Who knew McDonald’s play land would be the site of my child’s first informal education on some intriguing adult subjects. One minute she and her friends were slipping on the slides, the next minute she was getting an earful of confusing information about her favorite childhood idols.
Her “teacher” was another little girl, smart and kindhearted, who had been educated by her friend, who had been schooled by her teenage sister who found the gossip on the internet. So it goes. News travels fast among the young and curious who have access to virtually endless information online.
While I regret that my child heard some of this, the experience offered a timely reminder about the world in which children are growing.
Humans have been educating and corrupting each other since the beginning of time. I learned an awful lot from my friends as a kid, good and bad.
The big difference is back then our steamiest source of information was Judy Bloom books that we snuck in the library to read juicy details about puberty. My childhood idols were Mary Ingalls, Marcia Brady and Charlie’s Angels.
Today’s children swim in a sea of popular culture dominated by sex, violence, pornography, gossip and materialism -- all of it available in graphic video just a click away on a handheld device.
Sadly, our children’s youth and innocence are drowning in this sea, and often the death is occurring on our watch in our very own homes.
Our community has had extensive conversations and initiatives aimed at improving how we feed our kids. But I wonder, are we worried enough as parents about how we feed the minds of our children through the movies, video games, music and online information they consume every day?
I was talking recently with a mom, Laurie, who is in the throws of raising teenagers on the East Coast. She piqued my interest in the hottest teen show called, “Gossip Girls.” It’s “Desperate Housewives” for teens.
Last week’s storyline followed characters at their elite New York City high school as they talked about “makeup sex,” attended cocktail parties and plotted to ruin each other by posting sex tapes on the internet.
Laurie and her husband watched an episode with their kids and decided they could find better entertainment. The teens moaned and complained, “ALL our friends get to watch it.”
So, Laurie called the other parents and asked if they’d seen the show. None of them had. “Sit down next week and watch it with them,” she urged.
I like this approach. First, the parents are aware of potential problems because they monitor their kids’ entertainment. Second, they set boundaries and standards, explaining inappropriate material and offering alternatives. Third, they talk to other parents – not condemning but suggesting they might want to make an informed decision.
The first line of defense is parents, but others can provide valuable support. Bismarck’s Charity Lutheran Church is tackling this issue with discussions about purity. The program is aimed at teaching “tweens” that what they choose to put into their minds -- via music, movies, books, Internet sites and video games -- affects the way they think and act.
It’s a great program that provides a framework for parents to reinforce at home.
I can get easily overwhelmed by the challenges of raising children today. The world is a constantly changing sea of tantalizing high-tech hazards and I feel ill-equipped at times to compete.
But I’m reminded and encouraged that the tools we have as parents, if we use them together, can be extremely effective. Be aware, set boundaries, communicate openly with kids starting when they are tiny, and form alliances with other parents and adults.
These are our life vests and we must use them diligently to keep our kids afloat.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Sunny Getaway = Happy Parents
Fresh back from a five-day sojourn in Southern Florida, I’m listening to blizzard warnings on the television and searching my skin for any remaining evidence that I was recently near the equator.
I’m also trying to remember what it was like sweating in the sun just a few days ago. I can see myself lying in that lounge chair. If only the wind would quit howling I might be able to recapture the feeling too.
This was the first vacation without kids for my husband Mike and I since we gave birth to our first seven years ago. We daydreamed about these five carefree days for months. The righteous indignation of our kids made the anticipation even sweeter. How dare we travel to the beach without them. “NO FAIR,” they complained.
You’re right – it isn’t fair, we taunted back. Whoooo hooo!!!!
We left them in the capable hands of my 23-year-old niece Amy, and stocked her with four gallons of milk, 3 dozen eggs, 24 yogurts, a freezer full of meals, pre-arranged play dates and car pools, schedules, charts and phone numbers for reinforcements.
What she lacked in experience and parental wisdom she would certainly make up for in energy, we reasoned. She agreed to the job without negotiating her fee first. Take Away Lesson Number One for Amy.
When we called her from the Minneapolis airport on our flight out, she was trying to squash a meal-time rebellion. Take Away Lesson Number Two was taking root: Do not rush to have children.
This one meal probably delayed Amy’s childbearing days by about a decade. But she handled it like a real pro and did what any seasoned mom would do. She created a chart, titled it, “Report to Parents” and decorated it with sad faces.
Here’s how she described her first meal: “E got up from the table several times while eating to do karate and yell. All three kids yelling even when repeatedly asked to stop. E and N repeatedly putting faces into pizza and laughing when told to stop. The youngest gave me two thumbs down and said, ‘Amy, you’re this!’”
Her final remark: “Supper = disaster.”
On the other end of the phone in Minneapolis, I searched for some helpful tip to make things better, but my mind was already on the beach. “Show them who’s boss, Amy,” I encouraged before dashing onto the plane to Miami.
On the jet way I remembered Mike’s warning to her the day before. “Amy, you know how there are times in life where five days just flies by and you think to yourself, man where did that time go?” he said.
“Yeah,” she responded cheerfully.
“Well … this isn’t going to be one of those times. The days are going to go reeeeaaaaal slooooooow.”
For us, on the other hand, the days dissolved faster than a bite of cotton candy. What an escape from the responsibilities of work and family, from cold weather and daily routines. By the second day, everyone on the trip was holding hands and snuggling -- not necessarily something that happens spontaneously after wrestling with kids and work all day.
We talked without interruption and broke all the rules -- stayed up late, slept in, ordered adult food, drank Pina Coladas in the afternoon (I think it was after noon), and read chapter books of our own choice.
The sun and heat were great, but the biggest takeaway from the trip was remembering how much I like my husband.
With a benefit like that, we won’t wait seven years to arrange another “unfair” getaway, if only to Minot. That is if we can convince an unsuspecting babysitter like Amy to make it possible.
I’m also trying to remember what it was like sweating in the sun just a few days ago. I can see myself lying in that lounge chair. If only the wind would quit howling I might be able to recapture the feeling too.
This was the first vacation without kids for my husband Mike and I since we gave birth to our first seven years ago. We daydreamed about these five carefree days for months. The righteous indignation of our kids made the anticipation even sweeter. How dare we travel to the beach without them. “NO FAIR,” they complained.
You’re right – it isn’t fair, we taunted back. Whoooo hooo!!!!
We left them in the capable hands of my 23-year-old niece Amy, and stocked her with four gallons of milk, 3 dozen eggs, 24 yogurts, a freezer full of meals, pre-arranged play dates and car pools, schedules, charts and phone numbers for reinforcements.
What she lacked in experience and parental wisdom she would certainly make up for in energy, we reasoned. She agreed to the job without negotiating her fee first. Take Away Lesson Number One for Amy.
When we called her from the Minneapolis airport on our flight out, she was trying to squash a meal-time rebellion. Take Away Lesson Number Two was taking root: Do not rush to have children.
This one meal probably delayed Amy’s childbearing days by about a decade. But she handled it like a real pro and did what any seasoned mom would do. She created a chart, titled it, “Report to Parents” and decorated it with sad faces.
Here’s how she described her first meal: “E got up from the table several times while eating to do karate and yell. All three kids yelling even when repeatedly asked to stop. E and N repeatedly putting faces into pizza and laughing when told to stop. The youngest gave me two thumbs down and said, ‘Amy, you’re this!’”
Her final remark: “Supper = disaster.”
On the other end of the phone in Minneapolis, I searched for some helpful tip to make things better, but my mind was already on the beach. “Show them who’s boss, Amy,” I encouraged before dashing onto the plane to Miami.
On the jet way I remembered Mike’s warning to her the day before. “Amy, you know how there are times in life where five days just flies by and you think to yourself, man where did that time go?” he said.
“Yeah,” she responded cheerfully.
“Well … this isn’t going to be one of those times. The days are going to go reeeeaaaaal slooooooow.”
For us, on the other hand, the days dissolved faster than a bite of cotton candy. What an escape from the responsibilities of work and family, from cold weather and daily routines. By the second day, everyone on the trip was holding hands and snuggling -- not necessarily something that happens spontaneously after wrestling with kids and work all day.
We talked without interruption and broke all the rules -- stayed up late, slept in, ordered adult food, drank Pina Coladas in the afternoon (I think it was after noon), and read chapter books of our own choice.
The sun and heat were great, but the biggest takeaway from the trip was remembering how much I like my husband.
With a benefit like that, we won’t wait seven years to arrange another “unfair” getaway, if only to Minot. That is if we can convince an unsuspecting babysitter like Amy to make it possible.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Simple Principles Keep ND Healthy
A few national reporters are looking curiously at North Dakota these days, wondering how this obscure, little state is avoiding the economic devastation that’s occurring from sea to shining sea.
“Maybe we could learn something from North Dakota?” they have asked.
As a matter of fact, they probably could.
While most states are trying to patch up their bleeding bodies with band aids of stimulus dollars, North Dakotans are debating ways to responsibly use or even save the millions in federal money that, frankly, we don’t need.
It’s easy to dismiss North Dakota’s success in one word: oil. But it isn’t that simple. If oil was the core of our success, our economy would have plummeted right along with oil prices in the last six months.
It hasn’t. So what’s going on here? High demand for energy, strong commodity prices, and a construction boom has certainly bolstered our economy. But two other major factors, fully within our control, are stabilizing North Dakota’s economy and they offer some timeless lessons for the rest of the nation.
First, North Dakota banks and financial institutions didn’t partake in the lending schemes that have destroyed housing markets and financial systems in nearly every other state. As one Bismarck car dealer told the New York Times in December, “We don’t do those goofy loans here.”
Our banks and consumers largely bypassed the tempting new products on the market, following instead traditional, proven lending methods. This has made an enormous difference in North Dakota.
By avoiding the mortgage disaster, our financial sector remains healthy and able to provide the stabile financial foundation that fuels our businesses and shoulders our economy.
The lesson is a simple one: If it seems too good to be true, it is. Home ownership is an awesome goal, but it can’t be achieved by simply lowering lending standards. Three cheers for North Dakota’s sensible, conservative bankers and home buyers.
Another key factor that is largely going unnoticed is the stability of our government. This isn’t just an accident or dumb luck. It’s the result of diligent elected leaders who have set priorities and made tough choices.
For years, we have elected people who have been good stewards of our resources, using economic growth to fuel government growth not the opposite.
Most importantly, our leaders have paid careful attention to funding government that is affordable not just in good times, but bad. In 2007, legislators rejected $550 million in new spending programs that would have further increased the baseline cost of government and devoured a bulk of today’s budget surplus.
They also returned millions back to taxpayers and saved millions more in a state “rainy day” fund.
This too is a simple lesson: live within your means. It’s a rule our elected leaders have followed that’s paying big dividends for all of us.
North Dakota citizens reflect this same principle every day. It’s why most people here don’t lease fancy cars they can’t afford just to make themselves look good. It’s why I’ve never seen a “foreclosed” sign on a house in my city.
It’s why twice in the last two weeks I’ve learned of friends who secured a second job to pay for a vacation or home improvements rather than going into debt.
North Dakota isn’t completely immune from the economic crisis, but the strength of our financial system, the stability of our government and the sensibility of our citizens give us a fighting chance to escape the worst of it.
“Maybe we could learn something from North Dakota?” they have asked.
As a matter of fact, they probably could.
While most states are trying to patch up their bleeding bodies with band aids of stimulus dollars, North Dakotans are debating ways to responsibly use or even save the millions in federal money that, frankly, we don’t need.
It’s easy to dismiss North Dakota’s success in one word: oil. But it isn’t that simple. If oil was the core of our success, our economy would have plummeted right along with oil prices in the last six months.
It hasn’t. So what’s going on here? High demand for energy, strong commodity prices, and a construction boom has certainly bolstered our economy. But two other major factors, fully within our control, are stabilizing North Dakota’s economy and they offer some timeless lessons for the rest of the nation.
First, North Dakota banks and financial institutions didn’t partake in the lending schemes that have destroyed housing markets and financial systems in nearly every other state. As one Bismarck car dealer told the New York Times in December, “We don’t do those goofy loans here.”
Our banks and consumers largely bypassed the tempting new products on the market, following instead traditional, proven lending methods. This has made an enormous difference in North Dakota.
By avoiding the mortgage disaster, our financial sector remains healthy and able to provide the stabile financial foundation that fuels our businesses and shoulders our economy.
The lesson is a simple one: If it seems too good to be true, it is. Home ownership is an awesome goal, but it can’t be achieved by simply lowering lending standards. Three cheers for North Dakota’s sensible, conservative bankers and home buyers.
Another key factor that is largely going unnoticed is the stability of our government. This isn’t just an accident or dumb luck. It’s the result of diligent elected leaders who have set priorities and made tough choices.
For years, we have elected people who have been good stewards of our resources, using economic growth to fuel government growth not the opposite.
Most importantly, our leaders have paid careful attention to funding government that is affordable not just in good times, but bad. In 2007, legislators rejected $550 million in new spending programs that would have further increased the baseline cost of government and devoured a bulk of today’s budget surplus.
They also returned millions back to taxpayers and saved millions more in a state “rainy day” fund.
This too is a simple lesson: live within your means. It’s a rule our elected leaders have followed that’s paying big dividends for all of us.
North Dakota citizens reflect this same principle every day. It’s why most people here don’t lease fancy cars they can’t afford just to make themselves look good. It’s why I’ve never seen a “foreclosed” sign on a house in my city.
It’s why twice in the last two weeks I’ve learned of friends who secured a second job to pay for a vacation or home improvements rather than going into debt.
North Dakota isn’t completely immune from the economic crisis, but the strength of our financial system, the stability of our government and the sensibility of our citizens give us a fighting chance to escape the worst of it.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
ND Wins Big -- Or Do We?
“Why is everything so bad right now Mom?” my daughter asked while we were making supper and listening to the evening news recently. “Why are they always talking about how bad everything is?”
I hadn’t considered how the constant news about crisis and tragedy might sound to our kids … So began my attempt to explain our country’s economic woes to a 1st grader.
My child is confused by the constant doomsday talk not only because she’s seven but because she doesn’t really see or feel the pain here in North Dakota.
No, we aren’t completely isolated. Some dear friends are leaving our neighborhood, in part to shelter themselves from the recession. My husband survived two reductions-in-force last year and his company was recently bought out, promising more cutbacks. So, our future has some concerning question marks.
But despite some layoffs and evidence of slowdown, North Dakota stands like an economic fortress among the houses of cards that are toppling throughout the United States. North Dakota has a $1 billion budget surplus, abundant jobs and among the lowest unemployment rates in the nation.
Considering the steady financial position of North Dakota, I was among those disturbed by news from our Congressional delegation last week that North Dakota will receive $493 million in “formula funding” from the economic stimulus package.
Formula funding is one of those government terms that we tune out. It must be code for money distributed without consideration of need.
“Per capita, only two states do better,” a news release from Sen. Kent Conrad glowed. “These resources will be invested in North Dakota’s highways and bridges, our law enforcement agencies, our growing energy sector, and our children’s school lunch programs.”
Fine. North Dakotans will probably spend it more wisely than most. But I thought the point of the package was to stimulate troubled economies? With some states near collapse, should North Dakota with a record budget surplus be among the biggest winners per capita of stimulus money?
I know North Dakota won’t reject the money, but I’d like to see us return part of it. For instance, our share includes about $25 million for the State Energy Program. Compare this to the program’s current annual budget of about $250,000 and you’ll understand why some people in state government question whether we will be able to responsibly spend all of this money. That's a 10,000 percent increase in just one program in one small state.
Examples like this undermine confidence in this approach. I'm plagued with questions about it. How can a 30 percent increase in the entire federal budget be debated, passed and signed into law in less than one month? Will we ever pay it back? Who are we beholden to for this debt? Are we the Soviet Union of the 21st Century, spending our way to prosperity while we mortgage our financial systems to a future world power like China?
Another side of me is just curious, as an outside observer might be, to witness what kind of effect this massive spending plan will have on our nation. Is it bold and brilliant or the beginning of a long and painful demise?
Plenty of people are making predictions, but no one really knows. Ultimately, all of the nay saying, cheering and predictions in the news doesn’t matter. We are in an economic, political and social experiment of historic proportions, and only history will determine whether it works.
My daughter feels isolated from the economic crisis today, and I hope that continues to be the case. Most of all, I pray it doesn’t fall squarely on her lap when she’s raising a first grader of her own.
I hadn’t considered how the constant news about crisis and tragedy might sound to our kids … So began my attempt to explain our country’s economic woes to a 1st grader.
My child is confused by the constant doomsday talk not only because she’s seven but because she doesn’t really see or feel the pain here in North Dakota.
No, we aren’t completely isolated. Some dear friends are leaving our neighborhood, in part to shelter themselves from the recession. My husband survived two reductions-in-force last year and his company was recently bought out, promising more cutbacks. So, our future has some concerning question marks.
But despite some layoffs and evidence of slowdown, North Dakota stands like an economic fortress among the houses of cards that are toppling throughout the United States. North Dakota has a $1 billion budget surplus, abundant jobs and among the lowest unemployment rates in the nation.
Considering the steady financial position of North Dakota, I was among those disturbed by news from our Congressional delegation last week that North Dakota will receive $493 million in “formula funding” from the economic stimulus package.
Formula funding is one of those government terms that we tune out. It must be code for money distributed without consideration of need.
“Per capita, only two states do better,” a news release from Sen. Kent Conrad glowed. “These resources will be invested in North Dakota’s highways and bridges, our law enforcement agencies, our growing energy sector, and our children’s school lunch programs.”
Fine. North Dakotans will probably spend it more wisely than most. But I thought the point of the package was to stimulate troubled economies? With some states near collapse, should North Dakota with a record budget surplus be among the biggest winners per capita of stimulus money?
I know North Dakota won’t reject the money, but I’d like to see us return part of it. For instance, our share includes about $25 million for the State Energy Program. Compare this to the program’s current annual budget of about $250,000 and you’ll understand why some people in state government question whether we will be able to responsibly spend all of this money. That's a 10,000 percent increase in just one program in one small state.
Examples like this undermine confidence in this approach. I'm plagued with questions about it. How can a 30 percent increase in the entire federal budget be debated, passed and signed into law in less than one month? Will we ever pay it back? Who are we beholden to for this debt? Are we the Soviet Union of the 21st Century, spending our way to prosperity while we mortgage our financial systems to a future world power like China?
Another side of me is just curious, as an outside observer might be, to witness what kind of effect this massive spending plan will have on our nation. Is it bold and brilliant or the beginning of a long and painful demise?
Plenty of people are making predictions, but no one really knows. Ultimately, all of the nay saying, cheering and predictions in the news doesn’t matter. We are in an economic, political and social experiment of historic proportions, and only history will determine whether it works.
My daughter feels isolated from the economic crisis today, and I hope that continues to be the case. Most of all, I pray it doesn’t fall squarely on her lap when she’s raising a first grader of her own.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Obsessing about Love
Last week, our kids transformed the kitchen into a Valentine factory. Glitter covered our table, counters, chairs and most of our dogs too. Piles of papers baring heart-shaped wounds littered the floor.
They produced 50-some creations that only a mother can recognize as hearts, and taped a piece of leftover Halloween candy on each one for good measure. (At last -- that stash is gone.)
Valentine’s Day aside, love has been on my mind a lot this past year. Not heart pounding, stomach dropping romantic love, but love as in “love your neighbor” or “love your enemy.”
Love like:
• The Trinity Lutheran Church lady who volunteers 50 hours each week to coordinate The Banquet meals for needy people in our community.
• The young women who help developmentally disabled adults swim at our local pools.
• The people who run the Children’s Advocacy Center, Abused Adult Resource Center, Teen Challenge, Charles Hall, Ruth Meier’s, and all the churches that serve the poor and less fortunate.
These people live love as a calling.
Recently, a young priest at my church told our congregation that he hoped we could feel his love for us “overflowing” from him. He choked up a bit as he spoke and his words struck me, not because they were terribly profound but because they were so sincere.
Here was a young man who has devoted his life to loving and caring for others and you can, most certainly, feel the love flowing from him. What a gift to us – immeasurable really, in terms of the impact on people around him.
Helen Keller said, “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart.”
We hear this and nod because we know it’s true. Yet we are so easily, almost obsessively distracted from this lesson. We pack our days trying to see and accomplish and accumulate things to touch, and in the process lose sight of our most important calling to love.
In the rush of a day, it’s easy to bypass simple, loving gestures like sitting down with my five-year-old to talk about his school papers, having a complete conversation with my husband, or calling a lonely friend.
Mattie Stepanek, a young poet who died at age 13 from a severe form of muscular dystrophy, became famous for his touching “Heartsongs” poems. I’m not a big reader of poetry, but this little boy’s plain words are inspiring.
In a poem titled, “Believing in the Journey” he wrote, “Everyday, everyone in the world should do at least one nice thing for others. Doing so can help each person believe in himself or herself more fully and give confidence that may inspire each person to do more new and good things.”
It’s simple and idealistic. But it works. Kindness and love are contagious, not just on Valentine’s Day but everyday. May you be inspired to do more new and good things, even small and insignificant, so your love overflows for everyone to feel.
They produced 50-some creations that only a mother can recognize as hearts, and taped a piece of leftover Halloween candy on each one for good measure. (At last -- that stash is gone.)
Valentine’s Day aside, love has been on my mind a lot this past year. Not heart pounding, stomach dropping romantic love, but love as in “love your neighbor” or “love your enemy.”
Love like:
• The Trinity Lutheran Church lady who volunteers 50 hours each week to coordinate The Banquet meals for needy people in our community.
• The young women who help developmentally disabled adults swim at our local pools.
• The people who run the Children’s Advocacy Center, Abused Adult Resource Center, Teen Challenge, Charles Hall, Ruth Meier’s, and all the churches that serve the poor and less fortunate.
These people live love as a calling.
Recently, a young priest at my church told our congregation that he hoped we could feel his love for us “overflowing” from him. He choked up a bit as he spoke and his words struck me, not because they were terribly profound but because they were so sincere.
Here was a young man who has devoted his life to loving and caring for others and you can, most certainly, feel the love flowing from him. What a gift to us – immeasurable really, in terms of the impact on people around him.
Helen Keller said, “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart.”
We hear this and nod because we know it’s true. Yet we are so easily, almost obsessively distracted from this lesson. We pack our days trying to see and accomplish and accumulate things to touch, and in the process lose sight of our most important calling to love.
In the rush of a day, it’s easy to bypass simple, loving gestures like sitting down with my five-year-old to talk about his school papers, having a complete conversation with my husband, or calling a lonely friend.
Mattie Stepanek, a young poet who died at age 13 from a severe form of muscular dystrophy, became famous for his touching “Heartsongs” poems. I’m not a big reader of poetry, but this little boy’s plain words are inspiring.
In a poem titled, “Believing in the Journey” he wrote, “Everyday, everyone in the world should do at least one nice thing for others. Doing so can help each person believe in himself or herself more fully and give confidence that may inspire each person to do more new and good things.”
It’s simple and idealistic. But it works. Kindness and love are contagious, not just on Valentine’s Day but everyday. May you be inspired to do more new and good things, even small and insignificant, so your love overflows for everyone to feel.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Considering a new conversation on abortion
Swimming this weekend with my kids we played my favorite pool game: tea party. Four of us gathered in a tight circle and dunked under the water at the same time. I yelled a secret phrase as loudly and clearly as I could, then stood up and waited for them to guess what I said. They looked at me, puzzled. No guesses.
We tried again. And again. And again. Each time I yelled louder and enunciate more carefully. Finally, on the fifth or sixth round, my daughter finally heard me correctly. “MICKEY MOUSE!” she yelled.
The ongoing debate about abortion in this country bares some similarities to this underwater communication game. Both sides chant loudly and enunciate clearly, but they could all just as well be underwater. Their opponents can not understand them.
Unlike my recent game, however, when it comes to the debate on abortion, both sides have practically stopped listening or trying to understand.
Last week, in revoking the Mexico City Policy, President Obama said, “I have no desire to continue this stale and fruitless debate,” and pledged to bring people from all sides together for a fresh conversation on abortion.
I immediately dismissed this promise. A fresh conversation on abortion? Impossible.
Later, I began to consider the alternative. If we can’t somehow initiate a new conversation, the abortion issue will continue to be a game of political “keep away.” When liberals are in charge, national policies will make abortion easier. When conservatives hold the reins, policies will restrict abortions.
This is how it’s been for 36 years. I was four when the “keep away” game began.
So, assuming President Obama is sincere in his desire to create a new conversation, I’ve been thinking about what that might be. What would it sound like? How do you bring these ardent foes together?
First, a new conversation demands that neither side will receive everything they want. This has always been the first and final stumbling block on this issue. Pro-life groups can cede no ground on the taking of innocent life. And the pro-choice advocates stand firmly against any government infringement on a woman’s ability to manage her own body.
End of discussion.
But what if, in a new conversation, Roe v Wade was off the table? What if advocates for life gave up efforts to repeal Roe v Wade? What if we accepted that in terms of U.S. law -- not church teachings, spiritual understanding or moral positioning but legally speaking -- U.S. women have a legal right to chose?
Would this giant concession open the door to a fresh conversation on abortion? And could that liberate people in both camps to quit defending their most pure positions and get about the work of reducing the 1.2 million abortions in this country each year?
Ultimately, abortion is a lose-lose choice. Except in the case of rape, the mother (and father if he’s consulted) lose a life of their own making, the baby loses its future, thousands of potential adoptive parents lose an opportunity to love and parent that child, and society loses the promise inherent to that life.
I believe most Americans view abortion as an undesirable solution. No one, at least no one I’ve ever met, wakes up in the morning and thinks, “If only we could have more abortions in this country. That would be good for America.”
But in fighting to maintain a woman’s right to make this most intimate and significant decision, the pro-choice community has had to diminish the value of the life at stake. Granting any rights or compassion for the unborn child could jeopardize the woman’s exclusive authority to determine her and her baby’s destiny.
This position takes its most extreme form with pro-choice advocates who have more compassion for mistreated animals than for a baby girl accidentally born out of a botched abortion.
We are more reasonable than this. We can do a lot better, working together to reduce unwanted pregnancies, to empower women, to promote life and maintain choice while minimizing and maybe even someday eliminating the need for or use of abortion.
Or we can remain in the swimming pool, continue our underwater conversations and let the game of “keep away” continue.
We tried again. And again. And again. Each time I yelled louder and enunciate more carefully. Finally, on the fifth or sixth round, my daughter finally heard me correctly. “MICKEY MOUSE!” she yelled.
The ongoing debate about abortion in this country bares some similarities to this underwater communication game. Both sides chant loudly and enunciate clearly, but they could all just as well be underwater. Their opponents can not understand them.
Unlike my recent game, however, when it comes to the debate on abortion, both sides have practically stopped listening or trying to understand.
Last week, in revoking the Mexico City Policy, President Obama said, “I have no desire to continue this stale and fruitless debate,” and pledged to bring people from all sides together for a fresh conversation on abortion.
I immediately dismissed this promise. A fresh conversation on abortion? Impossible.
Later, I began to consider the alternative. If we can’t somehow initiate a new conversation, the abortion issue will continue to be a game of political “keep away.” When liberals are in charge, national policies will make abortion easier. When conservatives hold the reins, policies will restrict abortions.
This is how it’s been for 36 years. I was four when the “keep away” game began.
So, assuming President Obama is sincere in his desire to create a new conversation, I’ve been thinking about what that might be. What would it sound like? How do you bring these ardent foes together?
First, a new conversation demands that neither side will receive everything they want. This has always been the first and final stumbling block on this issue. Pro-life groups can cede no ground on the taking of innocent life. And the pro-choice advocates stand firmly against any government infringement on a woman’s ability to manage her own body.
End of discussion.
But what if, in a new conversation, Roe v Wade was off the table? What if advocates for life gave up efforts to repeal Roe v Wade? What if we accepted that in terms of U.S. law -- not church teachings, spiritual understanding or moral positioning but legally speaking -- U.S. women have a legal right to chose?
Would this giant concession open the door to a fresh conversation on abortion? And could that liberate people in both camps to quit defending their most pure positions and get about the work of reducing the 1.2 million abortions in this country each year?
Ultimately, abortion is a lose-lose choice. Except in the case of rape, the mother (and father if he’s consulted) lose a life of their own making, the baby loses its future, thousands of potential adoptive parents lose an opportunity to love and parent that child, and society loses the promise inherent to that life.
I believe most Americans view abortion as an undesirable solution. No one, at least no one I’ve ever met, wakes up in the morning and thinks, “If only we could have more abortions in this country. That would be good for America.”
But in fighting to maintain a woman’s right to make this most intimate and significant decision, the pro-choice community has had to diminish the value of the life at stake. Granting any rights or compassion for the unborn child could jeopardize the woman’s exclusive authority to determine her and her baby’s destiny.
This position takes its most extreme form with pro-choice advocates who have more compassion for mistreated animals than for a baby girl accidentally born out of a botched abortion.
We are more reasonable than this. We can do a lot better, working together to reduce unwanted pregnancies, to empower women, to promote life and maintain choice while minimizing and maybe even someday eliminating the need for or use of abortion.
Or we can remain in the swimming pool, continue our underwater conversations and let the game of “keep away” continue.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Answering An Important Call
When a friend of mine announced last year that he was running for the legislature, he was surprised at first by the reaction from people. He expected a few pats on the back. Maybe a couple, “Atta boys.”
But most people -- friends, co-workers, even service club members -- said something quite different. “Why the heck do you want to do something like that? Are you crazy?”
I’m wasn’t too surprised by this response. Legislators are easy targets for criticism, especially during the session. People like to highlight frivolous bills to represent the work of the group as a whole. “Why are they wasting time selecting a state fruit?” critics grumbled last session. “Don’t they have more important things to do?”
Another favorite, “Rather than meeting for 80 days every two years, they should meet for two days every 80 years.” The crowd roars. Heads nod in agreement.
I have a different perspective. For almost 15 years, I’ve been ringside at our state’s legislative process – working for the governor, the legislature or as a lobbyist. I’ve been in public hearings and closed door meetings alike.
I don’t see a bunch of men and women bumbling dumbly through the process, milking the system for freebees and health benefits, or maneuvering laws to benefit themselves. I can’t honestly think of one such example.
Rather, I see 141 normal North Dakotans -- dads, moms, grandparents, farmers, business people and young professionals. People with families, careers and hobbies who somehow manage to extract themselves from their real lives to devote nearly four straight months to lawmaking.
Their days begin early, frequently end late and in between they live, eat and breathe policy, politics and potato skins. People line up to talk to them in the halls of the capitol, outside hearing rooms, at their desks, or through their computer, phone and mail.
Unlike many states, our citizen lawmakers act on every single piece of legislation introduced. Last session, that was nearly 950 bills including the state fruit initiative started by high school students as a way to learn about the legislative process.
I love the fact that in North Dakota anyone who wants to change our laws can try to by simply finding a legislator to introduce a bill. Every idea gets a fair hearing and a vote. No one sits at the gate and says, “This is a good bill, we’ll talk about that. But you there with the dumb idea, that one won’t be heard in my committee.”
Legislators are personal spokespeople for us in our self-governing process. They set policies that have significant consequences on life as we know it -- like whether we can drive and talk on a cell phone at the same time.
And they walk line-by-line through thousands of pages of the state budget that funds 73 agencies and all of our vital services. Want to see what’s involved in this? Sit in on an appropriations hearing for a day -- or even an hour. (Be sure to bring coffee, or Red Bull.)
In return for their work, North Dakota’s part-time legislators receive about $13,500/year plus health insurance. Taxpayers also cover room and board for legislators while they are in session. Not a pittance, but certainly not outrageous. Minnesota legislators earn twice as much. South Dakota about the same.
In California, legislators receive $110,000 year, a free car and nearly $150 per day for expenses.
At the opening of this year’s session, the Jamestown High School choir sang a beautiful song that paid tribute to those who “answer freedom’s call so freedom’s cry will still stay strong.”
Listening to the lyrics, images of soldiers and veterans came to mind. But as I looked around the legislative chambers at the people serving as our representatives, I realized they too had answered freedom’s call. Often, like in the case of my friend, without a lot of public support or encouragement.
Our legislators and the laws they pass aren’t perfect, and the process can be ugly. But the final product has been serving North Dakotans pretty well. Maybe these folks are a little crazy, but I’m sure thankful they are answering this call.
But most people -- friends, co-workers, even service club members -- said something quite different. “Why the heck do you want to do something like that? Are you crazy?”
I’m wasn’t too surprised by this response. Legislators are easy targets for criticism, especially during the session. People like to highlight frivolous bills to represent the work of the group as a whole. “Why are they wasting time selecting a state fruit?” critics grumbled last session. “Don’t they have more important things to do?”
Another favorite, “Rather than meeting for 80 days every two years, they should meet for two days every 80 years.” The crowd roars. Heads nod in agreement.
I have a different perspective. For almost 15 years, I’ve been ringside at our state’s legislative process – working for the governor, the legislature or as a lobbyist. I’ve been in public hearings and closed door meetings alike.
I don’t see a bunch of men and women bumbling dumbly through the process, milking the system for freebees and health benefits, or maneuvering laws to benefit themselves. I can’t honestly think of one such example.
Rather, I see 141 normal North Dakotans -- dads, moms, grandparents, farmers, business people and young professionals. People with families, careers and hobbies who somehow manage to extract themselves from their real lives to devote nearly four straight months to lawmaking.
Their days begin early, frequently end late and in between they live, eat and breathe policy, politics and potato skins. People line up to talk to them in the halls of the capitol, outside hearing rooms, at their desks, or through their computer, phone and mail.
Unlike many states, our citizen lawmakers act on every single piece of legislation introduced. Last session, that was nearly 950 bills including the state fruit initiative started by high school students as a way to learn about the legislative process.
I love the fact that in North Dakota anyone who wants to change our laws can try to by simply finding a legislator to introduce a bill. Every idea gets a fair hearing and a vote. No one sits at the gate and says, “This is a good bill, we’ll talk about that. But you there with the dumb idea, that one won’t be heard in my committee.”
Legislators are personal spokespeople for us in our self-governing process. They set policies that have significant consequences on life as we know it -- like whether we can drive and talk on a cell phone at the same time.
And they walk line-by-line through thousands of pages of the state budget that funds 73 agencies and all of our vital services. Want to see what’s involved in this? Sit in on an appropriations hearing for a day -- or even an hour. (Be sure to bring coffee, or Red Bull.)
In return for their work, North Dakota’s part-time legislators receive about $13,500/year plus health insurance. Taxpayers also cover room and board for legislators while they are in session. Not a pittance, but certainly not outrageous. Minnesota legislators earn twice as much. South Dakota about the same.
In California, legislators receive $110,000 year, a free car and nearly $150 per day for expenses.
At the opening of this year’s session, the Jamestown High School choir sang a beautiful song that paid tribute to those who “answer freedom’s call so freedom’s cry will still stay strong.”
Listening to the lyrics, images of soldiers and veterans came to mind. But as I looked around the legislative chambers at the people serving as our representatives, I realized they too had answered freedom’s call. Often, like in the case of my friend, without a lot of public support or encouragement.
Our legislators and the laws they pass aren’t perfect, and the process can be ugly. But the final product has been serving North Dakotans pretty well. Maybe these folks are a little crazy, but I’m sure thankful they are answering this call.
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