there is no easy walk to freedom anywhere

In 1985 I was a sophomore in high school. I had a new friend, a junior, who had recently moved to our small town from somewhere in South Africa. I thought this move was both exotic and odd. (Why leave a country with elephants and giraffes and lions for a small town with only acres of corn and a Target? (This was before the Target closed, you see.) It didn't make sense.) She had a cool accent, but only when she talked, not when she sang. She mentioned Apartheid, which I had HEARD of, and knew it was something like what happened in the South before the Civil Rights Movement. South Africans couldn't participate in the Olympics because of Apartheid, and some people were in jail because of it, which didn't seem fair, but that was about as far as my knowledge stretched.

In 1990 I was a sophomore in college. I was starting to pay a bit more attention to world events, but was still primarily hung up on my own hang ups. A group of people on campus had set up a tent city protesting the Persian Gulf War. I wasn't sure what I thought about this war or our involvement in it. I'd also heard that South Africa freed Nelson Mandela after 27 1/2 years in prison and began dissembling Apartheid. This seemed a good thing. South Africans could participate in the Olympics again, so that was nice.

In 1994 I was newly married, had just finished my Masters, and had my first real job. Just as I was meant to be starting a career in helping others, I was beginning to understand just how much I didn't understand about the world, about people. The OJ Simpson trial was all the news that year, but there were also reports from Africa. Devastation in Rwanda. Hope in South Africa, who had held its first interracial elections and elected a black president, Nelson Mandela. Who then proceeded to name the white former president, de Klerk, as deputy president. I wondered if this would ever happen in the United States, if we would ever elect a black president, if our government could ever work together across racial and party lines.

In 2010 we began talking about adopting a child from Lesotho, a landlocked country surrounded by South Africa. I read that the Basotho had escaped the horrors of Apartheid because of British rule until 1966, when they gained their independence. But I wondered about this because I also read that many Basotho migrated to South Africa for jobs and schooling, where they would have been subject to the same rules and restrictions. I read Nelson Mandela's Long Walk to Freedom and Mpho M'astepo Nthunya's Singing Away the Hunger. I thought about people who are willing to undergo imprisonment and brutality on the strengths of their convictions, and the devastatingly difficult lives of the people for whom they are convicted.

In 2012 we traveled to Lesotho to adopt our son and then to Johannesburg to process the US visa requirements. We had been warned about the crime in Johannesburg. We had been warned about the racism we might encounter traveling with a black son. We didn't experience any of that. We were greeted warmly everywhere we went, both by black and by white South Africans. (Except for one elderly woman who sniffed disapprovingly when we let Palamang choose where to sit. Old biddy.) Our black tour guide to the Lion Park easily accepted our six year old boy as a part of our family, talked about his own seven year old son, shared some of the difficulties South Africa faced but also the hope South Africa had for the future thanks to a man who brought the country together when our guide was just a boy - Nelson Rolihlahla Madiba Mandela. Tata! Father.

We weren't able to visit the Apartheid Museum or Soweto or any of the other places made famous by Mandela, but his influence, his legacy, was everywhere we went, everywhere we looked, in everyone we met.

Today reports are varied as to Mandela's health. He is in the hospital in Johannesburg, in critical condition, and thousands upon thousands rally and pray and remember this leader who not only brought freedom and forgiveness to his own country, but changed the face of the world. This may be Mandela's final battle, but one for which he has prepared his entire life. In his own words: "There is no easy walk to freedom anywhere, and many of us will have to pass through the valley of the shadow of death again and again before we reach the mountaintop of our desires."

Go in peace, Tata.

Vacationing (strikethrough) Traveling with Children

As it is the summer season here in the United States, many of you have already considered or are considering taking the ubiquitous family summer vacation. Having just returned from said vacation, I have a few tips for those of you vacationing with children:

1. Revamp your wording. You must first stop thinking of this as a vacation. According to Miriam-Webster.com, a vacation is 1) a respite or a time of respite from something. A vacation is intended as a time of relaxation. If you have young children, then what you are doing is not vacationing. What you are doing is traveling. Your children will continue to expect you to feed them, clean up after them and tolerate their many shades of whining. You will be doing essentially the same things you do for them at home, but in a different and more difficult environment. This subtle but very important word shift will go a long way toward defining your expectations.

* Note: If you are a parent with young children who do, in fact, allow you to relax while traveling to unfamiliar locations, then this blog is not for you. Because if you are a parent with young children who allow you to relax, then YOU DO NOT NEED A VACATION!

2. Be at your best. Vacationing traveling with young children requires you to be in tip-top shape. Start preparing well in advance. A twelve-week boot camp prior to your vacation travels is highly recommended. You will be chasing and swimming and biking nonstop. The child will NOT be tired (see tip #4) and you will be expected to keep up with him at all times. If your child struggles with new experiences, he may freak out  during the long car ride (see tip #3 and #6) and you may have to chase him a quarter mile up a mountain somewhere in Tennessee. Wrenching your back severely enough to require a trip to the hospital is not recommended (unless you are opting for tip #7), nor is getting a bad cold on day one of the trip.

3. Stay close to home. If you must vacation travel with young children, do so close to home. Within two hours is the maximum preferred driving distance. Anything longer than that requires supreme fortitude and planning (see tip #5). You may not live within two hours of a beach or mountains or anything at all, really, and you may THINK that a 10-hour car ride is manageable. You would be wrong. (See warning in tip #2).

4. Don't listen to people who try to tell you that taking your child on a 10-hour trip to the beach is a good idea because swimming at the beach will make him tired. This is misleading. You will hear, "Swimming at the beach will make him tired" and you will think, "Early bedtime - hooray!" This is NOT the kind of tired to which they are referring. Oh, no. Your child will NOT go to bed early because he is vacationing traveling and the bed/blanket/room/condo is new and different and weird. No, this tired is kind of tired that brings on grumpiness and tears at the most inopportune moments, such as family picture time when everyone is meant to be smiling and happy. And so you will get family pictures like this:

5. If you ignore tips #3 and #4 and decide to drive 10+ hours ANYWAY, then you must prepare accordingly. Bring approximately ten times more toys and activities for the car ride than you anticipate needing because you will need them. Each toy/coloring activity/video game/movie will hold his attention for approximately five seconds. You will then need to redirect his attention to the next new toy/coloring activity/video game/movie or face the ceaseless and volume-escalating questioning of "Are we there yet?" and "When will we be there?"

6. Pack lots of food. More than you think. (See tip #5). This will offer a brief respite of quiet while his mouth is full. But whatever you do, do NOT allow him to buy a suspicious-looking orange push-pop type thing in the gas station thinking, "Sure, go crazy, live a little, we're on vacation traveling." Because this suspicious-looking orange push-pop type thing contains red 40 and if you didn't believe red 40 incites craziness in certain individuals, you will quickly become a believer as you huff a quarter mile up a mountain somewhere in Tennessee.

7. Valium and other pain pills. I'm told that taking valium and laying in the backseat of the minivan because you have a hurt back makes the ten plus hour trip feel rather floaty and fun. I cannot speak to this PERSONALLY because I had to DRIVE.

8. Dramamine. This we discovered by accident. My daughter tends to get carsick. When she was young we tried wristbands and ginger and other all-natural stuff, to no avail. So we gave her dramamine, which cured the carsickness. We also discovered that dramamine has a most beneficial side effect - SLEEPINESS! Sleeping sleepiness, not just grumpy sleepiness. So can I help it if my kids get carsick?

9.  Exceed the recommended adult to child ratio. You may think two adults to one child is workable, but if you have not adequately prepared for this trip (see tip #2), the one child's energy will quickly exceed that of the two adults. Adding a responsible teenager to the mix may be beneficial, but only if you can threaten and/or bribe the teenager. (I.e. "This is NOT your vacation. This is your JOB. This is how you are working off the cost of that plane ticket to Europe.) Even better if you can invite Nana and Papa to join you for part of the week. This will NOT change your child's behavior, but it will give you a break. You may worry about Nana and Papa's sanity when they offer to take the children for the evening so you can go on a date, but this will be the BEST THING EVER. Papa may take your child to Chick Fil'a where he will play happily in the play place for two hours while you and your husband enjoy a romantic dinner watching the rain lash the Atlantic Ocean.

10. Sponge Bob will buy you thirty minutes of quiet. You may think this is the most asinine cartoon ever, but while on vacation at the beach it does have certain educational value. ("See, crabby patties! That's what Mama ordered at the restaurant.")

11. Forget your wallet. Your child will realize quite quickly that the little beach kiosks sell TOYS, and he will bug you relentlessly for those toys. If you leave your wallet at the condo, then you will not be lying when you say, "Oh, I would love to buy you a toy, but I don't have my money." (If you are staying in one of those posh hotels that will charge purchases to your room, then you're out of luck.) This will work approximately one time before your child sneaks your wallet into the beach bag. Then you must lie and tell your child that the beach takes a different kind of money. "We're in the South, you see." 

12. Enjoy the moments. When your child jumps his first waves and declares the Atlantic Ocean, "The best pool ever!" When he digs a hole deep enough to bury himself and your daughter crafts a mermaid body (complete with double D's) on top. When you bike with oohs and aahs under live oaks with "hair" and past ponds with alligators, turtles, herons, egrets. When you spot a black tipped shark and a pod of dolphins in the ocean, and he realizes these animals his classmates reported on at school are really real. When he samples a fried shrimp at the farmers market and does the happy food dance. When he and your daughter play happily with no fighting, picking or whining. When you explore a new place and he gets it - really gets it - that no one gets left behind. When you come home again and look at the pictures and everyone remembers the fun and asks, "When can we go to the beach again?"

Change of Plans

Three pm Friday. Car is packed. ENTIRELY packed. Including the items that Sam meant to pack but forgot. Grass is mowed. Vegetables watered. Kitchen cleaned. Bed made. (Why, I don't know.) Carpets vacuumed. Floors NOT mopped because I figure the dogs will just mess them while we're gone, anyway. Instructions left for pet-sitter. I'm feeling quite proud because the timetable is working. We told Paul we'd pick him up at Y-camp after swimming, swing by and get Sam at the art studio, then head south for our first family vacation with Paul.

Change unnerves Paul. Anything out of the ordinary makes him feel out of control. And summer is utterly out of the ordinary. Kindergarten graduation, while an exciting event, meant leaving the structure, classroom, friends and teacher he has grown to love. Promises to see them again "in August" were received suspiciously. His life history has too many disruptions for those promises to hold much comfort.

The first week out I still had a bit of work to do, so I signed him up for basketball/football camp at CAL. He had one tough moment at camp, which I only knew about because a teacher friend saw him crying in the hallway, so she called me, so I called Coach. (I love this about our school, the knowledge that other people are looking out for my kids and won't hesitate to call me if they have a concern.) Coach said Paul and another kid got into a pushing match, so he removed them from the drill, and Paul got mad and stomped off. "No big deal," Coach said. "One of my guys hung out with him until he calmed down, then they worked on tackling drills. He's fine now. Doing great, actually." (Really, does discipline get any better than this? Hang out beside a huge high school football player until you calm down, then knock stuff over.)

The next week was Y-camp, so I could attempt to get caught up with my editing job before our week away. Y-camp was Paul's first camp experience last August, and he also went over spring break, so it's not an unknown entity. Also, he has a neighborhood friend and a small group friend going. I didn't anticipate any difficulties, especially after the warm welcome he received walking in. Counselors from the spring remembered him and greeted him enthusiastically.

At two o'clock, I got a call. "Mrs. Thompson ma'am? He's having a hard day. Could you, um, come and get him?" That's never a fun phone call to get, ya'll. Sparing the details, Paul was mad and they were fresh out of huge high school football players. His MO, stomping off somewhere, made them nervous.

He stayed mad all night. Asking what was wrong got us glares and backtalk. Trying to empathize, "You seem really mad," got us glares and backtalk. So we kept him close and put him to bed early. Which got us glares and backtalk, too.

Trent left early, early Tuesday for a work meeting in Los Vegas. So I called an audible and skipped Y-camp. Paul would stay close to me all day. There is an attachment parenting theory, utilized by many by clarified by Dr. Brian Post, called the stress model. The theory postulates that children from hard places, due to early trauma, trigger easily and often into the lower, reptilian, flight-flight-freeze brain, resulting in the dysregulation that gets one sent home from Y-camp. The key to regulation, according to Post, is bringing the child in close to a calm and regulated adult. Something about mirror neurons and dopamine levels and the amygdala. For those of you who have never seen Dr. Post in action, let me describe - he is a huge black man with a beard, looks like a football player but with a warm, teddy bear persona. Calm, mellow, unflappable. And did I mention huge? No kid with an ounce of sense is going to take him on in a fight.

I used to watch the Dog Whisperer Cesar Milan, who also modeled calm, alpha dog behavior with freaked out canines. He could just walk into a room and the spazzed out dog that had been terrorizing its owner immediately submitted. I realized then that I am not naturally calm and soothing. I am genetically predisposed to be high strung and insecure (although I prefer the terms artistic and sensitive). This is something I've been working on. So on Tuesday I pulled Paul close and tried to infuse calm into our relationship.

Tuesday also happened to be the day that Sam had activities scheduled on opposite ends of town every couple of hours. So Paul and I drove a lot and ran a lot of errands and, in between, did a lot of chores. I tried to make this time positive - he was being disciplined, yes, but this wasn't meant to be punitive. I was aiming for calm, remember. We sang camp songs and counted the sleeps until Trent was home and talked about our upcoming trip. On the way to Sam's art studio, after a conversation about going to the beach, Paul asked, "Is the beach a long way? Long, long?" "Yes," we assured him, "it's a long way." He paused, then asked, "Will I get adopted again after the beach?"

Boom. There it is. The fear that had been triggering him into chaos. Previous trips and big changes in his life led to the loss of all he help most dear. And now we were proposing another trip and big change. The rest of the day we worked through this fear, showing him that he was ours now, forever, and any trips or big changes we undertook would be together.

On Wednesday I let him choose. Y-camp or hang with me. "You hafta do chores?" he asked. Um, yes. "You hafta drive Sam to art?" Yes. "I'll go to camp. OK?"

Perfect. And he had a great day. When I picked him up, his teacher said he was like a different kid. Fun and funny. Hmmm. Take away the fear, and the real child can peek out.

Back to the vacation plan - three pm Friday. Car packed. We are ready to head out the door to pick up Paul, then Sam, then drive south for five or so hours before stopping at a hotele with a pool. Trent bends over and completely wrenches his back - a recurring injury but never with this much pain; pain that requires a trip to the emergency room.

Change of plans.