Lights Out!

Lights Out!

“To bed, to bed, said sleepy-head. Good night, good night, turn off the light.” My father chanted this every evening when ushering his children to bed. We went to bed early. I remember many a summer evening lying in my darkened room listening to my friends still playing outside. 

My parents knew that children need a lot of sleep. So every evening, they drew the curtains early and tucked us in. Recent studies support my parents’ early-to-bed policy for young children. Young children need ten to twelve hours a night for optimal functioning. But many children resist going to bed.

In an article in The New York Times, Perry Klass, M.D.  reports on a sleep study conducted at the University of Colorado with children ages three to five. They found that children’s eyes are more sensitive to light and that exposure to bright light in the hour before bedtime causes children to resist sleep: “Just a short exposure of bright light may suppress melatonin and shut down [its] sleep-promoting effect.” In other words, exposing children’s eyes to bright light before bedtimes triggers wakefulness, not sleep.

Researchers found that bright lights wake up the eye and the brain. They suggest turning down the lights an hour before bedtime to trigger melatonin and sleepiness. Children often get out of bed to ask for water or a bathroom visit. Bright light at this time can trigger wakefulness too. So parents should limit light inside and outside of the bedroom at bedtimes to make sure that children get to bed and stay there. Nightlights should be kept low to the ground away from eye level. 

Screen-viewing also triggers wakefulness. Watching TV or playing video games can keep children from falling asleep.  A bedtime story read by a parent or soft music playing in the bedroom induce sleepiness. Regular bedtime routines are vital. Children should go to bed a “regular consistent bedtime, even on weekends… early enough so that they get all the sleep they need.” 

To promote sleep, calm them down, don’t rev them up. Have a regular bedtime routine to help your children prepare to rest.  Turn down all the lights. Clean up both bodies and rooms. Put on the pajamas. Snuggle up with a good book. Tuck them in and kiss them goodnight. Then exit with the intention of preparing for bed yourselves. Let children know that everyone needs to sleep. It is an important part of family life and vital for good health. Let the whole house be ready for “sleepy-time.”

My parents knew that “sleepy-heads” were not productive or pleasant so they made sure that we got the rest we needed. They also needed restful evenings (after all they had six children) to be a couple in love. Set your clocks and turn down the lights for consistent bedtimes for your children. 

Happy children and happy parents sleep long and well.  

Missing Cousins

Missing Cousins

Recently, I attended a memorial service for one of my cousins. Many spoke of his generosity, his commitment to helping others, and his love for his family. His cousins remembered adventures they had shared. Laughter mixed with our tears. Cousins share a special bond.

We spent a lot of time with our cousins when we were young — and we had lots of cousins! Since we moved often, my siblings and I lodged with cousins while our parents packed up old homes and unpacked in new ones. We ate together, played together, attended church and school together, and slept together. 

By age three, I was the oldest of three. One March, my mother’s sister was visiting with her three children (oldest aged four), when a blizzard struck. We hunkered down sleeping in playpens, on couches, and doubling up in cribs. I barely remember the storm but I will never forget holding my cousin’s hand as we drifted off to sleep.

Every summer, we created a village of cousins in our bungalow community near the Great South Bay. Often, strange children would knock on the door claiming to be cousins. We absorbed them quickly into our plans as we dug for buried treasure, wiggled our toes in the sand to find clams, fished for blowfish in the bay, gathered beach grass, sailed across the seas in beached boats, and sat around the fire as the sun set. We listened to grandparents, aunts, and uncles, and great-aunts and great-uncles tell family stories. Their shared memories became ours.

I spent time in each of my close cousins’ homes. I will never forget the epic nosebleed I suffered when spending a week with one set of cousins or the never-ending game of Monopoly played when staying with another set. One imaginative cousin created epic stories told in the early morning hours as the sun rose. I searched for rainbows and watched the sun go down with many others.

Children of my generation share many memories with cousins. As I said, we had lots of them. My children and their cousins share memories too. But I worry about the latest generation’s connections to their cousins. As families separate for jobs and opportunities, many children live far from cousins. How will they connect?

My own cousins live far from me now. We stay in touch through new technologies but our adventures are separate now. Nevertheless, we share a special bond. We share our joys and sorrows. Our tears mix with our laughter. I hope that this latest generation of cousins, though separated by miles, will find ways to make memories too. 

Memorial services are times for memories. Our shared memories shaped the people we became. Author Justin Cronin wrote: "As long as we remember a person, they're not really gone. Their thoughts, their feelings, their memories, they become a part of us.” 

Cousins never forget cousins. My cousins are a part of me. Our memories hold us close.

Merry Mess

Merry Mess

Regan plopped down on a desk to take inventory. Her feet hurt, her head was swimming and whatever she had eaten at the party tickled her stomach in a most disagreeable way. Paper, ribbons and crumbled cookies decorated the floor. The tree was a shambles — ornaments ripped from its branches in the mad rush out the door. How could such chaos reign at an alcohol-free party? Regan resolved to find a new job in the new year.

Regan flipped the music from holiday favorites to calming jazz. Gathering her last shred of energy, she began to clean-up. Many willing hands helped decorate but not one remained. She didn’t blame them. Dismantling is less compelling than creating. 

The trash can and recycling bin soon filled. Now for the tree. It was a small one and Regan started to drop it back into its box lights and all. As she picked it up, something fell from its branches — an envelope, covered in glitter.

“To Ms. Cranmer.” Opening it, Regan found a hand-drawn card. The cover showed a boy with wild hair, huge eyes, and a smile as bright as the star on the tree. 

Inside she read, 

“You make me happy. Love, Doug.”

Doug.  How he tried Regan’s patience! 

A dreamer. 

A forgetter of gloves. 

A waster of paper, a dropper of markers, a dripper of glue. 

He doodled, he hummed, and he never remembered to raise his hand. 

His smile and the smiles of his classmates were worth all the trouble and mess. 

Regan glanced at her screensaver, a quote from Shirley Jackson: “Am I walking toward something I should be running away from?” 

Tucking the card into her bag full of heartfelt first-grader gifts, she knew the answer. 

LMC

12/22/17

The Third Hand

The Third Hand 

When I was growing up, I always had hands to hold. The first two hands were the hands of my parents. The third hand was the hand of my brother Joe. 

Joseph arrived seventeen months after I did. I have no memories of life without him. Even though he was followed by four more siblings, his presence was most constant in my life. He crawled into the cradle the day I moved up to a crib. He jumped into the crib when I climbed into the youth bed (the kind with rails) and took my place there when I moved again to a “big girl bed.” 

Joseph was a quiet kid — in direct contrast to his older sister. He didn’t say much because I took care of most conversation. Leading him by the hand, I herded him away from danger as he wandered happily along in his cloud of imagination, a wistful smile on his face.

My family moved a lot. My parents held our hands most times, but often we were asked to hold the hands of grandparents, aunts, and uncles. The transfers went smoothly for me because my other hand was always firmly fastened to Joe’s. We took home with us wherever we went. No need to be homesick. We had each other.

Joseph and I moved through grade school and into high school with me still blazing the trail and Joe helping me clear it. Even though we had different interests, I sang in the choir while Joe played in the band, Joe loved baseball and I left the room when the game came on; we shared values and experiences which held us together. We still do.

As I grew, I held other hands. Four more siblings, Paul, Maria, Carla, and Michael, rounded out our family. Our hands intertwined in happy and not-so-happy times. One by one we let go of our parents’ hands and each other’s as we stepped out into the larger world. We grasped other hands as we formed families of our own. 

So many hands join us together now — spouses, children, nieces and nephews, grandchildren —their grip holding hearts close. Our hearts hold us together in times of joy and sorrow. Love binds us.

There is only one requirement for holding hands. You must reach out. Babies do it in the cradle. Toddlers do it when they take their first tottering steps. Young adults drop parents’ hands for a while but eventually, they reach back to hold tight to Mom’s and Dad’s. We reach out with heart and hands to lovers, friends, and children. When hands fall away, we hold memories of them in our hearts. 

Joe’s hand is far away now but I hold it in my heart. I hold my father’s, my mother’s, my siblings’, my husband’s, my children’s, and my friends’ whenever I reach out to others with love. 

Many hands go unheld. Hands are for holding. Hearts are for loving. Reach out and grasp both.

Freedom From Fear

The Four Freedoms

Freedom from Fear

Fourth in a series

In the musical “Fiddler on the Roof,” Tevye lives in a Jewish settlement in Czarist Russia. The village Jews and the Russias maintain a tenuous peace until the greater world interferes.

In 1941, President Franklin Roosevelt made his “Four Freedoms” speech. The freedoms included Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Worship, and Freedom from Want — “everywhere in the world.” Roosevelt’s fourth freedom was: “The freedom from fear — which translated into world terms, means a world-wide reduction of armaments to such a point and in such a thorough fashion that no nation will be in a position to commit an act of physical aggression against any neighbor — anywhere in the world. 

That is no vision of a distant millennium. It is a definite basis for a kind of world attainable in our time and generation. That kind of world is the very antithesis of the so-called new order of tyranny which the dictators seek to create with the crash of a bomb.”

In 1941, Europe was at war. Dictators seeking a new world order wielded weapons which could obliterate borders and decimate populations. Americans feared being drawn into the conflict. Roosevelt knew that no nation would be safe until every nation committed to peace.

Roosevelt’s speech inspired painter Norman Rockwell. His painting “Freedom from Fear” shows parents tucking sleeping children into bed. Rockwell’s paintings inspired essays which expanded Roosevelt’s vision. 

Poet and novelist Stephen Vincent Benet wrote “Fear has walked at man’s heels through many ages….” Humanity fought disease, enslavement, hunger, and nature to assure safety for its children.” No single person succeeded in relieving fear; it took many people working over many years to secure and re-secure freedom from fear.

By 1941, the world had gotten smaller. Where once people could secure peace in their own corner of the world, new technologies allowed invading powers to easily destroy that peace. Benet wrote: “It is not enough to say, ‘Here, in our country we are strong. Let the rest of the world sink or swim. We can take care of ourselves’… No man can do it alone. No nation can do it alone. It must be all men.” 

The world is even smaller today. Does Roosevelt’s vision hold true? Can all parents put sleeping children to bed without fear? Are we working together to guarantee freedom from fear in all nations?

In “Fiddler on the Roof,” Tevye and his friends gather to celebrate his daughter’s betrothal in a community gathering place. Local Russians join the celebration, toasting Tevye, and wishing that, “We may live together in peace!” That peace is shattered when greater powers interfere. 

People everywhere want peace. Benet concludes his essay with these words: “Real peace will not be won with one victory. It can be won only by long determination, firm resolve, and a wish to share and work with other men, no matter what their race or creed or condition.” 

Have we the firm resolve to work together to ensure freedom from fear — “everywhere in the world?”

(FDR’s full speech (voicesofdemocracy.umd.edu),Rockwell’s paintings, and Benet’s essay (www.saturdayeveningpost.com) are available online. I encourage you to find them.)

Freedom from Want

The Four Freedoms

Freedom From Want

Third in a series

When imagining an iconic Thanksgiving feast, many Americans picture either the Pilgrims in 1620 or Norman Rockwell’s illustration of “Freedom from Want.” Both images celebrate abundance. Rockwell’s painting was a reflection of one of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s “Four Freedoms” speech of January 1941. In Rockwell’s painting, a woman places a large turkey on the table in front of her family. 

Roosevelt made his speech when many Americans feared being drawn into the war raging in Europe. His first freedom was Freedom of Speech, the second was Freedom of Worship. “The third is Freedom from Want — which, translated into world terms, means economic understandings which will secure to every nation a healthy peacetime life for its inhabitants-everywhere in the world.”

Less famous than Rockwell’s paintings are the essays which accompanied them. Carlos Bulosan, a Filipino novelist and labor organizer in the U.S., wrote the essay for “Freedom from Want.” He raised several questions for the nation. 

Bulosan wrote that the history of the United States was one of labor and freedom. He wrote that the “march toward security is the march of freedom,” and that everyone “should like to become a living part of it. It is the dignity of the individual to live in a society of free men, where the spirit of understanding and belief exist; of understanding that all men are equal; that all men, whatever their color, race, religion, or estate, should be given equal opportunity to serve themselves and each other according to their needs and abilities.” 

Freedom from want was out of reach for many: “It is only when we have plenty to eat — plenty of everything — that we begin to understand what freedom means.” When people are hungry, they cannot be healthy, creative, or useful. People in want are people living in fear. People living in fear are targets for “the powers of darkness.”

Bulosan wrote this essay while the darker powers of fascism and imperialism threatened the world. What powers of darkness threaten our world today? Are people still hungry? Are people still fearful? Are all people given equal opportunity? Is a spirit of understanding cultivated? Are all people awarded the dignity they deserve? If we want to secure freedom, can we deny any people, as Roosevelt stated, freedom from want? Can any nation be free when some are not?

The Pilgrims celebrated surviving a cruel winter of starvation and death. Rockwell’s Thanksgiving table shows a large turkey but spare offerings of side dishes and only water to drink. Each Thanksgiving was only a step away from want. 

Bulosan wrote, “It is a great honor to walk on the American earth… We are the living dream of dead men [the founders]. We are the living spirit of free men… We are the sufferers who suffer for natural love of man for another man, who commemorate the humanities of every man. We are the creators of abundance.” 

When we celebrate abundance, we must never forget our obligation to relieve the sufferings of others. 

(FDR’s full speech (voicesofdemocracy.umd.edu),Rockwell’s paintings, and Bulosan’s essay (www.saturdayeveningpost.com) are available online. I encourage you to find them.)

The Peace and the Promise

The Peace and the Promise

Every morning of my teaching career, our school day started with a moment of silence and the Pledge to the Flag — a moment of peace and a moment of promise. 

Getting a bunch of excited children settled for a busy day is a difficult task; getting them to stand silently for a long moment is doubly tough. At our first morning meeting, I’d ask my second graders to tell me about the moment of silence.

“It’s a time when we stand up without talking,” was the usual consensus. 

I asked them what they could do while standing and not talking. After a few suggestions about breathing, wiggling, or looking around, some student would always say, “We can think.”

“What can we think about?”

 Answers ran from favorite games to family pets to plans for the weekend. 

“Could we use the time to think about a goal we might have, something we were thankful for, or some way we could help someone?” 

Before I finished the question, hands were waving.

“I want to finish all my work on time,” said one.

“I can help my mom with my baby brother. He’s a mess,” said another.

“I am thankful for my best friend,” said a third.

One after another, the ideas flowed. So many wonderful plans for such a short moment of quiet: a time of reflection; a time of planning; a time of thanksgiving. 

After making a list of our great ideas, we’d talk about the Pledge to the Flag. I explained that a pledge is a promise. The flag is a symbol of our country — a country united by a mutual respect for its citizens’ right to freedom (liberty) and fairness (justice). Children understand promises — they know you have to keep them. They understand fairness — giving each person an equal share.

Liberty was discussed a length. What freedoms do we have in your family? What freedoms do you have in this class? In this school? In your community? In our country? Each question brought more questions, more answers, and more understanding. When we pledge together, we promise to stand up for one another with a common purpose.

Finally, we connected the moment of silence with our pledge. During our quiet moments, we can make plans; we can remember good times; we can be thankful. After we think about good things for ourselves, we pledge to make good things available to everyone — liberty and justice for all. Our moment of peace leads to our moment of promise.

While my students stood in peace and promised to stand for one another in purpose, I studied each little face wondering what they were thinking and where they would go. What great things would they do? Would they fulfill the promise of their lives? Would they help others?

It was a great way to start each day. It is what every child needs and every child deserves — peace and a promise.