Ode to Minecraft

For this post, I am simply going to share a poem that my 13 year old son wrote.  He was given an assignment in his 8th grade Language Arts class--write an ode that is at least eight lines long.  Here's what he came up with:

Ode to Minecraft©

In the starting menu, click single player survive,

and all you have to do is thrive.

When you start the game, everything's blocks,

even you, from your hair to your socks.

And what is it that you do all this time?

All you do is mine and mine and mine.

You have to find diamonds to make a diamond pick axe,

then mine away at some obsidian and all you'll hear is "tick, tack."

You use the obsidian to make a nether portal,

and in this new dimension your wounds will become mortal.

Inside the nether you'll hope you have a sword

because if you attack a zombie pig, you'll be chased by an entire horde.

If you listen carefully, you'll hear a painful scream,

and if you look up in the sky, you'll find your worst dream.

You will see a ghast, if you look up in the sky,

and if you have a wooden house, you'll begin to cry.

When you go back through your portal, you will be relieved

to see every single one of your luscious trees.

But in the night, while building a house, you start to hear a hissing.

That noise is coming from something that you weren't missing.

It is a green creeper that is about to explode

and before it does you shout "No! No! NO!!"

When he blows up, your house is gone,

and then you say, "That's it! I am done!"

Hear me roar!

I am not a number.  

Not a number on the scale.  

Not a number on a tag inside my clothes. 

Not an age.  

I am a person.  

I am a woman--a happy, healthy, good woman. 

There have been several recent stories in the news centered on weight, BMI, dieting, and eating disorders.  I just read an article that Katie Couric struggled with bulimia for years when she was younger. Lady Gaga has revealed that she's been dealing with anorexia and bulimia since she was 15. I have known several others personally who have battled through an eating disorder.  I know MANY women who grapple with poor body image every day.  The negative talk. The self-loathing. The guilt. The comparisons to other women who look "better" than we do. Who have the "perfect" (insert body part that we desire here).  Well, that woman with the "perfect" _______ probably isn't happy with herself either. She's very likely seeking a "better" body part too. She doesn't like her feet, ears, hair, boobs, thighs, etc. We've been trained--by magazines, movies, Barbie dolls, our parents, our families, our friends--to find our imperfections. And we've been good trainees.

Why do we do this?  Why do we continue to pressure ourselves to be "perfect" when no such thing exists? Why do we allow others to define our value and worth based on stupid numbers and exterior qualities? That's not what we teach our children.  We teach them that who people are is what matters, not what they look like, right? Don't judge a book by its cover.

Maybe it's time we learn more from our kids. My son has taught me a wonderful lesson.  In full disclosure, he is a Mama's Boy ... he loves me completely ... he thinks I'm the cat's pajamas ... the bees knees. And he thinks I am soft--in a comforting, cuddly kind of way. He has told me many times that he loves my squishy belly.  When he would first talk about it I was completely bothered because I am sensitive about that. It's a flaw. A way that I am not "perfect." And he was drawing attention to it. But then I realized what his honest intention was when he said it. Affectionate, sincere, loving, pure. He was using a kind and tender tone of voice, not mocking.  I was hearing taunting--from my negative head voice, not because it was intended or projected. But I was looking for it. My son loves my squishy belly because it's soft and tender and Mommy. Now when I start to feel frustrated with my "fluff" as I call it, when I'm feeling "imperfect," I hear a sweet voice that says "soft." Changing this thought process isn't easy. It's a work in progress. But it's a worthwhile task, for all of us women so that we don't train the next generation the same way we've been trained.

As my daughter eases into the time when she will be setting that voice in her head, I am doing everything I can to build a positive body image. I want her to be happy with herself just as she is. I want her to focus on being happy and healthy ... not perfect. Not defined by numbers.

I am ...

I've had a lot going on in my life these past few months.  From my dad's unexpected and very serious illness this spring which had me traveling to North Carolina three times in six weeks while worrying about him and dealing with the stress and busyness of coordinating the communication to siblings, aunts / uncles, cousins and friends ... to the fairly unanticipated news that my husband is being transferred in his job and we'll be moving from Michigan to Pennsylvania this summer.  This has brought other stress and busyness, not the least of which includes helping my 11 year old daughter and nearly 13 year old son deal with the emotional struggle of moving away from everything they've ever known--friends, schools, classmates, teachers, neighbors, doctors ... everything. My life has been a roller coaster of emotions since April and I'll be honest:  I want my boring, plain life back.

There are many expressions to help people deal with difficult and stressful times like these and I've heard them all over and over.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.  

God doesn't give you more than you can handle.  

Challenges are opportunities in disguise.  

Everything happens for a reason.  

Blah, blah, blah. At least that's how I felt in the throes of all that has been going on. Take your cute little adages and shove 'em, right?!

I'm feeling a lot better about all of this lately--still a lot going on, no doubt, but I no longer walk around with a knot in my stomach.  I still don't sleep much, but that is getting better. I don't shed tears every day--that's progress. And I have come back to a point where I believe the words that come in those sayings meant to help and offer comfort.  I feel like I have learned more about myself lately ... and that just might be the reason there's been so much going on in my life.  I needed a lesson in Jen.  A good look at Me. Time to search the soul. This is a continuous journey ... and maybe I was a little complacent with looking in the mirror while I enjoyed my easy, boring, quiet life. I've discovered and re-discovered a few things.

I am strong, fierce, passionate.
I stand up for the people I care about. Always. And without apology.
I will drop everything when my family is in need.
I am emotional. I feel everything. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I don't hide that.
I cry in front of anyone--my kids, my husband, my students, my principal, my friends.
I cannot hold my stress for more than a few days before it is released--usually in tears.
I don't hide how I feel.
I need my friends and family.
I am annoyed by stupid people--not lacking intelligence, but those who don't use what they have.
I am sarcastic, opinionated, independent.
I work hard to make good things happen.
I am a realist with a positive attitude.
I am a good friend.
I believe in the good of others.
I am lucky to have such a wonderful husband and two amazing kids.
I have really fantastic parents, siblings and family who care so much for me.
I couldn't have better, more sympathetic friends who offer constant support and thoughtfulness.
I appreciate funny, silly thoughts to lighten the mood.
I am a dork.
I make mistakes.
I try to be a good person. Some days are better than others.

I am complicated & simple, excitable & laid back, passionate & mellow, organized & a mess.

I talk ... when I'm happy, when I'm overwhelmed, when I'm stressed, when I'm nervous.

I am grateful. For my dad's improving health. That my husband still has a job. That this move is timed during the summer making the transition easier and less stressful. That we have had seven great years in this fantastic community surrounded by so many good people.

I am confident--that everything will work out just like it's supposed to for us.

Chardon

This has been a week of tears, sadness, disbelief, shock and concern.  It has also been a week of pride, support, connection and unity. Emotions have run high and been incredibly varied--fear, worry, surprise, distress, confusion, desperation, sorrow, anguish, guilt, pride, sympathy, helplessness, anger, frustration, love.


Parents look at their children through different eyes. Students see their teachers in a new light. The nation observes a small community under a spotlight. We have experienced the tragic events and losses in Chardon from different perspectives, processed in our own way, connected from our own small worlds. And we have all come together as One Heartbeat.


I cannot imagine the Grief of the students, the teachers, the parents at CHS.  I cannot imagine the Heartache of the families and friends of the victims. I cannot imagine the Pain of the family and friends of TJ.  I cannot imagine what the community of Chardon has lived this week.


For my friends at CHS, for the families so deeply affected, for all of Chardon I have sincere sympathy. I grieve for you. My heart aches for you. I support you. And I feel so much pride. Hilltoppers from all over the state, the country and world have connected, united, come together. We stand with you. We stand behind you. We are Chardon. We are Hilltoppers. We are One Heartbeat.

Teenagers today ...

A lot of people are talking about teenagers these days. There are some who believe that this youthful generation is not living up to the standard of those who have come before. This generation of teens is lazy. They are disrespectful. They cause trouble. They are selfish. Unreliable. They have no work ethic. They are mouthy. Greedy. Reckless. Dangerous. Today's teens are Rude. Freeloaders. Immoral. Untrustworthy. Punks. Vandals.

I've heard a lot of Evidence:  saggy pants, hats turned sideways, loud music full of swearing,  sleep all day / up all night, glued to the TV / Xbox / computer / cellphone, driving too fast, sexting, graffiti, low-rise jeans, belly shirts, piercings everywhere, boys with holes in their ears, mohawks, blue / purple / green / pink hair, boys wearing nail polish, all-black clothes, drinking, partying, casual sex. The list is long. Much longer than this.

I've seen all of that Evidence. It is true. There are teenagers everywhere that could be labeled Exhibit A, B, C, etc. There is Evidence in every high school, at the mall, in the local movie theater. Teenagers hanging out = Evidence.

However, most of the Evidence has applied to every generation. Think Grease. Elvis the Pelvis. Make Love Not War. Dead Heads. Purple Haze. Purple Rain. Sex, Drugs and Rock 'n Roll.

Most of the Evidence is exterior. It doesn't speak to character. Or Standards. Morals. Values--or Value. Saggy pants, painted nails, piercings ... none of those tells us anything about the interior.

I wish that I could gather up the cynics, the critics, those who sneer at teenagers and only see the Evidence and furrow their brow and cross their arms. I wish that I could take those people to school with me. I wish that they could stand at the door of any classroom, every classroom, with me and hear the Good Mornings and Good Afternoons. Hear How Are You Today?  I'm Fine, Thank You. How Are You? I wish they could see the smiles and waves. I wish they could see how affectionate teenagers are with each other--boys and girls in every combination--not because it's sexual, but because they care about each other. I want them to see teenagers holding doors for adults and their peers. I want them to see teenagers share. I want them to see teenagers show sympathy and concern for those who are struggling. I want them to see teenagers' support and excitement for accomplishments and victories. I want them to see teenagers who work hard, study, ask questions, participate in class, volunteer, stay on task. I want them to see teenagers who make signs to decorate the school and lockers to celebrate their friends and peers. I want them to see teenagers who are honest and kind and thoughtful. I want them to see teenagers who want to do well. And want to do good. I want them to see teenagers who make mistakes. I want them to see teenagers who fall short of their best but try again. I want them to hear teenagers say I'm Sorry.

I want them to see teenagers as they really are ... human.

This generation of teenagers is no different than any before. Some teens make mistakes. Big mistakes. Some sell themselves short. Some break the law. Some are inconsiderate. Some are selfish. Some pick fights. Use hurtful words. Cause damage to themselves or those around them. Just like some of the adults in this world.

Most teenagers, though, are Good People.