a motel room with kitchenette on Huntington Boulevard, not far from Disneyland. Perhaps this earliest cooking recollection was where my kitchen creativity began.

I remember Mommy speaking to me like her apprentice, “First Christie; you have to remove the outer leaves.” Like disclosing an ancient secret, she peeled back the rotten layers to reveal a miniature, yet perfect head of lettuce.

I was in awe. How did she know this stuff? It was like she knew this lettuce was behind that specific grocery store, and we didn’t even have to pay for it! How absurd that people actually threw away good food. Yep! One man’s junk is another man’s treasure.

Inspired this new apprenticeship, I devotedly dropped slimy outer layers of lettuce into the other half of the wooden produce box sitting beneath me. It was only the white flesh remaining we would use.

While I worked, Mommy started her preparations by pulling out a huge, white soup pot. Regardless of what else we left behind, every time we moved to a new location Mommy still had to figure out how to feed seven people three times a day, every day. It puzzles me that I was completely unaware of her gargantuan challenges at the time. She never complained about these seemingly impossible tasks. She just plodded along until they were done whether it was cooking or laundry or packing everything up, once again.

More garbage than food remained after removing the inedible parts. Next Mommy showed me how to wash the soiled heads under cool water, taking care to remove any residue. I was thrilled when this final cleaning process revealed sparkling little gems of iceberg lettuce, juicy and fresh.

But another surprise ensued when Mommy removed the hard cores from each of my gems. She cut them in fourths, and dropped the quarters into the big pot of boiling water. My hard work ruined! Now the lettuce would be wilted again. “You didn’t cook lettuce!” I thought, never daring to speak my mind.

mastering renchAs planned, Mommy read her faithful cookbook: Julia Child’s, MASTERING THE ART OF FRENCH COOKING while I observed with scepticism. She demonstrated how to add salt and pepper and other ingredients I can’t recall today. Finally, I became receptive when she explained; “This is a French recipe Christie. They serve it in the finest restaurants.”

Soon, my brother, three sisters and I sat down to eat, watching Mommy ladle Potage de Laitue into our bowls. I don’t remember where our father was; probably out looking for work. My empty stomach was anxious to fill up on this unique creation, yet I cautiously tested the broth; still in disbelief that it was possible to make soup from lettuce.

It was delicious! Silently, we sipped her delicate, creamy soup. Mommy’s eyes lit up. Even mismatched spoons and bowls of different sizes and colors couldn’t diminish the pride in her work as we hastily finished and asked for more. I felt proud too.

After being raised in Woodside, California, one of America’s wealthiest communities, Mommy never alluded to the tragedy or humiliation of life events that plunged her into this poverty. (Tidbits of information from relatives through the years have given me clues to deeper thoughts and feelings that must have played through her mind that day.)

For that moment in our tiny motel room, like so many other moments, Mommy didn’t focus on what could have been. She had just successfully fed her five children—a la Julia Child no less—in a feat transcending wealth and glamour. Nothing was more important to her than us kids and we knew it.

While relishing our miraculous meal, I reflected on my amazing mother and the story of Stone Soup I had just heard in school. You could make a meal with scant ingredients. A good cookbook helps too. Today, I often send a prayer of thanks to Julia Child for giving my mother dignity in her darkest moments. And even though my mother escaped this daily suffering with her premature death at thirty-five, I send a prayer to her for giving me the gifts of determination, a positive attitude and an undying resourcefulness, no matter what may face me at any given moment.

Perhaps that is why when someone tells me, “There is nothing to cook,” I know better!

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Filed under children, cooking, culinary, mother, nutrition, Parenting, Recession, Roanne+Lindquist

2010 in review

The stats helper monkeys at WordPress.com mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:

Healthy blog!

The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads This blog is on fire!.

Crunchy numbers

Featured image

A Boeing 747-400 passenger jet can hold 416 passengers. This blog was viewed about 6,500 times in 2010. That’s about 16 full 747s.

In 2010, there were 12 new posts, growing the total archive of this blog to 32 posts. There were 101 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 28mb. That’s about 2 pictures per week.

The busiest day of the year was January 7th with 98 views. The most popular post that day was A True Cultural and Culinary Adventure.

Where did they come from?

The top referring sites in 2010 were facebook.com, stumbleupon.com, mail.live.com, WordPress Dashboard, and en.wordpress.com.

Some visitors came searching, mostly for jane goodall, twitter, things you should know but probably don’t, twitter bird, and jane goodall pictures.

Attractions in 2010

These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.

1

A True Cultural and Culinary Adventure January 2010
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2

Jane Goodall-A Contemporary Perspective from A Timeless Advocate! November 2009
2 comments

3

10 Things You Need to Know But Probably Don’t Want to Hear! February 2010
3 comments

4

A New Year’s Eve Surprise a la “Tina” January 2010
9 comments

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