Is name-calling necessary?

Last weekend, a friend of mine celebrated his birthday at a local eating establishment. I thought Aliyah and I would just stop by for a short while since none of her friends would be there. Little did I know…

We found our party sitting on the outdoor patio that faces a large, open, fenced area built as a concert venue. It took Aliyah all of 2.5 minutes to find three other kids close to her size, and then only 1.6 minutes to establish a close enough friendship with them that allowed them to run around and play together for the next 3 hours. Anyone watching would have thought them life-long friends.

Eventually, one of the other children’s mother came over to introduce herself and her son to me. Of course, the first information we exchanged was our names. “I’m Elizabeth,” she said, “and this is Xavier.” This boy’s name was obviously new information to Aliyah, and when asked whether he knew her name, Xavier looked confused.

Initially I laughed at this. They had been playing together like old friends for 3 hours and didn’t even know each other’s names? Ah, those silly children.

Later, it occurred to me that this is regular behavior for Aliyah. For weeks now she’s been playing with a few children at Ultimate Frisbee, and she still refers to them as her “Frisbee friends,” because she doesn’t know any of their names. It’s not that my child is strange; another mom told me that her daughter referred to Aliyah as “that girl I was playing with at Frisbee,” and has no idea what her name is.

Being the responsible parent I am, my first thought was that this is a skill I need to teach Aliyah. Introduce yourself in the beginning. Learn names. Remember names. Names are important.

But then I took a step back and considered further. Who really has something to learn here? Aliyah forms fun, satisfying friendships quickly and easily. She and her friends skip over all those initial pleasantries which adults find necessary. Not only do they not exchange names, but they also don’t share which schools they attend, family of origin data, outside hobbies and activities, what kind of car their parents drive, where they live, or what kind of music they listen to. And the assumptions they make! You’re my size, you’re here, you obviously want to play with me, and you’re going to be the tiger first while I’m the princess who is lost in the woods.

Yet we saavy adults, who know the correct stages of friendship and have mastered small talk can spend weeks or months forming a friendship in which we are comfortable enough to act silly or laugh without restraint.

But at least we know each other’s names, right? Seriously, what’s the point? And at what age was the natural ability to form bonds with one another trained out of us?

The Buddha in you

Last Sunday I attended Buddhist meditation at Unity Temple on the Plaza. I had no idea what to expect, really, though I figured it would be a fairly quiet service, what with meditating and all.

What a wonderful experience it was. You can read my reflections here.

Cinderella was a pathetic loser

It started as an innocent literary assignment. I read my class the Grimm brothers’ version of “Cinderella,” then, in groups of two, they chose versions from different countries, identified the differences in their version, and researched the country.

It had been a long time since I’d read the Grimm version, and though I wasn’t expecting any kind of feminist ideals, I still found myself rolling my eyes more than a little. I mean, really Cinderella. Anytime you wish for something under the hazel tree the birds bring it to you, and yet you haven’t bothered to wish for the items or resources to allow you to leave your cruel stepmother? Wus. And perhaps rather than crying over her mother’s grave three times a day she should have bucked up even a modicum of courage and done something with her life.

And seriously, her mother’s dying request was that Cinderella (whom the Grimm brothers never bother to give a real name) be pious and good. Come on, mom. I can think of a lot of words I would give my daughter on my deathbed, and “be sure to remain pious and good,” are not among them.

Humility, obedience, piety, small feet- these were the desirable qualities in a woman, passed down from generation to generation, and the fairy tales enumerated the prizes available to women who met these standards: beauty, a rich husband, and the ability to speak to birds.

The sexism of classic fairy tales is not earth-shattering news, but its insidious hold on our social consciousness has struck me this week. Last weekend one of my cousins told her mothers that she wanted to watch a romantic movie with a strong female lead. Not such an easy request to fulfill, as it turned out. Even where piety and obedience have been expunged, helplessness, neediness, and stupidity still reign supreme.

Which reminds me- this Saturday night some local theaters are showing all 3 Twilight movies in a row for one low price!

There was a time when mothers passed down these virtues to their daughters as a matter of survival, but that time has passed. Cinderella, while an interesting study in literature and culture, no longer holds value for women.

Except for the talking with the birds bit. That’s pretty cool.

Q:What happens when a bishop confuses himself with god?

A: He makes god look like an asshole.

I had to read this story a couple of times for it to really sink in. A Catholic bishop in Phoenix, AZ, excommunicated a nun who, in her role as an administrator at a local hospital, approved an abortion for a woman who, doctors agreed, had 0% chance of survival if her pregnancy wasn't terminated immediately.

One priest, defending the bishop's actions, equated the nun's decision with priests who molest children. Except, of course, the priests aren't excommunicated, because they have penises.

Read more here.