"Make a Difference!"

So when I took two of my teenagers to the Illinois Holocaust Museum & Education Center in Skokie, IL Saturday, I had NO idea what an experience was in store for us!

My kids are somewhat Holocaust Museum connoisseurs, they have been to museums all over the country on school and family trips. I was excited to go and see this beautiful newer center but I do not share their love of the study of the Holocaust, per say.

Let me just clairify, this is not an endorsement of the Illinois Holocaust Museum, just the personal story about my experience there with my family. However, I would like to point out that IHM&EC did invited myself and other ABCters to participate in teacher trainings that they host regarding bullying and acceptance. We were honored and excited to attend and learned a lot from them :)

So, back to my story... We walked through their main exhibition for hours - reading the abundant plaques, watching videos, listening to stories of survivors and perusing the rare artifacts. We were all immediately horrified by merely standing inside the authentic German rail car they have on display, the type used in Nazi deportations. H.O.R.R.I.F.I.E.D!

 

 

We continued on to their current special exhibit, "Keep Calm and Carry On", about the history of the textile industry and studied many pieces of artwork in their gallery filled with artist's depictions of the Holocaust. We were saving the Room of Remembrance and the Hall of Reflection for the end of our visit.

 

Well before we left the first level of the Center, I told my teens, "let's check out the children's area". It is designed for kids ages 8-12 and my kids seemed less than thrilled by the idea but they happily followed along. (They're awesome like that).

 

All I can say is when I walked into "The Harvey L. Miller Family Youth Exhibition" I was immediately blown away. I mean, being the Anti-Bullying enthusiast that I am, I believe I heard the Angels sing... 'aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaa'! This was the very first thing that I saw when I walked in:

 

 

Then this:

 

 

 

Welcome to "Make a Difference!", the exhibit that teaches children they have the power to be upstanders, not bystanders. L.O.V.E. First set of computer monitors is where you can createe your own "Upstander Oath". Here's mine:

 

 

Everyone gets to sit at a computer, pick their three favorite pledges then add them to their personal oath. They can print it off and sign it there, email it home, or both. It's awesome! My kids chose, "Brighten the world and smile often!", "Get involved" and "Lead by being a good example", just to name a few. (Yes, I'm super proud of them!). There are private computer stations where children can share their personal bullying story without fear. And there are inspiring signs and screens EVERYWHERE:

 

 

 

Just imagine a world where THESE were the message children were seeing everyday. Imagine a community where adults were living by these words. Just I.M.A.G.I.N.E. what a different world this would be? The power of one is real, that's why at ABC we say " <3 Together We Can <3 " Each one of us alone, yet each one of us together, we can make this the atmosphere in our communities, in our schools, and in our homes... We just have to DO IT! And then we have to inspire others to DO IT too!!! And then we can't idly stand by, we MUST speak up to injustices each and every time we have the opportunity.

 

The Holocaust was bullying. Genocide, still in existence today, IS bullying! Racism, sexism, anti-religious AND rigid pro-religious are all bullies. Homophobias are based on beliefs of ignorant bullies. Mean girls are bullies. Angry boys are bullies, social isolation is bullying, segregated countries and neighborhoods are based on bullying. These situations can ALL be eliminated by ONE person standing up, YOU! All of us should read the six signs above and write down our answers... this could be our personal 2014 New Year's Oath!

 

I will not give away all of the secrets of the amazingness of The Harvey L. Miller Family Youth Exhibition, but I will tell you this... If you live within driving distance or you are EVER in the area - GO. Don't think about going - GO. And maybe you're even lucky enough to have something like this available in your area of the world - GO. And if there is nothing available - maybe THIS is YOUR chance to make it happen. Start a movement. Start a lesson plan. Start or continue to stand up!

 

 

And as we left our amazing experience, thinking it just could not get any better. We walk up to the gift shop on our way out and there is the sweetest most soft spoken man sitting at a table outside the doors. We walked into the shop and looked around, the next thing I hear was this little tap on the window from the foyer. The little Mister summonsed me to him which I of course immediately obliged. He told me his name was Joseph and he was a survivor. I took his hand and told him I was SO glad that he was. And not only a survivor but a warrior to fight threw all of the mental anguish he must have felt in the years since. He just looked at me with a tear welling up in his eye and nodded yes. I asked if I could give him a hug, he replied "but of course!" in his thick accent and opened his arms. He gave me a true hug, a loving, appreciative, grandfatherly hug. I loved it! Then he handed me a copy of his book and said "This book, it's my story of how I made it". He had autographed a copy for me, it's called "I CHOOSE LIFE - Memories of a Holocaust Survivor Joseph Koenig" by Beth Hawkins Benedix So then,  as any self respecting gentleman would do, he planted a kiss on my lips and then gave me another HUGE HUG and we shook hands for a few more minutes looking into each others eyes. I never once felt sorry for him, I just am SO happy he survived and even more appreciative that he's willing to volunteer at the IHM&EC so that we can meet him, hug him and tell him we are proud of him.

 

 

I bet Joseph Koenig has been an upstander a time or two in his life. BE. LIKE. JOE.

 

Aunt T~



 







 

 

A Chance to Grow

I am always grateful when I see articles about bullying in the media today; not because someone is being bullied, but because people are starting to realize that bullying is NOT something that a child should have to deal with, or simply a rite of passage. I am grateful that is starting to be recognized as child abuse and there are resources for children to turn to, adults to help stop the act, and organizations for empowerment. This topic hits close to home for me because I was bullied in high school, much to the amazement of people who know me today. I went through puberty very early, and starting in middle school my large breast size became on object of ridicule for my classmates. Whether it was out of jealousy or just plain cruelness, I was tormented on a daily basis. I was called vile names and false rumors were spread about me, making it even worse. There was nobody I felt I could turn to, no one I felt that I could talk to, not even my parents. I was so unsure of myself, felt so ashamed, and seemed to be so alone. As a result of this, I did things I never thought that I would do in order to be accepted by others, and ended up being a teenage mother at the age of 16, the only thing I will publicly admit to ;-) Thankfully, I was taken away from that environment and went to an Alternative School in the city. Here I began to flourish and gain the self confidence and acceptance that all children need and desire. Thankfully, I was able to grow and put behind me everything that happened to me early in my high school years, and I thought that I was completely over it. Fast forward 15 years: These days I am the president of the parent group at my daughter’s school. The Friday before school started, the principal called me. She had a new family to the school who lived a long ways from the school, but not far enough to be considered bussing district. The dad called her and explained that they were a one car family and he was wondering if there was anyone close to him that would be willing to car pool, and she thought of me since we live just a couple of blocks away from them. I told her absolutely, another mom and I who lived close would work something out. The principal gives me his phone number and says “His name is Mr. __________” My heart felt like it skipped a couple of beats, my pen froze. I know this man. I ask her what his first name is and she says that she didn’t get it and asks me if I know him. I tell her I am pretty sure that I do because the last name is very unique; I knew he was one of my biggest tormenters all those years ago. She asks me where I know him from, and this amazing, fantastic, self-confident woman that I am is too ashamed to tell her. I immediately felt the same way I did as a sophomore in school, sitting in my school desk red faced, ashamed to tears, hunched over trying to block everything out while this person and his friend made “jokes” about me. I told the principal I would set something up for them, and quickly got off the phone. I didn’t make the phone call that day. I didn’t make the call the whole weekend. Instead I debated on what to do. Reflected on what this person did to me and tried to decide if I was going to help him, even if it was passing along the duty to another mom who lived a couple of blocks down the street. Trust me, the adolescent in me did not want to help him at all. I wanted to get back at him, to get even in some small way, even if it was only making him walk 1.3 miles twice a day to pick his child up from school. But there was his child to think about, making a child suffer because of the sins of his father isn’t the type of person I feel like I am. Walking that far isn’t too bad now, but when it is raining or 10 degrees Fahrenheit out, it would be much worse. The weekend passed and Monday rolled around, I had to make a decision that day, one way or another. I took a deep breath and made the call, hoping he wouldn’t answer. Of course he did, and when I asked him his first name, it was who I thought it was. Once again, while in his “presence” I ashamed of myself, but this time it was because I was tripping and fumbling over my words. Damn it! At this point in the conversation he has NO idea who I am, and I am far from the person I was back then, why can’t I get my composure together? After a few minutes of conversation I finally feel like my old self. He explains his predicament, and I surprisingly hear myself volunteering to pick his son up for school on Wednesday. The relief he feels when he knows someone is going to help him is apparent in his voice. As we are wrapping up the conversation, he asks me for my name again, and I tell him. Feeling a surge of self-confidence, I tell him my maiden name. There is a pause on the line, and I let the silence spread out. What is he thinking? Does he remember me? Does he have ANY idea of what pain he caused me? Finally he answers me with a simple “I remember you! We went to school together!” Really? That’s it? I don’t know what I expected, but that surely was not it. We end the conversation and get off the phone, and I sit and try to reign in my galloping heart. The very next night after the initial phone call (Tuesday) I ran into him at the school’s open house. I found myself in conversation with him and his son, a real, casual conversation. I helped him find his way around the school, introduced him to his teacher and the principal, and helped make them both feel more comfortable for the first day of school the next day. At some point during the first week of school, I found out that my son’s cross country coach was not going to be able to coach the team this year, and asked Mr. ________ if he was interested in coaching (I had learned that he was trying to get a coaching position in the school system over the summer but didn’t get hired for the position), and he is now my son’s coach. This past weekend I found out that his wife’s brother’s family were victims of a house fire, and without thinking was working on getting donations set up for them. AS the school’s parent group leader I was working last week on setting up a donation drive for armed service members when my son mentioned that Coach P said he served in the Army, so I called him up and asked him if he would like to co-chair the drive with another retired service member at the school. It has only been two weeks since school has started and I am continually surprised by my actions. Neither of us has mentioned what happened all those years ago; I don’t know if he is ashamed by the way he acted or if he truly doesn’t remember, and you can bet that I am NOT going to be the one who brings it up. I often wonder WHY I am so nice to him now when for years I fantasized about some harm falling upon him. Then, in a moment of contemplation, I realize that he is the reason I am so nice to him. He and all the others who ruined my first two years of school have helped mold me into the person I am today. I like to think that I am a caring, compassionate, and empathetic person and I know that it is because I know what it feels like to be nothing; to have nothing. Never in a million years did I think that an opportunity like this would come up; a chance to help one of the people who I hated. Never did I think I would be presented with this chance to grow as a person and as a human being. And now that is has, I am happy with the choice I have made; regardless of what happened in high school, I have helped this families life today. As Ralph Waldo Emmerson said; “To know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived-that is to have succeeded.”

Today in the News.... by Ruby Red (Pre-note by her Momma aka Cari)

Pre-note:

Tonight is the premiere of Dancing with the Stars and of course there has been a lot of hatred and prejudice directed towards Chaz Bono, especially by groups like One Million Moms. 

I try and use teachable moments with my children about acceptance, kindness and of course being an upstander vs. a bystander.   My oldest daughter under the pseudonym of Ruby Red has blogged for us before and she will be doing a series called a "Diary of a 4th Grader" starting shortly, but this morning while Good Morning America was on (but without sound as the kids got around for school) there were images of Chaz on the television screen.  I called my 4th grader over and asked her who the person on tv looked like.  She immediately said, "The guy from Jewel-Osco."  I was like oh, okay, so there's nothing that stands out?  Nothing different?  She said, "No." 

So, I could have left it at that, but I jump on these opportunities to talk to my children about acceptance of all differences, so I told her Chaz's story as I knew it.

I started by telling her about Sonny and Cher, and their song "I've got you babe" which is Mamaw and Papaw's favorite song to sing via karaoke.  I told her that Sonny and Cher had a daughter, Chastity but Chastity felt as if she was in the wrong body and had surgery to become a man.  I then told her that Chaz is now on Dancing with the Stars and that people are talking about boycotting the show because they feel this sends the wrong message to children. 

Ruby Red's response was a proud moment for me, when she just couldn't grasp Why someone would have a problem with Chaz dancing on Dancing with the Stars.  I asked her if she would write what she understands and how she feels about it and the following is her words.  She wrote them out and I'm typing them letter for letter, word for word.  In the past I've taken pictures of her words and included them here in the blog, but the pencil is pretty light on this paper and it won't show up. 

So here it is....

Chaz Bono

Chaz Bono is a person who was born a girl and wanted to be a boy so he got surgery to make him a boy.  I think it is great for him and people should let him dance on dancing with the stars.  

My mom told me some groups are trying to stop him from danceing but he should be danceing with the stars.  No one should tell him he can't.  I saw him on Ellen and his mom called in.  His mom is great for helping him and courage (meant to be encouraging) him.

by Ruby Red

Thank You.

I really could not decide what to blog about this week. What a week it's been! First and foremost, congratulations to every single American Troop, past or present, for your service to our country. This would of course include our Commander in Chief. The greatest part of America is that men and women volunteer to leave their friends and family to protect ours. It is the most beautiful of sacrifices. Thanking our troops is something I do on a regular basis. In fact it was less than a week ago I posted a yellow ribbon on my page "just because".

My family lost my cousin, Brian Matthew Kennedy, in Kuwait March 2003. On the very first day of the Iraq War he died in a helicopter crash. I will never forget how sad we were that day, or the day of his funeral, or still to this day. What I really never forget is his name, and the other Marines who died in the crash that day. Their names were on the news ticker. Not once or twice but for months and months. His picture was on the news; his name was on the lips of the newscasters. He was remembered.

I can't remember the last NAME of a fallen soldier I've seen lately. (Admittedly I avoid the local news due to its depressing nature and I can't say I care about the topics they cover.) My favorite "news" show is Sunday Morning on CBS. My point being we don't roll ticker tape of the names of the fallen anymore. Their pictures are not posted on the news, local or national. We don't say thank you by giving their face air time. We don't say thank you by putting their face on the front of our newspapers. We don't really say thank you at all.

Sunday night, while feeling VERY frustrated at some comments I was reading about the death of OBL and whether President Obama was deserving of any credit, it occurred to me. I am feeling SO irritated. I even dropped a few Facebook friends over it! I was really beside myself. I was going to write about how I justify being friends with people whose beliefs are completely opposite of mine. (I will still blog about this topic some day.) But I knew if I wrote about this topic, I knew if I went THERE, it would not end well. I did not want to offend anyone or lose anymore friends over it. But I couldn't just let it go...

After thinking about it all day today, it came to me, the clarity I had been looking for! It came to me through the divine wisdom of my 11 yr old Stepson (aka 11). I am a HUGE fan of saying (and hearing) thank you. We talk about it a lot at our house. So I was making Spaghetti and my man was filling cups with ice. 11 was sitting at the table talking to us. I asked my man a question which he didn't hear, but he muttered "what?". 11 quickly stated "I'll tell you when you're done" and turned to me and said "he won't hear me over the ice", to which I reply "thank you that is really sweet". After the ice noise had ceased, 11 said "Dad can you... such and such... thank you". My man then thanked one of us. (Clearly the moral of this story is WAY more available in my memory bank than the actual events.) 11 looked at me and said "we just had a thank you chain. You said thank you to me and I said thank you to Dad and he said thank you back."

How cool is that? A thank you chain! And presto! it was clear. A thank you blog it was!

So once again, thank you to our troops. Thank you to the families and friends of everyone serving. Thank you to 11 for saying "thank you" and being so endearing. And since "I'm sorry" is typically in short supply, I would also like to say I am sincerely sorry. I'm sorry to those I offended last night regarding OBL's demise. I believe I kept my comments pretty classy, but my intention was to prove I was right, and I am sure that seeped through. I expect more self control from myself and I am sorry I did not execute it last night. Tonight I will no longer look back. Tonight I thank you for reading my blog and would greatly appreciate it if you kept the thank you chain going ~ today and always.

With Love,

Aunt T-

"Ignorance is learned. Teach acceptance."