Three real-life sisters sharing their kids' antics, milestones and adventures through this crazy journey called motherhood. Find out more »
Tomorrow we'll gather friends from around the world to celebrate what means the very most--family, friendship and the kind of connection that makes love, joy and happiness possible. And to make sure our gratitude generates hope right beside our friends in Tanzania, we'll also have a computer set up so kids and grownups alike can "tweet" their thanks for this year's Tweetsgiving. You can do the same at your house and be part of one of the biggest celebrations of gratitude the world has ever seen.
TweetsGiving 2009 from LittlePurpleCow Productions on Vimeo.
What are YOU thankful for? Will you join me?
I found this old cartoon I drew on the sideboard at my neighbor Meryl's house last night when we were eating dinner. I had forgotten all about it, I told her. I can't seem to part with it, she replied.
Three years later, and I can tell you all my attempts at passing off propaganda as the best advice for children ever have a very short shelf life, but still. I can't help but love the non-violent nature of at least trying to teach kids how to self-evaluate where they are on the cooperation continuum.
What do you think? The power of positive thinking or skirting the issue--listen or else!
I recently found myself in a crisis in the back of a Land Rover in rural Tanzania. We were on a tour of the poorest of the poor--a gentle-hearted group of families suffering from malnutrition and abject poverty in a tiny drought-afflicted village. This was one of those heart-stopping moments that stays with you forever--and none of it was registering with my kids. One was reading a comic book and the other was two hundred pages into a vampire book. Neither looked up when we pulled up or left. They had something else to do. They were tired. They were bored.
I wasn't sure whether to pull the old mom card--you know, the hissing command issued in the ear that says get it together now--or else. I didn't know if i should just let them be because the situation was so intense (even for someone thirty years their senior) or launch into some self-righteous speech. In the end, I decided on something in between: a firm request to put the books down and pay attention--at least while we were on the tour.
In the end, I'm not sure if any of it made a difference.
I know it's probably naive to expect more from kids, but I was really affected by their apparent lack of interest. "I don't know what to say," one child explained later in the day without an ounce of guilt or concern. "I have my hands full with my own life. I don't have that much space to think about helping someone else."
I still haven't completely recovered from that statement. It leaves me without any words at all.
Reflecting on it now two weeks after the fact, I can see that my concern is centered around values--that set of guidelines or principles that we've chosen to give our lives direction and meaning. How is it that my kids in that instance so quickly passed over something that fully engaged my values? How is it that an experience that was rife with opportunity for a response and the most simple kind reaction seemed to strike them as no big deal? And maybe this is the most important question of all: how can we know if our children are internalizing at all our most essential values?
After this trip, I have no idea.
I want my kids to understand they have choices. And I want them to feel connected to a personal sense of power as well as the consequences their choices generate. But what happens when that understanding of power, choices and consequences leaves out caring? What happens when kids decide being compassionate is optional? Do you pass it off as just a phase? Or is it time to march everyone to Habitat for Humanity every weekend for the rest of their childhood lives?
I'm still asking myself these questions.
What matters to you when you think about who your children might become? What values do you hope they decide to carry with them into the future? What do you do when it looks like they're missing what you'd hope was an obvious invitation to what matters to you most?
photo taken after meeting with some of the poorest people in Tanzania; by Stephanie Roberts, Arusha Tanzania
Last week I watched as the good people from Epic Change installed a tech lab in an elementary school in Arusha, Tanzania. My kids, Madeleine (11) and Carter (8) got a first hand look at how social media can be more than a distraction for your homework or a way to kill time with your friends. These children discovered the pure power of the web: the ability to connect human beings all over the globe for the purpose of conversation, collaboration and yes, friendship--for the very first time. The simplicity of Twitter--something both my digital media savvy kids understand without explanation--was the tool of choice and within days kids who previously had no concept of the internet or email were tweeting with social entrepreneurs, moms, teachers and good-hearted souls from all over the world.
While it's not the easiest thing in the world to set up a tech lab halfway around the world (or take your kids to Africa, for that matter), I'm incredibly thankful for my children to get a new take on the web and social media. For all the worrying we do about our kids wasting away online, now I can offer them this constructive alternative--building old fashioned pen pal type relationships with their peers in the global south. And this is just the beginning. What happens when we decide as a global community that access and connectivity is a right and privilege worthy of all the children of the world?
Having this pipeline open changes things not just for kids but for the teachers and educators who guide them. "How can we get them interested in reading?" Mama Lucy, the founder of Shepherds Junior asked. There are a hundred answers, of course, but now she has one of the most powerful solutions at her fingertips. Light them on fire with the fluency that comes with chat. Show them how to explore the myriad of child-appropriate sites dedicated to learning how to build proficiency in language and literacy in a way that wasn't available to them before. Let them navigate a brand new world built on the craving for connection and power of the word.

Mama Lucy with good friend and founder of Epic Change, Stacey Monk
You (and your kids) can tweet with the children of Shepherd's Junior School by following along on Twitter. They're waiting for you.