Niki Bhatia's Blog
June 23, 2019
The Hangout House
We all know there is always that ONE house that teens tend to hang out at. MINE is one of those homes. We live close to the high school and are blessed to have a huge basement. So there are 4-8 teen boys and girls at my house more often than I sometimes I care to have.
Growing up in a traditional family, my parents were strict and would not allow me to invite my friends, especially boys into our house. I had resolved that I would give my children that privilege. I cook for these kids often. When they are eating, I sit and chat with them learning so much about how they interact, communicate and think. Most that come over are boys and overall they are really good kids.
But being a host, constrains my life and is huge responsibility. I don’t leave the house if the kids are home. Everyone is required to pick up and clean up the mess when they leave, but they don’t always remember when they are leaving at 11 or 12 at night! I’ve had toilets overflow several times despite telling them they don’t need a whole roll of toiletpaper to clean their behinds! On one occasion, they all played video games while I swapped up the mess. When I asked the boy who was responsible to just hold the garbage bag open so I could put all the wet paper towels in, he straight out refused! Thankfully it was only toilet water.
Once, a boy twisted his ankle in the basement. Yes, in the basement! When the mother came to pick up her child, there was no thanks. Instead her look could kill, as if somehow there was some negligence on my part. During another party, while running around in the backyard, a girl fell on our all masonry patio and badly scraped her knees and elbows. Another time, a girl accidentally threw out her retainer, which was balled up in a napkin and told my son that it was his responsibility to take find it because it was his house. I let her know it wasn’t! Among other interesting incidences, once while cleaning the basement, my husband found a vaping pipe under the furniture. A few of the kids identified who the culprit was, and he is no longer allowed in the house.
As a parent, you tolerate certain impositions on your life for the sake of the children. But now I’m at a point where I am burnt out and a bit angry. Many of the kids show NO appreciation and can be rude at times. If I have to put them in their place, for say, flicking cards against the wall and creating little grooves, I am considered “mean.” And for those who think flicking cards like a Chinese star against the wall can’t ruin your wall, I’ll send them to your house and they can demonstrate.
Out of his many friends, my teen son has been invited to only 2 of the homes. Kids don’t need a BIG house for children to be happy in. There are those that NEVER reciprocate, or so much as buy my son a soda or slice of pizza for the constant hospitality. AM I calling parents out?! You bet I am!! I provide snacks and drinks but I stopped feeding kids every time they came over. I have boys that come over 9 at night and say they haven’t eaten so of course I feed them. What were the parents doing? I used to give rides here and there and beyond to many kids. Then I put a stop to it all. One child told me his parents both work so they don’t have time. Say what? Uber app is very easy to download folks if you can’t help with pick up and drop offs.
I love my boys and would do anything for them. What I wouldn’t do is burden one family. There are ways that parents can reciprocate and show that the efforts of the host family are appreciated. I love the parents that recognize that it takes a village of moms and dads to entertain, educate and be there for OUR KIDS. If you find that that there is that ONE hangout house, offer to send goodies. Take turns ordering pizza/food for the kids while they play at that one house. Another option is to offer to treat the host child to an amusement park, movie or dinner. Take turn doing drop off and pick up. There are ways that you can reciprocate. Finally, teach the kids that when they go over to someone else’s house, they have to respect the rules and members of that house. Say “please” and “thank you.” Address the mom as Mrs. _____ and not “excuse me.” Kids are not always sure how to address other moms and dads. I’m still old fashioned and prefer Mrs. Bhatia.
September 26, 2016
The "American Quilt"
The “American Quilt”
I recently started a petition to have the Hindu holiday of Diwali recognized by our local school district as a holiday so families can celebrate for one day without worrying about homework and going to bed early. For me personally, it’s not about getting time off from school. It’s much more than that.
We need to remember that the Pilgrims, the first group of people who landed on this soil, came here to escape the Church of England and practice their own religious ideology and to carve out a good life for themselves, away from the tyranny of the king. This is the cornerstone of the building of America, religious freedom and economic opportunities.
Most of the early settlers were of European decent. Many came due to famine or unrest in their countries, often coming as indentured servants to the wealthy already settled here. These were some of the first of millions of the “poor…huddled masses yearning to breathe,” that Lady Liberty later beckoned to.
Later in history, the first Asians arrived during the Industrial Revolution hoping to capture a share of the gold rush but ended up working on America’s railway systems. America became home to people from Asia, Europe and Africa. Immigrants from all over the world have since come and carved out a spot to call their own. Each group of people who migrated brought with them their own cultural identity, food, language and religious beliefs. Today, America is not a melting pot but more likely a salad, with each ingredient in the salad adding to the color, flavor and texture to an otherwise boring bowl of greens.
So why celebrate Diwali? The major religion within the US for centuries has been Christianity/Catholicism and Christmas and Easter have always been celebrated. In some part of the country, where the Jewish faith is a strong presence, many of the Jewish holidays are recognized by school districts. In recent years, some cities have honored the Chinese New Year and Eid. And rightfully so because America is no longer a country of Europeans Christians and Catholic.
America is not a homogenous land of one culture, color, race or religion. I like to say, we are part of the “American Quilt.” We all represent a piece of the quilt with our varied experiences and beliefs. We are part of the bigger, collective fabric, rich in color and stories. Like a quilt, each patch has a place and purpose on the quilt. Each patch has a story and history behind it. And the great thing about a quilt is that we can keep adding to it but taking away a patch only destroys it’s beauty, value and integrity.
So what does this have to do with celebrating and recognizing Diwali as a holiday? Well, because Hindus, and people of Indian decent, make up many significant and powerful pieces of the American Quilt. It is not so much recognizing Diwali, per se, but acknowledging that the Indian population IS American. We are American. We celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas. We adopted it as our own. This is what America is, a land of many different cultures and religions coming together. So why shouldn’t Diwali be added to the potpourri.
Some may argue that where will it stop. There are limited days in the calendar. My response to that would be that numbers have power. If a certain people make up larger, more significant group in any city, and they voice themselves, we have to find a way to let them be heard because they have added a patch to the changing face of the “American Quilt.”
I recently started a petition to have the Hindu holiday of Diwali recognized by our local school district as a holiday so families can celebrate for one day without worrying about homework and going to bed early. For me personally, it’s not about getting time off from school. It’s much more than that.
We need to remember that the Pilgrims, the first group of people who landed on this soil, came here to escape the Church of England and practice their own religious ideology and to carve out a good life for themselves, away from the tyranny of the king. This is the cornerstone of the building of America, religious freedom and economic opportunities.
Most of the early settlers were of European decent. Many came due to famine or unrest in their countries, often coming as indentured servants to the wealthy already settled here. These were some of the first of millions of the “poor…huddled masses yearning to breathe,” that Lady Liberty later beckoned to.
Later in history, the first Asians arrived during the Industrial Revolution hoping to capture a share of the gold rush but ended up working on America’s railway systems. America became home to people from Asia, Europe and Africa. Immigrants from all over the world have since come and carved out a spot to call their own. Each group of people who migrated brought with them their own cultural identity, food, language and religious beliefs. Today, America is not a melting pot but more likely a salad, with each ingredient in the salad adding to the color, flavor and texture to an otherwise boring bowl of greens.
So why celebrate Diwali? The major religion within the US for centuries has been Christianity/Catholicism and Christmas and Easter have always been celebrated. In some part of the country, where the Jewish faith is a strong presence, many of the Jewish holidays are recognized by school districts. In recent years, some cities have honored the Chinese New Year and Eid. And rightfully so because America is no longer a country of Europeans Christians and Catholic.
America is not a homogenous land of one culture, color, race or religion. I like to say, we are part of the “American Quilt.” We all represent a piece of the quilt with our varied experiences and beliefs. We are part of the bigger, collective fabric, rich in color and stories. Like a quilt, each patch has a place and purpose on the quilt. Each patch has a story and history behind it. And the great thing about a quilt is that we can keep adding to it but taking away a patch only destroys it’s beauty, value and integrity.
So what does this have to do with celebrating and recognizing Diwali as a holiday? Well, because Hindus, and people of Indian decent, make up many significant and powerful pieces of the American Quilt. It is not so much recognizing Diwali, per se, but acknowledging that the Indian population IS American. We are American. We celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas. We adopted it as our own. This is what America is, a land of many different cultures and religions coming together. So why shouldn’t Diwali be added to the potpourri.
Some may argue that where will it stop. There are limited days in the calendar. My response to that would be that numbers have power. If a certain people make up larger, more significant group in any city, and they voice themselves, we have to find a way to let them be heard because they have added a patch to the changing face of the “American Quilt.”
September 14, 2015
BABY BLUES....
BABY BLUES....
In India, after a woman has a baby, she has the help of many people and is surrounded by family...for better or worse.
In the U.S., many women become isolated and alone in their new journey of motherhood. For many new, young moms this is a stressful, overwhelming period. The uncertainties of new motherhood, the changes in our bodies, sleepless nights, and hormonal changes result in Postpartum Depression for millions of women.
I was was one of those women. I had moved from my home town of Chicago to Denver. I knew many people but none that I could really confide in or call at 2 in the morning. My husband traveled for work Monday through Friday so basically I was a "single mom." My son was born prematurely at 32 weeks and had many issues including gerd, asthma, low weight etc. Doctors had advised that I feed him a little bit every 2 hours. I recall nights doing a 12am feed and then cleaning up throw up from the bed. Then getting up at 2 and doing the same. By the next feeding if he threw up, I would just throw a towel on it and go back to sleep. I was exhausted and no husband or family to let me sleep. I tried hard to enjoy my baby but each day was a struggle. My husband was supportive when he was in town but he had to work. He tried to understand but I know he really couldn't. Postpartum hit me hard!!
Unfortunately, because of stigma associated with depression, I had to keep it a secret from society. The secrecy in itself was another stressor. Looking back on that time, I really don't know how I survived!
Millions of women suffer from PPD. It is not exclusive to American women. In places like India, women are surrounded by family so they dont really succumb to the depression. They may feel out of sorts and "down" but because they are interacting with people constantly, they don't get to the level of depression that many isolated women feel.
We can't be judgemental about postpartum depression. A woman can't just "snap out of it." The hormonal changes and imbalances need time to settle. The "fog" and "dark cloud" takes time to pass. And it does pass.
Men try to be understanding about PPD. But they understand it about as much as they understand labor pain!! I believe only other women can understand and be there for each other. How can others help? Maybe it's an offer to watch the child while the mom sleeps for a couple of hours. A phone call or visit, an invite for lunch, shoulder to cry on, can bring up someone's spirits. Best of all, sharing our collective experiences does wonders for a woman who is feeling alone and embarrassed about her situation. It lets them know that this phase in her life is temporary. You've been there and she too will get through it.
In India, after a woman has a baby, she has the help of many people and is surrounded by family...for better or worse.
In the U.S., many women become isolated and alone in their new journey of motherhood. For many new, young moms this is a stressful, overwhelming period. The uncertainties of new motherhood, the changes in our bodies, sleepless nights, and hormonal changes result in Postpartum Depression for millions of women.
I was was one of those women. I had moved from my home town of Chicago to Denver. I knew many people but none that I could really confide in or call at 2 in the morning. My husband traveled for work Monday through Friday so basically I was a "single mom." My son was born prematurely at 32 weeks and had many issues including gerd, asthma, low weight etc. Doctors had advised that I feed him a little bit every 2 hours. I recall nights doing a 12am feed and then cleaning up throw up from the bed. Then getting up at 2 and doing the same. By the next feeding if he threw up, I would just throw a towel on it and go back to sleep. I was exhausted and no husband or family to let me sleep. I tried hard to enjoy my baby but each day was a struggle. My husband was supportive when he was in town but he had to work. He tried to understand but I know he really couldn't. Postpartum hit me hard!!
Unfortunately, because of stigma associated with depression, I had to keep it a secret from society. The secrecy in itself was another stressor. Looking back on that time, I really don't know how I survived!
Millions of women suffer from PPD. It is not exclusive to American women. In places like India, women are surrounded by family so they dont really succumb to the depression. They may feel out of sorts and "down" but because they are interacting with people constantly, they don't get to the level of depression that many isolated women feel.
We can't be judgemental about postpartum depression. A woman can't just "snap out of it." The hormonal changes and imbalances need time to settle. The "fog" and "dark cloud" takes time to pass. And it does pass.
Men try to be understanding about PPD. But they understand it about as much as they understand labor pain!! I believe only other women can understand and be there for each other. How can others help? Maybe it's an offer to watch the child while the mom sleeps for a couple of hours. A phone call or visit, an invite for lunch, shoulder to cry on, can bring up someone's spirits. Best of all, sharing our collective experiences does wonders for a woman who is feeling alone and embarrassed about her situation. It lets them know that this phase in her life is temporary. You've been there and she too will get through it.
August 30, 2015
Raksha Bandhan .....New Traditions
Rakhsha Bandhan…..New Traditions
Yesterday, Hindus all over the world celebrated the holiday called Rakhsha Bandhan. Sisters everywhere tied the ceremonial rakhi (a small bracelet made of threads and adorned with beads) on their brother's wrists, did puja, and prayed to God to give their brothers a long, healthy, prosperous life. The sisters, in return, received a token gift or money, and a vow from the brother that they would always be there to protect and take care of them.
Many believe that the Raksha Bandhan holiday tradition originated from the great Hindu epic scriptures called the Mahabharta. In one story, Princess Draupadi is said to have torn a piece of her own sari to bandage the bleeding wrist of Lord Krishna. Krishna is so touched by this gesture that he proclaims her as his sister and promises to always protect Draupadi. Later when Draupadi is being insulted in front of a court of men, Krishna comes to her aid. When one of the men try to disrobe her by forcefully pulling off her sari at one end, Krishna divinely replenishes her sari so she does not lose her dignity or honor in this room full of men.
Raksha Bandhan, in Sanskrit, literally means “bond or tie of protection”. Tying a rakhi symbolizes solidification of a bond of love and protection between a brother and sister. Many people will have “rakhi brother” or “rakhi sister”, a cousin, neighbor or relative that takes on the platonic relationship of a surrogate sibling.
Whether it be Christmas, Thanksgiving, Diwali or Raksha Bandhan, holiday traditions have to have meaning for them to be carried on. Sometimes they need to be tweeked or modified. If we look at Christmas and Thanksgiving, the traditional ways in which these holidays have been celebrated over hundreds of years have evolved and changed. In bygones days, the turkey wasn’t a symbol of Thanksgiving. And Macy’s Day Parade certainly didn’t exist. Christmas didn’t entail having a perfectly lit tree decorated with glass ornaments and presents piled high next to it, around it and under it!! As the world changed, people changed and so did “traditional” customs.
Somehow it seems that many ancient cultures and traditions are more difficult to change. As beautiful as the Raksha Bandhan holiday is, I see a time for change. Raksha Bandhan needs to be brought into the modern times. In following this holiday in it’s most traditional form, it assumes that women still need being taken care of and protected, and it places the male in the dominant role of the “protector.” Educated women are doing puja to a brother, regardless of what age he may be. The brother could be 10 years younger and being raised by the older sister but on this day, he is elevated to the position of a “protector.” There is a certain irony in this scenario….but it does exist.
In a country that is still working towards recognizing women as competent, powerful beings, equal to men, this holiday only perpetuates and underscores the gender inequalities in india. Karva Chauth is another tradition that comes to mind. Women fast from sunrise to moonrise to ensure the health, well being and long life of their husbands. Only after seeing the moon and having done puja to their husbands do they take their first bite of food. Again the males need a long, healthy life so they can protect and take care of the females.
Many Indians will say that since I grew up in the US, I do not know what I am talking about. Understandably, the educated Indians comprehend the symbolic meaning behind these traditions; brothers and sisters need to have a strong, life-long bonds, and that in love, sacrifice is sometimes necessary. However, I worry about the uneducated masses in India who takes these traditions at face value and perceive females to have the subservient, dutiful, passive roles. From their understanding, if it is so in the Mahabharata, then it MUST be so in life.
I too sent a rakhi to my brother this year. I hope he lives a long, prosperous healthy life. However, starting next year, I am going to send a rakhi to my sister too because I wish the same good for her also. This year I decided my sons would tie a rakhi on each other. They are blood brothers and I want them to be there for each other in good times and in bad times. They don’t have a sister but they have each other! They need to look after each other. As families get smaller, sometimes oceans apart, we need to cherish the sibling we have. Raksha Bandhan doesn’t have to be just about the brother-sister bond. Like Father’s Day and Mother’s Day, let this day be a day to show all brothers…. and sisters too….how much we love them. Let this be Sibling’s Day.
Raksha bandhan is a beautiful tradition. But traditions need to change. Change is good. Change leads to progress and equality…….
Yesterday, Hindus all over the world celebrated the holiday called Rakhsha Bandhan. Sisters everywhere tied the ceremonial rakhi (a small bracelet made of threads and adorned with beads) on their brother's wrists, did puja, and prayed to God to give their brothers a long, healthy, prosperous life. The sisters, in return, received a token gift or money, and a vow from the brother that they would always be there to protect and take care of them.
Many believe that the Raksha Bandhan holiday tradition originated from the great Hindu epic scriptures called the Mahabharta. In one story, Princess Draupadi is said to have torn a piece of her own sari to bandage the bleeding wrist of Lord Krishna. Krishna is so touched by this gesture that he proclaims her as his sister and promises to always protect Draupadi. Later when Draupadi is being insulted in front of a court of men, Krishna comes to her aid. When one of the men try to disrobe her by forcefully pulling off her sari at one end, Krishna divinely replenishes her sari so she does not lose her dignity or honor in this room full of men.
Raksha Bandhan, in Sanskrit, literally means “bond or tie of protection”. Tying a rakhi symbolizes solidification of a bond of love and protection between a brother and sister. Many people will have “rakhi brother” or “rakhi sister”, a cousin, neighbor or relative that takes on the platonic relationship of a surrogate sibling.
Whether it be Christmas, Thanksgiving, Diwali or Raksha Bandhan, holiday traditions have to have meaning for them to be carried on. Sometimes they need to be tweeked or modified. If we look at Christmas and Thanksgiving, the traditional ways in which these holidays have been celebrated over hundreds of years have evolved and changed. In bygones days, the turkey wasn’t a symbol of Thanksgiving. And Macy’s Day Parade certainly didn’t exist. Christmas didn’t entail having a perfectly lit tree decorated with glass ornaments and presents piled high next to it, around it and under it!! As the world changed, people changed and so did “traditional” customs.
Somehow it seems that many ancient cultures and traditions are more difficult to change. As beautiful as the Raksha Bandhan holiday is, I see a time for change. Raksha Bandhan needs to be brought into the modern times. In following this holiday in it’s most traditional form, it assumes that women still need being taken care of and protected, and it places the male in the dominant role of the “protector.” Educated women are doing puja to a brother, regardless of what age he may be. The brother could be 10 years younger and being raised by the older sister but on this day, he is elevated to the position of a “protector.” There is a certain irony in this scenario….but it does exist.
In a country that is still working towards recognizing women as competent, powerful beings, equal to men, this holiday only perpetuates and underscores the gender inequalities in india. Karva Chauth is another tradition that comes to mind. Women fast from sunrise to moonrise to ensure the health, well being and long life of their husbands. Only after seeing the moon and having done puja to their husbands do they take their first bite of food. Again the males need a long, healthy life so they can protect and take care of the females.
Many Indians will say that since I grew up in the US, I do not know what I am talking about. Understandably, the educated Indians comprehend the symbolic meaning behind these traditions; brothers and sisters need to have a strong, life-long bonds, and that in love, sacrifice is sometimes necessary. However, I worry about the uneducated masses in India who takes these traditions at face value and perceive females to have the subservient, dutiful, passive roles. From their understanding, if it is so in the Mahabharata, then it MUST be so in life.
I too sent a rakhi to my brother this year. I hope he lives a long, prosperous healthy life. However, starting next year, I am going to send a rakhi to my sister too because I wish the same good for her also. This year I decided my sons would tie a rakhi on each other. They are blood brothers and I want them to be there for each other in good times and in bad times. They don’t have a sister but they have each other! They need to look after each other. As families get smaller, sometimes oceans apart, we need to cherish the sibling we have. Raksha Bandhan doesn’t have to be just about the brother-sister bond. Like Father’s Day and Mother’s Day, let this day be a day to show all brothers…. and sisters too….how much we love them. Let this be Sibling’s Day.
Raksha bandhan is a beautiful tradition. But traditions need to change. Change is good. Change leads to progress and equality…….
January 7, 2015
Anyone Going to Holland?
I recently sent a narrative titled “Trip to Holland” to a friend whose son is autistic. It’s a beautifully written essay which metaphorically describes a mother’s reaction to finding out that her child is autistic. You really need to read it to truly grasp the poignancy of it, so here it is:
Trip to Holland by Emily Perl Kingsley I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability — to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this… When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans… the Coliseum, the Sistine Chapel, Gondolas. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting. After several months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome to Holland!” “Holland?” you say. “What do you mean, Holland? I signed up for Italy. I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy.” But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay. The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place full of pestilence, famine, and disease. It’s just a different place. So, you must go out and buy new guidebooks. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met. It’s just a different place. It’s slower paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around. You begin to notice that Holland has windmills. Holland has tulips. And Holland even has Rembrandts. But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life you will say, ” Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned.” And the pain of that experience will never, ever, ever, go away. The loss of that dream is a very significant loss. But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.
This made me reflect on how this “trip to Holland” is all a matter of our perceptions. Whether it’s related to our children, or to life in general, we have all been on a trip to some place we didn’t like at first. We’ve been in those places which made us uneasy, anxious, or scared at first.
My oldest son was born with a 5 page list of allergies. After eating eggs one day, we discovered that he was allergic to eggs and peanuts. After going back and forth to allergists, we learned that he was also allergic to everything from grass, every imaginable tree, all nuts, dust, dander, pollen etc, etc.
The first 5 years of his life, I lived in paranoia and carried an Epi Pen and antihistamine everywhere I went. Being a vegetarian, I ate nuts and peanut butter for protein while pregnant. Had that caused his peanut allergy? I felt such guilt, and needless to say, avoided nut altogether the second time. I never would have imagined that something as ubiquitous as peanuts could possibly kill my baby. So I fought with his preschool teachers who insisted on keeping his Epi pen in the office rather than the classroom, or for not making his classroom nut free. My heart skipped a beat when the caller ID showed his school calling for any reason. I rarely left him with a sitter to go out with friends. On those few occasions when we did, I frightened the poor sitter after demonstrating to her how to use the Epi pen in case of an emergency. I remember crying, asking God why this had to happen to my son.
Like Emily, so many other parents have taken this same detour to Holland and can empathize with her. I feel for my friend whose son is diagnosed with a gluten allergy which is further aggravated by kidney issues. When his body retains water, his cheeks puff and his poor belly bulges out, hard as a rock. Her eyes well with tears and you can feel the pain in her heart, when she speaks about what it is like telling her son that he can't have a munchkin....maybe never.
Then there are children who are born with diabetes and are followed around by a nurse with a blood sugar monitor all day in school. I can only image what the mother goes through. They can't play too hard because their sugar level may go too low yet they need to get exercise otherwise the levels may get too high.
The parents who find out that their child is visually impaired, born deaf or have some other debilitating disease can also relate to this trip to Holland. They also wonder what Italy would have been like. The same sentiment may strike parents who find out that their child is gay. They weren’t expecting to go to Holland. How would the world view their child? Would they be ridiculed or outcast? But now they are there, and like Emily, they are learning to appreciate Holland....and eventually they may even come to embrace it.
My trip to Holland, compared to those of others, turned out not to be so bad. We are given, I believe, only what we can handle. It makes us …and our children…stronger individuals. We all learn to accept ….and love…where we are. Life is a matter of perceptions. What we perceive to be a weakness or difficulty, will be just that. We can choose to complain about never having seen Italy or come to view Holland in a whole new light…just as Emily says in her piece.
For some, Italy may seem like a dream. But who knows, that "perfect" dream could one day... turn out to be a real nightmare.
Trip to Holland by Emily Perl Kingsley I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability — to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this… When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans… the Coliseum, the Sistine Chapel, Gondolas. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting. After several months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome to Holland!” “Holland?” you say. “What do you mean, Holland? I signed up for Italy. I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy.” But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay. The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place full of pestilence, famine, and disease. It’s just a different place. So, you must go out and buy new guidebooks. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met. It’s just a different place. It’s slower paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around. You begin to notice that Holland has windmills. Holland has tulips. And Holland even has Rembrandts. But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life you will say, ” Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned.” And the pain of that experience will never, ever, ever, go away. The loss of that dream is a very significant loss. But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.
This made me reflect on how this “trip to Holland” is all a matter of our perceptions. Whether it’s related to our children, or to life in general, we have all been on a trip to some place we didn’t like at first. We’ve been in those places which made us uneasy, anxious, or scared at first.
My oldest son was born with a 5 page list of allergies. After eating eggs one day, we discovered that he was allergic to eggs and peanuts. After going back and forth to allergists, we learned that he was also allergic to everything from grass, every imaginable tree, all nuts, dust, dander, pollen etc, etc.
The first 5 years of his life, I lived in paranoia and carried an Epi Pen and antihistamine everywhere I went. Being a vegetarian, I ate nuts and peanut butter for protein while pregnant. Had that caused his peanut allergy? I felt such guilt, and needless to say, avoided nut altogether the second time. I never would have imagined that something as ubiquitous as peanuts could possibly kill my baby. So I fought with his preschool teachers who insisted on keeping his Epi pen in the office rather than the classroom, or for not making his classroom nut free. My heart skipped a beat when the caller ID showed his school calling for any reason. I rarely left him with a sitter to go out with friends. On those few occasions when we did, I frightened the poor sitter after demonstrating to her how to use the Epi pen in case of an emergency. I remember crying, asking God why this had to happen to my son.
Like Emily, so many other parents have taken this same detour to Holland and can empathize with her. I feel for my friend whose son is diagnosed with a gluten allergy which is further aggravated by kidney issues. When his body retains water, his cheeks puff and his poor belly bulges out, hard as a rock. Her eyes well with tears and you can feel the pain in her heart, when she speaks about what it is like telling her son that he can't have a munchkin....maybe never.
Then there are children who are born with diabetes and are followed around by a nurse with a blood sugar monitor all day in school. I can only image what the mother goes through. They can't play too hard because their sugar level may go too low yet they need to get exercise otherwise the levels may get too high.
The parents who find out that their child is visually impaired, born deaf or have some other debilitating disease can also relate to this trip to Holland. They also wonder what Italy would have been like. The same sentiment may strike parents who find out that their child is gay. They weren’t expecting to go to Holland. How would the world view their child? Would they be ridiculed or outcast? But now they are there, and like Emily, they are learning to appreciate Holland....and eventually they may even come to embrace it.
My trip to Holland, compared to those of others, turned out not to be so bad. We are given, I believe, only what we can handle. It makes us …and our children…stronger individuals. We all learn to accept ….and love…where we are. Life is a matter of perceptions. What we perceive to be a weakness or difficulty, will be just that. We can choose to complain about never having seen Italy or come to view Holland in a whole new light…just as Emily says in her piece.
For some, Italy may seem like a dream. But who knows, that "perfect" dream could one day... turn out to be a real nightmare.
August 23, 2014
Making Old Rhymes New Again.......
Making Old Rhymes New Again.......
For no apparent reason, an old childhood rhyme recently popped into my head. When I was young…..oh so many years ago….. kids chanted these sing-songy rhymes while playing clapping games, jumproping or playing hopscotch and jacks. We even used them to figure out playing order in a game. These humorous, and sometimes outrageously ridiculous poems were extremely popular in the days before kids stuck their faces into I-pads, I-phones and other electronics...when kids actually amused themselves on their own.
The rhyme that came to mind was:
“My mother and your mother were washing dishes.My mother punched your mother right in the nose.What color blood came out?”The child that the rhyme ended on had to pick a color, which was then spelled out.
The first thought that came to mind was….who makes this stuff up? It couldn’t possibly have been a woman, let alone a mother. I had to speculate that it had to be a man!
Now imagine two 21st century suburban soccer moms sitting at a Starbucks, both excusing themselves to check the latest text message beeping on their phones. In the meanwhile, Katelyn and Brianne, their daughters, are playing clapping games and singing, “My mother and your mother were washing dishes.” Both moms look up from their texts and burst out laughing. The girls are curious but continue with their rhyme, “My mother punched your mother right in the nose.” The moms again look up from their phones, this time shocked at what they hear. “Girls this is not a nice thing to sing about! Mommies don’t hit! They ‘use their words’,” exclaims one mom. “Yes we use our words. You know Mommy doesn’t believe in violence,” concurs the other. The two ladies go back to texting. The little girls carry on, “ P-U-R-P-L-E,” they sing!!
It became obvious to me that these verses needed to be revised and updated to reflect the time and culture we lived in. Little-Bo Peep lost her sheep so long ago and is still looking for it. Humpty dumpty hasn’t been put together in centuries. I decided to bring this rhyme into the 21stcentury. I reworked it and here it is:
“My mother and your mother were out to lunch. My mother told your mother to slim down.Your mother went and lipo’d her abs.How much fat came out?”
The kids can decide if it’s in pounds or ounces! Here is another one.
“My mother and your mother were at the gym.My mother fell and broke her nose.How much did the new nose cost?”
The kids can decide if it’s in increments of hundreds or thousands of dollars! I thought about making up others… but why? Maybe I’ll work on this one:
“(name) and (name)Sitting in a tree.K-I-S-S-I-N-G.First comes love,Then comes marriage,The comes a babyIn a baby carriage!”
Imagine all the possibilities and angles for the 21stcentury version of this!!!!
For no apparent reason, an old childhood rhyme recently popped into my head. When I was young…..oh so many years ago….. kids chanted these sing-songy rhymes while playing clapping games, jumproping or playing hopscotch and jacks. We even used them to figure out playing order in a game. These humorous, and sometimes outrageously ridiculous poems were extremely popular in the days before kids stuck their faces into I-pads, I-phones and other electronics...when kids actually amused themselves on their own.
The rhyme that came to mind was:
“My mother and your mother were washing dishes.My mother punched your mother right in the nose.What color blood came out?”The child that the rhyme ended on had to pick a color, which was then spelled out.
The first thought that came to mind was….who makes this stuff up? It couldn’t possibly have been a woman, let alone a mother. I had to speculate that it had to be a man!
Now imagine two 21st century suburban soccer moms sitting at a Starbucks, both excusing themselves to check the latest text message beeping on their phones. In the meanwhile, Katelyn and Brianne, their daughters, are playing clapping games and singing, “My mother and your mother were washing dishes.” Both moms look up from their texts and burst out laughing. The girls are curious but continue with their rhyme, “My mother punched your mother right in the nose.” The moms again look up from their phones, this time shocked at what they hear. “Girls this is not a nice thing to sing about! Mommies don’t hit! They ‘use their words’,” exclaims one mom. “Yes we use our words. You know Mommy doesn’t believe in violence,” concurs the other. The two ladies go back to texting. The little girls carry on, “ P-U-R-P-L-E,” they sing!!
It became obvious to me that these verses needed to be revised and updated to reflect the time and culture we lived in. Little-Bo Peep lost her sheep so long ago and is still looking for it. Humpty dumpty hasn’t been put together in centuries. I decided to bring this rhyme into the 21stcentury. I reworked it and here it is:
“My mother and your mother were out to lunch. My mother told your mother to slim down.Your mother went and lipo’d her abs.How much fat came out?”
The kids can decide if it’s in pounds or ounces! Here is another one.
“My mother and your mother were at the gym.My mother fell and broke her nose.How much did the new nose cost?”
The kids can decide if it’s in increments of hundreds or thousands of dollars! I thought about making up others… but why? Maybe I’ll work on this one:
“(name) and (name)Sitting in a tree.K-I-S-S-I-N-G.First comes love,Then comes marriage,The comes a babyIn a baby carriage!”
Imagine all the possibilities and angles for the 21stcentury version of this!!!!
December 13, 2012
Sam and His Pink Shoes
Someone recently sent me an article about a controversy sparked
by a picture of a little boy, Sam, wearing what appeared to be girl’s pink,
zebra- striped flats. The picture,
posted on Facebook, received overwhelming support and LIKES but stirred up a heated
debate on the internet.
Poor
Sam’s mom was criticized by family members who feared that this kind of
behavior might turn him gay!! Wow, if
that were true! Maybe THEY should read
the article published in the journal Pediatrics about a study which found that “children
in lesbian homes scored higher than kids in straight families on some
psychological measures of self-esteem and confidence, did better academically
and were less likely to have behavioral problems, such as rule-breaking and
aggression. “
Read more: http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,1994480,00.html#ixzz2EzVwGM3q
Judging from the picture, Sam appears to be carefree and
confident. He was quoted as saying, “Ninja’s
can wear pink shoes too!” Yes, he is
only 5 and five year olds do not understand they nuances of the adult world.
Five year olds don’t understand racism, bigotry, discrimination or gender specifics.
If they do, it’s only because they
learned it from the adults around them. Really, if you think about it, most 3 and 4 year old boys would love playing with dolls, strollers and the kitchen sets. But somehow the dads, and moms too, feel that
they need to be more manly and start overloading them with Ninja’s, dinosaurs,
race cars and such. Otherwise they might
become too soft!!
I don’t deny that men and women are inherently,
biologically and hormonally different.
In Sweden there was a movement at one school to do away with gender
specific toys and practice gender neutrality in the preschool. Instead of addressing the kids as “him” or “her,”
the teachers referred to the children as “friends",
by their first names, or as "hen" - a genderless pronoun borrowed
from Finnish. I guess that would
be like the English pronoun “it”?
Gender neutrality, as it equates to gender equality, is good. But to totally deny our gender differences is
wrong too. Being more gender neutral does not have to mean referring to
ourselves as IT’s. Gender neutrality is
also not an attack on our masculinity or femininity.
I have 2 boys and I see how different boys and girls can be. They play differently; they interact with each
other differently. But is it because
that is the way we have been programmed to believe for so long? Is it
because WE steer our boys and girls in a certain path…or towards certain toys
or colors…because of our expectations of what it means to be a man or a
women.
The focus on Sam and his shoes makes me ask, is pink
inherently a feminine color? In the early part of the 19th century, fashion magazines promoted pink as
the perfect color for men. Red was
considered a very strong, masculine color, and pink being derived from red, it
was only natural! Blue, on the other
hand, was considered cool and dainty. Go
figure!! Maybe 50 years from now, after
more incidences and debates instigated by the likes of Sam and my son, our
society will decree that pink is gender neutral!!
by a picture of a little boy, Sam, wearing what appeared to be girl’s pink,
zebra- striped flats. The picture,
posted on Facebook, received overwhelming support and LIKES but stirred up a heated
debate on the internet.
Poor
Sam’s mom was criticized by family members who feared that this kind of
behavior might turn him gay!! Wow, if
that were true! Maybe THEY should read
the article published in the journal Pediatrics about a study which found that “children
in lesbian homes scored higher than kids in straight families on some
psychological measures of self-esteem and confidence, did better academically
and were less likely to have behavioral problems, such as rule-breaking and
aggression. “
Read more: http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,1994480,00.html#ixzz2EzVwGM3q
Judging from the picture, Sam appears to be carefree and
confident. He was quoted as saying, “Ninja’s
can wear pink shoes too!” Yes, he is
only 5 and five year olds do not understand they nuances of the adult world.
Five year olds don’t understand racism, bigotry, discrimination or gender specifics.
If they do, it’s only because they
learned it from the adults around them. Really, if you think about it, most 3 and 4 year old boys would love playing with dolls, strollers and the kitchen sets. But somehow the dads, and moms too, feel that
they need to be more manly and start overloading them with Ninja’s, dinosaurs,
race cars and such. Otherwise they might
become too soft!!
I don’t deny that men and women are inherently,
biologically and hormonally different.
In Sweden there was a movement at one school to do away with gender
specific toys and practice gender neutrality in the preschool. Instead of addressing the kids as “him” or “her,”
the teachers referred to the children as “friends",
by their first names, or as "hen" - a genderless pronoun borrowed
from Finnish. I guess that would
be like the English pronoun “it”?
Gender neutrality, as it equates to gender equality, is good. But to totally deny our gender differences is
wrong too. Being more gender neutral does not have to mean referring to
ourselves as IT’s. Gender neutrality is
also not an attack on our masculinity or femininity.
I have 2 boys and I see how different boys and girls can be. They play differently; they interact with each
other differently. But is it because
that is the way we have been programmed to believe for so long? Is it
because WE steer our boys and girls in a certain path…or towards certain toys
or colors…because of our expectations of what it means to be a man or a
women.
The focus on Sam and his shoes makes me ask, is pink
inherently a feminine color? In the early part of the 19th century, fashion magazines promoted pink as
the perfect color for men. Red was
considered a very strong, masculine color, and pink being derived from red, it
was only natural! Blue, on the other
hand, was considered cool and dainty. Go
figure!! Maybe 50 years from now, after
more incidences and debates instigated by the likes of Sam and my son, our
society will decree that pink is gender neutral!!
November 29, 2012
November 14, 2012
Sorry It's Our School Policy!!!
When I wrote my book, Pink is Just a Color and so is
Blue, it was with my younger son in mind. He is now starting to like Ninjago,
Beyblades, Pokemon and other "boy" things but still has an affinity for
the pink and purpley things too.
After the publication of the book, I was really
excited about going into his school and reading the book to his class. It was these
kids that I really wanted to reach with the message of the book. After all,
they were my son’s classmates and friends who interacted with him on a daily
basis. A few of them have had play dates
with my son and I recall one child saying, “He has girl’s toys.” This would be grassroots effort to teach
about tolerance and acceptance.
I asked my son’s teacher if I could come and read
the book to the class. She was excited but needed approval from the
principal. I was told by the principal that
it was the policy of the school not to promote any authors and so I could not come read to my son's class. I had not asked for a letter to go
home announcing my visit or asking parents to buy my book for the occasion. At
first I was upset but decided to approach it differently. I just wanted the message to reach the
children so why not just let the teacher read the book to the class. Instead of just putting the book into my son’s
folder, I gave a copy to the office to give it to his teacher.
After inquiring about it, I received a call back from the principal, who
had the school counselor on the line with her, as a witness apparently. I was told again that as a school policy
not even the teacher could read my book to the class and i should come pick up by book from the office!!
In many
preschools and kindergartens parents are invited to read to the kids or talk
about different things. I taught preschool
and kindergarten for many years before I became a mom. The community sometimes is full of free
teaching resources. Yes, sometimes they
get a little advertising for their businesses too. But these outside, real life resources are a
great learning tool for kids at a young age.
These visits of moms and dads
coming in to talk to the children about different topics ar outweighs the value of any worksheet or lecture. These are tangible experiences that the kids
will remember and learn from. For me,
going to read at my son’s school was not about selling books. It was about spreading a message.
Last year I was told by the principal that it is school
policy that they do not discuss different cultures! I had asked to come and do an art project for
the Indian festival called Diwali. A
good percentage of our school district is Asian. What better way for diverse group of people to
gain cultural understanding of ideas, thoughts and ways. Culturally diverse is not the same as culturally
aware. Though we may live in a culturally
diverse surrounding, understanding and appreciation comes from knowing. I wish
there was a week set aside every year where parents and students of all
backgrounds could go into schools and teach about their respective cultures. I realize schools have international days but
this would be more informative than entertaining.
My first intro into our school was a kid yelling
out from the bus window, “Hey you brown
lady!” Now I understand. There are kids being bullied or teased for wearing turbans, having “funny” accents,
or the smell of their lunches . Then there
kids being harassed for being too “tomboyish”... or not boyish enough. I can only hope that my children will fare
well and not be hurt by the ignorance and intolerance of others. I hope that my son’s friends will understand that
what colors you like and what toys you play with do not mean much. Pink is just a color and so is blue….what truly
matters is what’s deep inside of you! As for our principal, somethings are better left unsaid.....
Blue, it was with my younger son in mind. He is now starting to like Ninjago,
Beyblades, Pokemon and other "boy" things but still has an affinity for
the pink and purpley things too.
After the publication of the book, I was really
excited about going into his school and reading the book to his class. It was these
kids that I really wanted to reach with the message of the book. After all,
they were my son’s classmates and friends who interacted with him on a daily
basis. A few of them have had play dates
with my son and I recall one child saying, “He has girl’s toys.” This would be grassroots effort to teach
about tolerance and acceptance.
I asked my son’s teacher if I could come and read
the book to the class. She was excited but needed approval from the
principal. I was told by the principal that
it was the policy of the school not to promote any authors and so I could not come read to my son's class. I had not asked for a letter to go
home announcing my visit or asking parents to buy my book for the occasion. At
first I was upset but decided to approach it differently. I just wanted the message to reach the
children so why not just let the teacher read the book to the class. Instead of just putting the book into my son’s
folder, I gave a copy to the office to give it to his teacher.
After inquiring about it, I received a call back from the principal, who
had the school counselor on the line with her, as a witness apparently. I was told again that as a school policy
not even the teacher could read my book to the class and i should come pick up by book from the office!!
In many
preschools and kindergartens parents are invited to read to the kids or talk
about different things. I taught preschool
and kindergarten for many years before I became a mom. The community sometimes is full of free
teaching resources. Yes, sometimes they
get a little advertising for their businesses too. But these outside, real life resources are a
great learning tool for kids at a young age.
These visits of moms and dads
coming in to talk to the children about different topics ar outweighs the value of any worksheet or lecture. These are tangible experiences that the kids
will remember and learn from. For me,
going to read at my son’s school was not about selling books. It was about spreading a message.
Last year I was told by the principal that it is school
policy that they do not discuss different cultures! I had asked to come and do an art project for
the Indian festival called Diwali. A
good percentage of our school district is Asian. What better way for diverse group of people to
gain cultural understanding of ideas, thoughts and ways. Culturally diverse is not the same as culturally
aware. Though we may live in a culturally
diverse surrounding, understanding and appreciation comes from knowing. I wish
there was a week set aside every year where parents and students of all
backgrounds could go into schools and teach about their respective cultures. I realize schools have international days but
this would be more informative than entertaining.
My first intro into our school was a kid yelling
out from the bus window, “Hey you brown
lady!” Now I understand. There are kids being bullied or teased for wearing turbans, having “funny” accents,
or the smell of their lunches . Then there
kids being harassed for being too “tomboyish”... or not boyish enough. I can only hope that my children will fare
well and not be hurt by the ignorance and intolerance of others. I hope that my son’s friends will understand that
what colors you like and what toys you play with do not mean much. Pink is just a color and so is blue….what truly
matters is what’s deep inside of you! As for our principal, somethings are better left unsaid.....
November 13, 2012
Pink and Blue....
When my younger was 3, he loved the color pink. I bought him a Dora doll, a stroller and a couple of other dolls he asked for. While in preschool, he wanted My Little Pony, Littlest Petshop and Zoobles, which apparently were marketed mostly to girls. Then one day, I heard my older son telling my younger one that he was “like a girl” because he liked the color pink and enjoyed playing with the kitchen toys . After hearing him taunt his brother, I had to have a serious talk with him. In my mind, teasing like this is what leads to bullying later.
I tried to explain to my older son that they are just toys and pink was just a color like red or blue. I told him how he also liked the color pink when he was little. I needed him to understand that toys and colors did not define who children are. Colors were just colors, and toys were just a way for young children to learn about the bigger world around them. We even talked about how their father loved to cook, so what was the big deal about a little boy playing with the kitchen set.
My two boys became the inspiration for my book, Pink is Just a Color and so is Blue which is available exclusively on Amazon.com.
Anti-bullying and anti-teasing education often starts in middle school. Unfortunately, by this age, many kids already have an engrained set of beliefs and ideals. Research shows that children’s personalities are set by the time they are 5. They have already built a sense of what is right and wrong by the time they are about 10. Teaching kids to be accepting, open minded and accepting should begin when they are 3, 4 and 5 not 10, 11, 12. If they learn young that we don’t all have to fit into a mold, they will become better “tweenagers” and teenagers.
Pink is Just a Color and so is Blue hopes to break some of the old gender stereotypes about children’s toys and gender specific colors. Why should the play kitchen be considered a “girly” toy. Aren’t most chef men? Don’t we want our boys to be nurturing dads and husbands? So what is the big deal with little boys wanting dolls and stroller? Why are all toys for little girls aimed at making them domestic divas or princesses in the land of all things pretty and pink? Don’t we expect that our little girls should be confident, independent and strong women one day? So why limit them in play?
I don’t have girls but growing up I mowed the lawn, helped my father paint and put in tiles. I was athletic and loved sports of all kinds. Most of my best friends in college were men. Today, I love to cook and take care of my boys. But I can also figure out how to fix the chain link in a toilet tank! And I still love to paint!
When my older son was little, I bought a kitchen set for him to play with. If the look on my husband’s face could kill!!! He couldn’t understand why I would buy such a toy for our son. I had to remind him that he was a great cook himself! When our boys were little, he helped to change diapers, bathe them and feed them. To me, that made him a greater man!
I did a little research online to find out more about where the whole notion of pink and blue came from. For instance, in the early 1900’s, all the big fashion magazines promoted the color pink as a great color for men. Being a shade of red, it was considered strong and masculine. Blue on the other hand, was thought to be cool and dainty, and as such was a great color for women! It wasn’t until as late as the 1980’s that pink for girls and blue for boys became a widely accepted norm in our society. This and many other interesting facts I included at the end of Pink is Just a Color and so is Blue in a special “Did You Know? Page.
Pink is a beautiful color. And so is blue. But what is it about our society, that we have this need to put everything in nice little boxes? Why do we have a need to label and categories everything! Why can’t we just let our kids be kids. Let them explore. Isn’t our ultimate goal as parents to assure that our children grow up to be self confident, happy, secure and productive men and women?
If we as adults become more open-minded, then it will automatically flow into our kids. Then maybe our children will be more tolerant and accepting of each other. When kids are accepting, they are less likely to tease or bully. So let’s spread the message that toys are just toys… and Pink is Just a Color and so is Blue!!!!
Niki Bhatia
Pink is Just a Color and so is Blue is available exclusively on Amazon.com
I tried to explain to my older son that they are just toys and pink was just a color like red or blue. I told him how he also liked the color pink when he was little. I needed him to understand that toys and colors did not define who children are. Colors were just colors, and toys were just a way for young children to learn about the bigger world around them. We even talked about how their father loved to cook, so what was the big deal about a little boy playing with the kitchen set.
My two boys became the inspiration for my book, Pink is Just a Color and so is Blue which is available exclusively on Amazon.com.
Anti-bullying and anti-teasing education often starts in middle school. Unfortunately, by this age, many kids already have an engrained set of beliefs and ideals. Research shows that children’s personalities are set by the time they are 5. They have already built a sense of what is right and wrong by the time they are about 10. Teaching kids to be accepting, open minded and accepting should begin when they are 3, 4 and 5 not 10, 11, 12. If they learn young that we don’t all have to fit into a mold, they will become better “tweenagers” and teenagers.
Pink is Just a Color and so is Blue hopes to break some of the old gender stereotypes about children’s toys and gender specific colors. Why should the play kitchen be considered a “girly” toy. Aren’t most chef men? Don’t we want our boys to be nurturing dads and husbands? So what is the big deal with little boys wanting dolls and stroller? Why are all toys for little girls aimed at making them domestic divas or princesses in the land of all things pretty and pink? Don’t we expect that our little girls should be confident, independent and strong women one day? So why limit them in play?
I don’t have girls but growing up I mowed the lawn, helped my father paint and put in tiles. I was athletic and loved sports of all kinds. Most of my best friends in college were men. Today, I love to cook and take care of my boys. But I can also figure out how to fix the chain link in a toilet tank! And I still love to paint!
When my older son was little, I bought a kitchen set for him to play with. If the look on my husband’s face could kill!!! He couldn’t understand why I would buy such a toy for our son. I had to remind him that he was a great cook himself! When our boys were little, he helped to change diapers, bathe them and feed them. To me, that made him a greater man!
I did a little research online to find out more about where the whole notion of pink and blue came from. For instance, in the early 1900’s, all the big fashion magazines promoted the color pink as a great color for men. Being a shade of red, it was considered strong and masculine. Blue on the other hand, was thought to be cool and dainty, and as such was a great color for women! It wasn’t until as late as the 1980’s that pink for girls and blue for boys became a widely accepted norm in our society. This and many other interesting facts I included at the end of Pink is Just a Color and so is Blue in a special “Did You Know? Page.
Pink is a beautiful color. And so is blue. But what is it about our society, that we have this need to put everything in nice little boxes? Why do we have a need to label and categories everything! Why can’t we just let our kids be kids. Let them explore. Isn’t our ultimate goal as parents to assure that our children grow up to be self confident, happy, secure and productive men and women?
If we as adults become more open-minded, then it will automatically flow into our kids. Then maybe our children will be more tolerant and accepting of each other. When kids are accepting, they are less likely to tease or bully. So let’s spread the message that toys are just toys… and Pink is Just a Color and so is Blue!!!!
Niki Bhatia
Pink is Just a Color and so is Blue is available exclusively on Amazon.com
