Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast

Kwanzaa Day 7: Imani

...So, the question becomes: If Kwanzaa is supposed to be a celebration that does not replace Christmas or other religious observances, if it is supposed to be something other than a "holy-day," then when we speak of imani--faith, then faith in what or who?

As far as I am concerned, for my daughters (and this just for starters):

Faith in each other--as former "wombmates" and as sisters forever; Faith in the power of friendships, like going over to a friend's birthday party today on New Year's Day, and being so happy because you hadn't seen her in a couple months ever since she moved to California, but after an hour or so it was as if you had never parted; Faith in joy and in love and in curiosity; Faith in Mommy and Daddy, and in the simple pleasure of spending New Year's Eve watching movies together and toasting at 10pm with real champagne flutes filled with real grape juice... Just for starters.

To end, enjoy our

KWANZAA 2004 PHOTO ALBUM

And finally:

Bart Springs Eternal!

Kwanzaa Day 6: Kuumba

Kuumba is creativity--actually something we have been observing throughout Kwanzaa. Yesterday we completed our pouch project. This involved making homemade beads with oven bake clay, designing on paper some pouches, me cutting out and sewing felt in accordance with these (approximate) designs, and (again, me) sewing the beads to the pouches in the places chosen by my daughters.

We also spent a lot of time listening to music. I talked the girls into giving the Disney CDs a rest and instead we listened to selections that I think capture a certain sense of creativity without boundaries.

For example, I put on Regina Carter's "Paganini: After a Dream" and the daKAH Hip Hop Orchestra's live recording from San Francisco, Alice Coltrane's new "Translinear Light" and Queen Latifah's "Dana Owens Album." I streamed from my computer the fourth program of the "American Mavericks" series, "It Don't Mean a Thing If It Ain't Got That Swing," all about the flirtations between the worlds of classical and jazz music. (And extra nice since one of the folks interviewed is our own Twin Cities composer and scholar William Banfield from St. Thomas.)

As low key as I could I tried to relate what we were hearing to their own lives in ways my four year olds could understand: Did yo know Granny's Daddy used to play the violin like this lady playing now? Yes, her name is Queen Latifah--she named herself that because she feels powerful like a queen. That song there was written by a man named George--Yes, just like our president who's on our money named George--But did you know that your Granny plays this song on her piano? Yes, that instrument does sound a little like it's from the "Alladin" movie...

Anyway, that's what I wish for my daughters--To develop their creativities without regard to that creativity being "for girls" or "for boys," White or Black, traditional or avant-garde, "popular" or "scholarly."

(OK, maybe the last wish is more for me!)

Kwanzaa Day 5: Nia

Nia means purpose. I had a hard time at first explaining this one to my daughters. At first they were stuck on "purpose" as something negative, as in doing something unkind or hurtful on purpose. But that Kwanzaa craft book I spoke of earlier had a wonderful definition:

"To have a plan for the future and use our talents and abilities to achieve that purpose. When we can, we should also help others to develop their talents and achieve their goals."

So, using that definition we talked about their plans and hopes and dreams for the future. Some were more realistic than others. Some will likely change. But the idea is that they have an idea that there are certain things they can do now to "work on" these plans--and even if those plans change the preparation can be important and fun.

One of my daughters wants to be a conductor, so she talked about continuing to learn about music and instruments and maybe taking music lessons at school someday. The other daughter wants to be a princess and a veterinarian. So, she plans to learn more about princesses, and dress up like a princess, and learn about animals and maybe get a pet someday. Both daughters want to marry each other when they grow up. (This is a theme from several weeks ago that resurfaced during our nia conversation. A long story for another time.) I suggested that if they want to go to college together and live together someday, then in the meantime they should work on being kind to each other, cooperating, etc.

We also listened to their "That's So Raven" CD. Don't laugh. It's actually not bad: Not too adult and not too sugary sweet. Yeah Lindsay Lohan is on it, but also Chaka Khan and Cheryl Lynn. Anyway, one of the songs is Des'ree's "You Gotta Be." In a flash of inspiration, I decided that this was a perfect song to encompass our nia lesson for today. I wrote the first two verses and the chorus (with some modifications) on three pages of big printing chart paper my husband bought from a teachers' supply store. These lyrics are now posted in the girls' playroom. Nice inspirational words, whether you're four or forty.

Listen as your day unfolds
Challenge what the future holds
Try and keep your head up to the sky
People, they may cause you tears
Go ahead release your fears
Stand up and be counted
Don't be ashamed to cry

Herald what your mother said
Reading the books your father read
Try to solve the puzzles in your own sweet time
Some may have more cash than you
Others take a different view
Always try to make up your own mind...

(See this site for full original lyrics.)

Kwanzaa Day 4: Ujamaa

Well, better late than never...

The fourth day of Kwanzaa is dedicated to the practice of ujamaa, cooperative economics. A children's book of Kwanzaa crafts, "Kwanzaa Fun: Great Things to Make and Do," further defines ujamaa:

"...Using our money and talents wisely so that we all may prosper. We cooperate by sharing money, taking responsibility for our work, buying things together, and using our money to help others who are in need."

For my children, who are four, I decided we would start with just a simple lesson on what money is.

We brought down their piggy bank and emptied out some coins and dollar bills. (I decided not to tackle the two-dollar bills that the bank is stuffed with. I wonder if all parents of twins get these off-looking bills as gifts as we did.) Working with my stored knowledge from my early childhood ed teaching days, I first asked them to talk about what they already knew. Surprisingly, they knew quite a bit: several names of the coins (though not matched to their correct denominations), that the dollar bill was made out of a special paper, that you buy stuff with it, that their Daddy gets paid with it.

Good start.

I then talked about the names of the various coins and how many pennies, or cents, each was worth. The dollar equalling 100 cents got the hoped-for expression of awe...

Anyway, not to bore you with my wonderful teaching lesson: We did this for a while, talking, observing, noticing similarities and differences between the coins, me explaining what is pictured on the coins and bills. Then they drew pictures of money--Quite impressive in their level of detail, if I may so brag!

Then they each chose $2.00 worth of "their own money" and we went to Har Mar Mall.

I tried to vocalize how much things were as I was paying for things, taking time to let them see how much money I was taking out (and avoiding using the debit card) and naming the coins--much to the annoyance of the clerks we encountered. I paid for the "Sponge Bob Square Pants" movie tickets as well as the popcorn and drink. Then we walked down to Michael's craft store--On the way we encountered a gumball machine (actually a disturbing combined gumball, pinball, and plastic religious toy prize contraption)and they were able to use their own money to buy their own gumball. At first they wanted to buy more gum, but I suggested that they save the rest of their money until we got to the craft store.

Once at Michael's their lesson continued. We talked about the holiday things now being on sale (50 to 80 percent off!) and about some things costing more money than we had available. On their own they decided to each get two different sets of decorations-on-a-stick so that they could then share them and have four different things to play with instead of just two duplicate things. They bought these and a few other clearance items with their money, got their receipts and bags. I paid for the clay and other items for an upcoming Kwanzaa project. At the end of the day they even each had 5 cents left over to put back in their bank.

I thought this day was a pretty good start for both ujima and ujamaa in action. I also wanted to do something with them around charity and public service, but decided to wait and think more about how to do that in an effective and sensitive way.

So, a very nice day. And not a whiff of communism or socialism--In fact, a pretty capitalist outing.

What all the Chia-Barts are wearing this season

Yeah, there will be a Kwanzaa post for today.

But first, another Chia-Bart update.

The directions said to encase the Chia in a plastic bag to effect a kinda greenhouse effect. This Apple store bag works nicely: It has a cool drawstring to better enclose the planter. And it's attractive. (Unlike the disturbing, wet, growing, disease-looking thing underneath it...) And I like the playfulness of layering several cultural icons on top of each other like that.

Not, I realize, a worthy tribute to Susan Sontag. Not by any means. But you see how intellectual you are after a week and a half of winter break with two four year olds.

Kwanzaa Day 3: Ujima

As for our household observance of ujima (collective work and responsibility), we actually kinda combined these lessons with those for tomorrow (cooperative economics). I'll post a more personal entry tomorrow, then, covering both days.

Together, these two principles are interesting as they are the most frequent targets of accusations that Kwanzaa is (gasp!) a communist celebration. Another criticism (and one we should take more seriously, I think) is that it is just not that relevant to many (most) African Americans. Leave it to the quick wit of Aaron McGruder to take this issue head on. I'll let him speak/draw for himself on this by linking to the first two of what may be more "The Boondocks" comic strips this week on Kwanzaa. (I'm enough of a goody two-shoes to not lift the whole strip to post here, so just follow the link and check back over the next several days for more...) So, yesterday's strip and today's.

Meanwhile...

For a wonderful real-world lesson in many of the principles of Kwanzaa, you don't need to look any further than 89.9 on your FM dial (if you're in the Twin Cities, anyway): KMOJ (a near phonetic of "umoja"). See this City Pages article about the Minneapolis radio station.

Kwanzaa Day 2: Kujichagulia

...which is defined as self-determination: defining ourselves, believing in ourselves, naming ourselves, taking responsibility for ourselves.

But first, a Chia-Bart update!

The seeds were sufficiently soaked. The planter was sufficiently wet. The seeds went on the planter in approximately the planned locations. (A few stray seeds ended up on his bulbous eyes, "accidently.") No child ate any of the seeds, or at least not that I can tell. The whole project took less than 15 minutes, and of course now we must wait a few days to begin seeing any results. But the children are happy, and that's all that matters.

Now, back to self-determination. My daughters had no problem understanding my explanation of this principle. "It's like," said one, "when someone wants you to play princess but you don't feel like playing princess right now and they want you to but you say no and play something else."

Well done.

We read "Martin's Big Words," with me taking some editorial liberties. (Example: I left off the page that simply read "He died." Not sure why, but it may have something to do with my reaction to them bursting out into tears when they saw a Sportcenter story this morning about the death of Reggie White when their t-voed "Aritocrats" movie cut off and it switched to live TV while I was in the shower...)

After the book we talked about things that are fair and things that are not fair, and how it is important to stand up for yourself when you think that things around you are not fair--just like Martin did. They then provided many testimonials to this: the time a schoolmate was not given her two turns with a popular toy and one of my daughters let the teacher know; the time one daughter was talking and another child interrupted her; the time I said they could go outside and play in the snow, but then I changed my mind and said we wouldn't be hoing outside afterall...

This last one was interesting. I did not provide further explanation of or justification for my actions. I did not talk about sometimes moms and dads have to make decisions about what is best for kids, even if that means sometimes doing or saying something that seems unfair. I did not talk about sometimes moms and dads make a mistake, thinking because it's sunny that it must not be too cold outside but only finding out later that it is, in fact, negative 2 degrees...

But would that explanation have been enough? I know that adults being responsible parents and not letting their kids do just anything isn't oppression, but just good--necessary--parenting. But it is an interesting dialectic, isn't it? Where exactly is the line between being responsible for someone in a good way and infringing on their capacity for kujichagulia?

A story may illustrate this.

After my kids had been going to their new school for a few weeks, we were walking to the car at release time at the end of the day. They were proudly displaying to me their "old-handness" at this whole new school thing: That's the tree where we put our backpacks while waiting to go home. Over there is the place where the older kids go to get "special help" with their work. And so on. And then, pointing to the row of yellow school buses waiting at the curb, one of my daughters said, "And that's the bus for the Chinese people."

Well, this was my teachable moment. I explained that, no, the buses were for any children who needed a ride back to their homes. And besides, they had been learning about continents and knew how many countries there were in Asia. Then we went over all their friends and where they or their parents were from in Asia: one child from Japan, one from Malaysia, and yes one of their best buddies from their old school from China. And we talked about the recently passed Hmong New Year that they celebrated at their new school, and how many of their Asian friends were Hmong and not Chinese.

I felt very proud of myself. Until we walked alongside the bus and I noticed that yes, in fact, every child on that particular bus did appear to be Asian. My daughter's point was not so much about correct nomenclature as it was about segregation: Asian, Chinese, Hmong, whatever. On this bus, it was all them.

Well, this school is a magnet school, drawing kids from all over Saint Paul. And the administration does work at maintaining a "diverse ethnic balance." But my daughters had already noticed what no amount of intentional diversification could undo: Children in this school are clumped together along racial and ethnic lines, and nowhere is this clumping more noticible than at 3:30 when the buses come to take all this wonderful "diversity" back to its largely un-diverse neighborhoods.

I definitely exerted my parent-ly power that day. I definitely quashed a very astute and accurate observation in favor of a nice, but inaccurate fiction. I may have planted a seed of doubt in my daughters about trusting what they see and know to be true.

All I can hope for is that these two moments--the school bus observation with my discussion about buses being for all children and the reading of the MLK book with our discussion of buses and stores and neighborhoods and friendship being for all children--will hang together in my daughters' memories, so that at some future day when they are older they might think about the injustices that may bridge these two historical times, still existing despite what some people (even Mommy) may sometimes say.

Kwanzaa Day 1: Umoja

There are a number of web sites devoted to Kwanzaa; See, for example, "The Official Kwanzaa Website": http://www.officialkwanzaawebsite.org/, MelaNet's "Kwanzaa Information Center": http://www.melanet.com/kwanzaa/, Wikipedia's Kwanzaa entry: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kwanzaa. I will not go into detail here about the general observance. I do find the brief history of the celebration fascinating, as well as the controversies it has engendered. (Google "Kwanzaa" along with words like "fraud" and "non-Christian" to read some of these arguments.)

Instead, what I hope to do is reflect on the way I am observing Kwanzaa in my own family--specifically how I am introducing it to my children.

So, December 26 and the principle is Umoja, or unity. I struggled with how to explain "unity" to four year olds. Most of the definitions just keep repeating the word, unity, instead of attempting to define what it means. This is especially problematic for me in the children's books about Kwanzaa. Does "unity" mean that we all have to be one, think as one, feel as one, speak as one? Does unity preclude diversity, disagreement, dissension among us? And who is "we" and "us" anyway?

Sidebar: Years ago when we lived in Germany my husband and I (pre-munchkins) had a Kwanzaa celebration at our home in a cozy officer Army housing apartment. One of the four couples we invited was an African American former-active duty soldier and his White German wife. We all went around at the beginning of our celebration and said a little about our reactions to the principle for that day. Most people recalled something from their past and told stories of their kin long deceased. When it was the German wife's turn she merely said that she was there to be with all of us as we celebrated our ancestors... Was she not part of the "us"?

Today began with me mostly sidestepping these questions. The girls mostly loved to say the word "oooooMOEjaaaaa" over and over again. They are at that wonderful stage in development when all language is music and poetry, and as such they did not miss a beat or question whether or not umoja needed a philosophical foundation or a comprehensible definition.

We then read "The Peace Book" together. Not so sure that peace=unity, but the sentiments are certainly in keeping with the spirit of the principle as I feel it. Among other things, peace is (according to Todd Parr) "being free," "making new friends," and "everyone having a home." We also read Jada Pinkett Smith's "Girls Hold Up This World." (OK, I admit I am a sucker for celebrity children's books.) My girls absolutely love this book and its lovely photographs of girls and women of "every color, age, and size...united by beauty inside."

Pretty expansive: world unity and gender unity. All before nap.

Then after breakfast my daughters and I looked at the photographs in Chester Higgins' book "Echo of the Spirit: A Photographer's Journey." They were pretty silent as we went through the pages. So was I. It was a strange, almost reverent, approach very out of character for these two energetic kids. Every once in a while they would ask me a question: "Is she very old?" "Is he sad?"; Or they would provide a comment: "Oh, what beautiful birds!" "She's so cute" "Look, she's making a quilt, like in our other book!" "Look, it's Uncle Bebo--No wait, it's actually Dr. King!" At one point one of them asked me if I liked looking at these pictures. I said yes. My other daughter asked why I liked looking at these pictures. "Because," I said, "looking at them makes me remember people I know and used to know. People who are in my family who I love."

They both seemed satisfied with that answer.

I'm not sure how successful we've been so far in observing the value of umoja today. A project that we were supposed to work on together fell through due to lack of proper preparation. I am utterly embarrassed to say that that project was to be a Bart Simpson Ch-ch-ch-chia pet--But I failed to read the directions far enough to see that the seeds as well as the planter need to soak for a full 24 hours before starting. We do have a Kwanzaa craft book, and do plan to make some of the projects in it, but both girls have been excited about this dang "chia" thing ever since they first saw the television commercial for it two months ago.

Sometimes deep cultural values give way to blatant consumerism. Sometimes assembling a collage from family photos takes a backseat to green clovers sprouting from the head of a cartoon character.

Tonight we'll see where the continuation of our umoja observance leads.

**Note: Search for the book titles I've mentioned here through the African American Literature Book Club: http://www.aalbc.com/.