At, from, about… school

Every day there is a funny story from school, that keeps us in splits. Oftentimes, O (8 years old) doesn’t find any of this funny, and is only recounting incidents or exchanges, as was. The last two Wednesdays (and 2 more to go) I’ve been going to her school to do a writing workshop with grade 6 students, and so I’m coming back with crazy anecdotes of my own.

Mr Honest

O: Maths teacher threw S out of class today.

Umm: Why?

 O: Because every time teacher enters the class he would say ‘oh! no’; so teacher asked him why he did that, and he said because her classes were boring.

 

Early lessons in genetics

O: Amma, H’s younger brother doesn’t look like her at all.

Umm: It happens…

O: He doesn’t look like her mother either. H and her mother look alike. But he has blue eyes, Barbie blond hair and light peach (sic) skin.

Umm: Maybe like her father?

O: No father also looks different.

Umm: But don’t go ask her all this…

O: I didn’t ask H… but M (O’s best pal) did

 

 

Autograph please, just in case…

After Wednesday 2

Boy 1: Ma’am, give me your autograph.

Me: Are you crazy, no…

Boy 2: Why not?

Me: I’ll give you when I’m famous.

Boy 1: But we won’t be able to meet you, if you are famous, no?

Me: No, don’t worry, I’ll meet you.

Boy 2: What if you don’t become famous?

Me: **Controlling hysterical giggling fit exits the class**

 

 

First impressions

O: Amma, I want to go to India forever, to be with ammamma, ammachi and everyone.

Umm: OK, but amma and appa have to find a job first.

O: Why?

Umm: How else will we live there, we need money right?

O: Can’t ammamma and all take care of us?

**sigh! Can’t then?**

 O: Amma, but will there be good schools in India.

Umm: Of course, all of us studied there, didn’t we?

O: So, not all schools there are like ‘orphanages’, is it?

(Her only visit to a school in India was when we went to provide lunch for a school for deaf and dumb children from neighbouring slums, so she assumed that all schools were that way.)

 

Let’s resurrect Roald Dahl, by daughter is upset

After immersing herself in a Dahl book (gifted by RenJay), that also had a bit of his biography at the back

 O: Amma, Roald Dahl is dead. So sad, amma.

Umm: He was very old O. It’s ok.

O: I know, but he has written only nine books, what will I do after I have finished all of those?

… to be continued

‘TODAY I DID NOT WASTE MONEY ON A FAIRNESS PRODUCT’.

Here is a call for action. I am not asking for money. In fact, I’m asking you to SAVE some.

I am beyond fed up with the bl***y colour crusade. If it’s not fairness, it’s lightening, brightening, or some such bullsh*t lotions and potions.

I know that many of us are closet users. In a group, we would all talk about how the colour of our skin doesn’t matter, but when we see the next crap advertisement, it at some level does.

Now if it’s just my self esteem or that of my peers, it wouldn’t upset me so much. It’s the effect these have on my daughter – O, and children of her age.

Every time one of these ads crop up on television, for my benefit, O parrots back to me my lecture: “Colour of your skin does not matter, no amma? Being fair is not being beautiful, no amma? Being happy and smiling is what makes us beautiful, no amma?”

And with every ‘no amma’, her eyes go back to the TV. There are messages far stronger than mine that are influencing her — if not in the media, then it’s her friends who talk about dark equals ugly, about how the fair classmates are ‘pretty’. We can probably still ignore this as child talk – but the parents turn out to be real scary.

One parent I met, mourned and groaned about how she wished her daughter, instead of her son, had been ‘blessed’ with lighter skin. I was seething: how I wish the children had been ‘blessed’ with a saner mother!

More than one person has asked R & me how O or N turned out fair (or fairer than us, because the two of us are totally brown).  ‘A tablespoon of bleach with milk, through the pregnancy,’ is what I offer as advice and answer.

Now, back to the potion-trap.

We all find excuses to fall for it – ‘my skin is dull, it’s not to become fairer’ or ‘it’s for the spots, not for the skin colour’…

I am not passing judgments here, especially since I’ve spent enough hours rubbing lemon on my neck and potatoes on my face, in my teens.

Anyways, it’s not about self esteem alone; it’s about the health hazards these lotions pose. The chemicals, bleach, metal that constitute the ‘skin lighteners’.

I can’t fight Hindustan Lever, John Abraham, Preity Zinta and Dhoni (why the heck does this guy need to be fair skinned?!).

All I want is a dozen mums or aunts or sisters to swear off these products to set an example to the little girls in their life. Just a dozen and I would be content.

Let’s do this:

Line up all the lotions in your shelf – am sure hidden amongst the foundations and moisturisers is a bottle or two self-esteem-murdering, elixir-of–false-promises. Pick up those tubes or tubs, and bin it.

I had this bottle on my shelf. A Nuxe brightening cream that was sent along with a PR, and which I did use a couple of times. It’s now wrapped in N’s dirty diaper and put to rest.

Next, either on a sticky post if your blog allows it, or on the header, or somewhere on your page, put up something on these lines: ‘TODAY I DID NOT WASTE MONEY ON A FAIRNESS PRODUCT’ or ‘TODAY I PROTECTED MY SELF ESTEEM FROM A FAIRNESS CREAM’  or any message that fits your thoughts best.

We owe this to our daughters, nieces and sisters. We owe it to ourselves.

The day the line goes missing, maybe a few of us will take the effort to pass on a reminder again.

To kick off my little campaign, I am tagging those of you with little girls in your life. So that’s TEESU, DEEPS, INBA, SHYAM, SOLILO, MM, WORDJUNKIE, SANGI, SINDHU, APARAJITA, LAKHS, and the rest of the YOUs who believe strongly enough in this.

censorship at home. where do we draw the line?

I’m really confused, and more than a bit worried too…

How much is too much information?

How much is too much access to the internet?

How much is too much control?

… too much monitoring?

…too much leeway?

When you are a parent, the questions always outnumber the answers by some 400%.

Till O was nearly 2, we hardly ever let her watch TV. There were a couple of films that we watched together — ice age, lion king.

Then I took up a full time job, we grew lax, we realised the TV doubled as a good baby sitter. Not too often, nor too long. But often enough and long enough for her to be totally bitten by the idiot bug.

O is 8 now and TV is largely regulated. Not on school days, not certain types of programmes, not when there are guests at home or friends are over to play… Still she managed to get enough of Hannah Montana to become obsessed with the celebrity!

R & I are careful about what films we take her to, what sites she browses, what programmes she watches on the telly.

I am sure she feels wronged because most of her friends have unlimited access to hindi films and television; but she has grudgingly accepted our rules that she can watch programmes or films that are about children of her age. When she gets to her teens she can watch Camp Rock and Montana…

Now comes the trickier censoring. Internet. She usually is on subscribers-only sites. Sites that either R or I have vetted, and for a few, paid for.

But O is at home only for about 5 waking hours a day during the week. The rest of the time is spent at school or activities with other children (some of her age, some older). Children who know enough to fib about their age to get on to facebook; who know the lyrics for every latest hindi song and also the moves to match every dimwit heroine there is; children who dress like Hannah Montana; kids who make O feel uncool because she doesn’t know what Miley Cyrus did for her birthday and how Rancho’s friend hanged to death; children who hush her up when she talks of Captain Haddock and Pippi Longstocking, because it sounds like gibberish.

Suddenly, Barbie no longer seems evil. Barbie actually is child’s play compared the rest of the stuff out there …

Most recently I had a long argument with her friend. who was sleeping over, on why I will not allow her to access facebook (firs at 11 p, then again at 10 am), even if she might use it regularly at her own house. “No, even if O decides to stay in her room or shut her eyes, you can’t use facebook now. You can play,” I persisted equally stubbornly, as O looked on visibly embarrassed.

Later in the day, as I explained to O on how the Internet could be as unsafe as walking in the middle of road, or wandering off alone in a mall, she cried, “but everybody does.”

Is that a good enough reason to give in? Because everybody does and I don’t want my daughter to feel left out?

What is to stop her from accessing proscribed sites and watching films we don’t let her, when she is out with her friends.

She did say ‘no’ when asked to watch 3 Idiots at a friend’s place, because ‘my mother won’t like it’ — though I wouldn’t have really minded that, it’s safer than a lot of other crap out there.

What if it’s something really appealing? Like the entire season of Hannah Montana or even worse, Veer? I am sure there’d be times she would watch, and handle me later. Or watch and not tell me at all. There may be times when she goes on to facebook or myspace instead of kidzui, and I would be none the wiser.

The Internet really scares me. Even adults don’t know how best to handle all the information out there, so how discerning can children be?

That brings me back to the questions that keeps me up at night… how much control is too much? how much freedom is excessive?

grace under pressure

today i spent a little over an hour with Aseel Al Awadhi, one of the four women elected to the Kuwaiti Parliament in 2009 — a first for the country, that has the oldest constitution in the GCC and is the first constitutional monarchy in the region.

she is in town to deliver a lecture, and the actual interview will appear in my titles — but i HAD to blog about her.

a ph.d. in political philosophy, she has an amazing way of dealing with her critics/detractors. she breaks down the premises from which they come with such eloquence; rationalises those opposing viewpoints in a much better fashion than the critics themselves could. and with that she exposes them for what they are, without any falsification, disrespect or anger.

it’s not easy being who she is in the region as a whole, and only marginally easier in Kuwait.

more power to your elbow, lady.

only commerce will let religions co-exist

Here is the proof of that:

A very Arab-Muslim design and memento, comprising an ancient Christian symbol – a fish eye medallion, and the Hindu pop star Pillaiyar (Ganesha).

I picked this up from the Doha Trade Fair from a Turkish stall. I am going to make regular visits to see if the stall still stocks these (shiva/parvathi, lakshmi etc are also available) or has been forced to take it off display.