Nikki’s Story/ the Journey to Being

This is Nikki’s story. I hope it will touch your heart and help you discover the beauty and fulfillment of your own journey or that of someone you love.

Hi mum,

I wrote this this afternoon. It just sort of came out and I’m not sure from where exactly. I think it helps make everything make sense.

Love your Nikki

 

Moments

 

Do you remember the moment that you became you? The you you are today – your optimism (or pessimism), ambition, sense of place and purpose in the world? I don’t know if I’m average or peculiar, but I remember the exact moment that I became me – the core of the person that I am today (and the person that I will be on my 30th birthday, my 50th birthday, my 75th birthday and on the day that I die).

I was twelve years old, in the seventh grade at St. Christopher Catholic Elementary School in St. Catharines, Ontario, Canada. I was a shy, completely insecure skater kid who despised the fact that I was ‘smart’ and did everything in my power to fly under the radar. I had a hard time feeling comfortable among the other kids but I still had a lot of mates (all boys – mostly fellow skateboarders). My teacher, Ms. Kras (one of two teachers to play an integral role in my story) told me about an opportunity to go to a leadership conference happening a couple of towns over in Fort Erie hosted by the regional Model United Nations organization. I didn’t much fancy the concept of going to smart kid training camp but two of my best mates, Victor and Jason, were also going and my mother saw that it as a rare opportunity thus causing me to become more excited about going.

On the first night of the conference, my compatriots decided to skip the final session of the evening to hang out in the arcade and though I was initially tempted to give in and hang out, I was so completely consumed by my Catholic guilt that I decided to go to one of the evening workshops. I think that was probably the first time that I had decided to pass on a bonding opportunity and strike out on my own, but it wasn’t the last. In hindsight, I think it was the best decision that I have ever made.

I walked by myself to the nearest identified conference room, having no idea of exactly what workshop I was wandering into. A few minutes late, I snuck into the back of the packed room. A younger man, probably in his early twenties, stood at the front of the room in a hoodie and jeans, bouncing slightly. He introduced himself (I wish I could remember who he was) and welcomed us to the “Music for Change” workshop.

I don’t remember much of what was said exactly. Over a decade later and it’s become a blur of civil rights, protest, Rage Against the Machine, listen to music with parental advisory labels, Bob Dylan, music is a weapon of change and (what would become most important) the Beastie Boys. Most importantly though I do remember the overall message of the workshop – that music can change people and that people can change the world for the better.

On the ride back to town (with Victor’s dad), the lads were talking about who set the high score, how fun the hockey game would be the next day and the awesomeness of two arenas in the same building (something we had never seen before). I couldn’t get my mind off the workshop though – he told us to listen to the music that our parents didn’t want us listening to, a request that subtly rebellious 12 year-old me was more than willing to oblige. I made a commitment to start looking into some of the artists mentioned as soon as I could. My spark had been planted and it was set to ignite.

When I got home, I did the same thing that I did most nights – sat in bed reading through old Transworld skateboarding magazines (the only thing other than the Screech Owls novels that I allowed myself to read). As I flipped through the well worn pages, I spotted something that either I had never seen before, or had chosen to ignore as uninteresting – an article about the Beastie Boys’ activism in Tibet. A simple title “Free Tibet” gave way to the most powerful first lines of text that I have ever read, even to this day. The whole article can be read here, but this is the opening paragraph:

“In 1949 The Chinese People’s Liberation Army invaded Tibet, a defenseless, nonviolent country. The invasion was approximately equivalent to a squad of Navy Seals raiding an elementary school. They killed Tibetans and swept the land like a swarm of coked-up locust, trying their best to devour Tibetan culture and erase it from the Earth. The problem persists today; the Chinese government seems to possess amazing concentration and endurance. For almost 50 years they’ve continued these atrocities nonstop. They’ve even added a few more for good measure: mass deforestation, strip mining, and the dumping of nuclear waste. Oh yeah, there’s also no freedom of religion, speech, or press.”

Fair and balanced journalism – definitely not – but it served its purpose. The fire was lit and there was no going back.

On one hand I had never felt more disgusted with humanity, horrified at what humans allow to happen to each other or just plain angry. On the other hand I had never felt more powerful. Everything fell into place. Bad things happen. Terrible things happen. But bad and terrible things don’t have to happen. The Beastie Boys were more like me than they were different – they were skaters at heart and they loved music. If they could use their words, music and actions to make things better for these Tibetans, than I could too.

In that thought, in that second, I became me. Everything since then, especially my current work with Matchless Minds Music, has been centered in that second, in those feelings of frustration, idealism and the need to make things not just different but better.

I started with researching everything I could about Tibet. I made a speech as part of a speaking competition in front of my whole school. Even though I lost the competition (to someone who spoke about a trip to the dentist), this was a huge deal. Normally shy, nervous, unconfident and reserved, my shell evaporated. I was passionate, incensed and articulate. Perhaps for all those years, it wasn’t that I couldn’t speak up – it was just that I never had anything to speak up about. I still had my friends, but I didn’t care as much about fitting in completely – I started to be ok with being a little different if that was the only way that I could achieve my goals.

I continued to speak about Tibet regularly and began to learn more about other issues – especially discrimination against persons with HIV. In high school I quickly joined the Model United Nations club, and for someone who two years earlier would have been hard pressed to say “present” during role call, I was a rather successful debater. I was a bundle of activist energy, flinging myself into petition after petition, speech after speech, but still without a structure or direction.

Then when I was 16 my dad saw this energy and it’s need for some harnessing and brought me to my first Amnesty International meeting. Originally he saw it as something we could do together, (he only ever made it to that first meeting) I on the other hand was hooked. I had found a whole group of people who felt the same way as I did about things and again my world had opened up.

Two years later, having been elected to the board of that local Amnesty International chapter, I was invited to go to the Human Rights College for Youth hosted by AI Canada and to the national Annual General Meeting. For the first time I met other people MY AGE who cared about the world as much as I did – they belonged to similar groups, they listened to the same music (Beastie Boys, Matt Good, Rage Against the Machine, Public Enemy) and had the same passions. Again my world broadened.

The following autumn I was off to New Brunswick and St. Thomas University where I enrolled in a first year program called Aquinas that focused on Social Justice and Human Rights. I could finally study what I loved in school. I was also able to share some of the little films that I had made with friends and classmates – rough animations and still images over haunting and poignant musical scores (often self-composed) or songs by some of the artists I admired. I finally found a way to express the things that I didn’t know how to say – and I was able to do that through creating stories around music. More importantly, I found that I was able to use these films to change the way people thought about the world in the same way that listening to the music mentioned in that workshop changed the way I thought about the world.

Then came the skateboard accident that put me out of commission and led to the loss of most function in my left leg (why I have the funny limp). While in the hospital I had a lot of time, probably too much time to think about who the new me would have to be. What I didn’t realize was that this new me, was really just the most important parts of the person I had been all along. The accident took away much of the person that I thought I was – the skateboarding, basketball, road hockey, cricket – but it left me with the person that I really am – the artist, the dreamer, the idealist. During that time, I was lucky to have a number of visitors – friends, professors, school administrators – I think my parents who had come from Ontario were surprised with how much of an impression I had made on people in the short time I was in Fredericton. However, one visit was the most important of all.

One night one of my professors from the Aquinas program, the late John McKendy (the other teacher to play a crucial role) came to visit, as he had done a few times before (and would do a few times later). My parents were out at dinner and I was by myself watching MTV (I was a little embarrassed when he walked in). We were talking and he asked me what I was thinking of doing now. I admitted that though I loved the Aquinas program, I hadn’t been enjoying St. Thomas as much as I thought I would. He asked me why this was the case and I explained that I had come to major in journalism but I hated the kind of person that my journalism classes wanted me to be. Then we started talking about the class, and he brought up the little films that I had shown, and just how much they moved him. He told me that he hadn’t noticed how powerful simple imagery could be when paired with the right music. He made a side comment about how I might enjoy film school (which was incredible given that I had been thinking the same thing but was unsure of whether I had the talent to do it.) His suggestion gave me the confidence to tell my parents that film school was what I wanted and that’s what I eventually did (for a while).

I spent the next 10 months recuperating at my parents’ and though I felt in some regards as though I were a catastrophic failure, I was getting more heavily involved in Amnesty International at the national level and in local Art for Peace initiatives. I still made little films and applied to a number of film programs, ultimately choosing Carleton University in Ottawa.

Once I moved to the capital, it wasn’t long before I fell into a giant swirling world of music, politics, film, activism (and a little bit of school). I had a job with the youth organization TakingITGlobal which allowed me to opportunity to organize a social justice focused youth film festival. I fell into the music industry after helping some friends as I played drums in a number of bands. I continued to volunteer with Amnesty International. Life was great and I felt like I was on the top of the world.

Over a short period I started to get disillusioned with things – my band broke up, the simplicity and idealism of my films made me an object of ridicule rather than admiration among my peers, my contract ended with TakingITGlobal, I pulled away from Amnesty after a number of directional changes that conflicted with my religious beliefs and the rigidness of the music industry that became grating. For about a year and a half, I lost myself, becoming rather cynical I jumped from major to major, never fully feeling satisfied and hating nearly every minute of school. I missed the practical idealism that I felt was being beaten out of me in every class and despised the irrational activism that these same classes were trying (unsuccessfully) to beat in. I was extremely close to dropping out but after some persuasion from friends, I decided to just rush through my degree and get it over with, opting to finish up my last two years in twelve months.

During my last year at schoool I started to get back on track. In a customized program of study, I was able to look specifically at an issue that I really cared about – the impact of film on youth perceptions of the legitimacy of political violence in Northern Ireland. In layman’s terms I looked at whether watching lots of films where people from your community blow up people from the other community will make you, as a young person, want to blow up the other community too. I started to enjoy school now that I was in the driver’s seat. I became an outspoken advocate for education equality and reform. I even started writing music again.

 

As the end of school came upon me, I contemplated a long-term career in the music industry that was the only paying gig this new graduate could find at the time. I discussed my frustrations with a friend who is a natural-born entrepreneur and leader. I told him that I actually really liked the work that I was doing – putting together shows, developing artists – but I hated the context I was doing it in, it didn’t feel real and it made me feel like a sell-out. He asked me whether I would like it if I was able to do it on my own terms, and I replied that I thought that I would. He then asked me what those terms would be and I started sharing with him the thoughts and ideas that would become the core philosophy behind what is now called Matchless Minds Music.

To be sustainable in the music industry, I knew I had to build something from the ground up – something that not only recognized, but celebrated the power of music to change people’s perceptions of the world, inspiring them to build a more peaceful and just society. I had to build something where artists weren’t treated like spoiled children, but responsible adults and where we would always do the right thing, even when it was the most expensive or the hardest thing to do. I had to build a corner of the music industry where artists were free to express themselves and their vision for the future. I drew on inspiration from Tony Wilson and Factory Records, where artists (and the label) have the freedom to f**k off. No ridiculous advances that could never be recouped, locking artists into uncomfortable situations and no albums kidnapped by a label afraid that the music wasn’t commercial enough. This would be a social enterprise record label – a label that could do good by doing well and where money is the means to an end but great music and stronger communities would be the end. I decided that the particular cause that would drive the label would be music education both in the countries we would operate in and in conflict zones around the world. All children should have the right to experience the healing power of music, regardless of the income level of their parents or the circumstances they find themselves in.

I drew out a plan and showed it to my friend Derrick Rand who even though being as fed-up with the music industry as I was, asked to be my initial partner, heading up the European operations for the company. We agreed that financially, it would be impossible to go for it immediately, but that we would revisit things in the fall. About a week after all of this, I went with my friend Vanessa to see her ex-boyfriend’s band’s show. I had never heard of them and with nursing a broken arm, wasn’t really up for a rowdy night out but chose to provide support. When the band, called Hearts&Mines, began to play, I knew that I had found exactly what I was looking for, especially when after the set, the lead singer, Matt Luloff, came over to say hello. We had taken a music class together the year before. I remembered him as the was the only other person in the class willing to say the things that needed to be said and who only said things that mattered. He didn’t care whether his opinion was popular, only that it was well thought out and expressed articulately and as such I had a lot of respect for him. His music wasn’t any different – unapologetically political and emotionally charged.

We didn’t talk for long, but I told him I’d come out to his next show, which I tried to (but it was full due to being booked on the same roster as the Ottawa Jersey-Shore-look-a-like convention’s favourite band). I was disappointed, but came out to the next show a month later. It was at this second Hearts&Mines show that I fell in love with music and its power all over again. It was clear that if I was to make Matchless Minds work, I would never find a more perfect band to build it upon. I had to help these guys get their music out as far and wide as possible – it was too important not to be heard. I also found a kindred spirit in Matt, someone who understood the need for the music industry, but who hated how shallow it had become (and who also disliked Nickelback and loved Matt Good as much as I did).

Today, I’ve been managing Hearts&Mines for the better part of a year – they’ve released a brilliant debut album and are changing lives one show, one song, one note at a time. Matchless Minds is up and running with a roster of truly wonderful musicians and people that I am happy and proud to invest in and it is now Matt Luloff who is my partner in this enterprise. I’m departing for Scotland in September to build Matchless Minds in the UK and Ireland and to do my Ph.D. in Terrorism at St. Andrews. I will be continuing to look at the role of film in constructing perceptions around political violence (and hopefully  expand my research to look at the role of music too).

My days I don’t think have ever been longer or busier and I’ve certainly never faced more rejection than I have since starting Matchless Minds late last year, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt more fulfilled. Matchless Minds – the social enterprise label with the tagline “Changing the world one note at a time” – is really the culmination and realization of a journey that I’ve been on for the better part of 12 years. It is exactly who I am – a believer in the power of music, a language more universal and stronger than any other, to create the sparks that change the world for the better.

I still have my skeptics, their voices keeping me awake at night. There are those who think I’m wasting my (supposed) intelligence (though I maintain that I’m not actually smart, I just work ridiculously hard on things that I love). There are those who think that this will never work – that I’m too young to run a successful company, that our financial model is too generous to our artists and not generous enough to us. There are even those who think I’m play acting, that I’m doing this because it looks cool or that I want to be interesting or some other equally ridiculous measure of societal acceptance. They don’t keep me awake at night thinking that they’re right but because they are dismissing the one thing I love more than any other thing in the world and allowing me to be the best version of myself that I have ever been. Such dismissal makes me angry but for those who truly know me can attest that anger is a good thing. It will keep me working harder to prove to myself that I am exactly where I belong. I know that Matchless Minds will be successful, even if I might be the only one who’s never questioned it. History is made, mostly, by the young and those who are not afraid to try things differently. No one has ever made history maintaining the status quo.

Matchless Minds isn’t about me wanting to rule over anything or anyone. It’s not about any desire for fame, fortune or status – I would really rather not have any of those things, I’d stay anonymous if I could. I’ve built Matchless Minds because it is the only logical thing for me to do – the only way that I can share the true breadth of my talents and my passion. I’m doing this not because I want to but because I have to – there is nothing else I have ever done (and I have tried a lot of different things) that has ever felt like a truer version of myself than this. There is nothing that has ever made me feel happier than I feel when I see a group of guys (or girls) that I care about changing people’s minds with their music and knowing that I was able to play even the smallest part in making this happen. It’s not that I can’t do anything else (I’m capable of performing a number of useful functions) it’s rather that I’m incapable of being this happy doing anything else. I can’t think of a more logical, or fulfilling way to spend the rest of my life.

A Moment of Parental Pride/A Love Letter to My Daughter

Yesterday I received some astounding news from my daughter Nikki. She has been awarded a PHD Studentship at the University of St. Andrews in Scotland.  She will be working with Professor Richard English at the Centre for the Study of Terrorism and Political Violence within the university’s School of International Relations.

Nikki has had an amazing journey. We live in a small neighbourhood (Merritton), in a relatively small city (St. Catharines). She started school at St. Christopher Catholic Elementary (one of the smallest schools in the Niagara Catholic Board), continued to Denis Morris Catholic High School and graduated from St. Francis Catholic Secondary in 2006. She worked hard and was rewarded with a full scholarship to St. Thomas University in Fredricton, New Brunswick. When an unfortunate accident abruptly ended her studies at St. Thomas, she persevered  and a pursued a new path at Carleton University in Ottawa. While holding down a full-time job, she managed to complete a four year BA (Honours) in Interdisciplinary Studies in three years, receiving a Carleton University Senate Medal upon graduation in 2010.

It comes as no surprise to those that know Nikki that she would succeed academically, she’s one heck of a smart cookie. What amazes us  and inspires us all is Nikki the person. Throughout it all Nikki has remained the same loving, loyal, giving person that she has was born to be. to be in her company is a pleasure. To be her friend is a privilege, and to be her mother is the most humbling. In her birth announcement twenty-three years ago, I referred to her a my “gift from God”. Those words are forever true.

Thanks Nikki for sharing your gifts with me, your Dad, your Sister, your Gramma, all your Aunts,  Uncles, cousins and all your special friends.

Thanks Nikki, for helping me understand that by letting you discover your place in the world, you have allowed me to discover mine. Thanks Nikki for proving that  by letting go of the apron- strings,  the heart-strings would grow stronger.

I love you big much.

Catholic Education Week in Niagara May 1 thru May 7

Today marks the beginning of Catholic Education Week in Niagara and across the province of Ontario. At all masses throughout Niagara District our Catholic school principals and teachers, parent members of Catholic School Councils and our priests read a short address from the director of Education for the Niagara Catholic District School Board, Mr. John Crocco. In my parish of St. Thomas Aquinas, it seemed to wrap up a beautiful day of celebration as we also had our Grade 2 students receiving their First Holy Communion as a class. The presence of these young children, their teachers and principal, brought home to us, the beauty and purpose of Christ’s teachings.

The occasion brought me back to about 10 years ago. Catholic Education Week was still a fairly new concept and at one of our Catholic School Council meetings the principal presented a list of activities that would be happening at the school to celebrate the occasion. I couldn’t help but notice that none of the activities mentioned would involve our parish church. Being a strong proponent of the triad of Home/School/Church, I felt it important to remind our parishioners of the value of Catholic education and their role in supporting and advocating on its behalf. (I must thank Syl Roach for igniting this flame in me) That CSC meeting inspired me to put together our first Catholic Education Day. After receiving the blessing of the principal and our parish priest, I was lucky enough to receive the support and assistance of our CSC parish rep and support staff rep and we put together a wonderful day for the students. Students greeted parishioners as they entered the church and also presented the gifts for the offertory which included symbols of education such as a book and a globe. Every grade created displays about their classroom activities and these were set up in the church hall for parishioners to view at the social after mass. As the CSC chairperson this was also the occasion of my first public address on Catholic Education from a parent’s perspective. It took weeks to write it and only minutes to read it but the passion and conviction of the words of that first address will live in my heart forever.

I remember speaking about the past, present and future of our Catholic education system. I applauded our Catholic teachers for their contributions as role models, our administration and trustees for providing support and direction and I thanked parents for choosing to share the gift of a Catholic education with their children. I asked for the prayers and support of my fellow parishioners. I asked everyone present, parents, grandparents, friends, neighbours to speak out for our Catholic system and our Catholic students. I spoke from my heart. I spoke as a Catholic parent to my Catholic community because it really does take a village.

I greatly respect and admire John Crocco for taking up the torch and ensuring that all parishes hear the message of the Good News that is the Gift of Catholic Education. He confirmed the words that have been in my heart all of these years and given them a louder voice by adding his own words and the conviction of his position as Director of Catholic Education. He reminded us that to ensure the future of Catholic education in Ontario we need to declare our support to our government officials by indicating Catholic Separate Supporter on our municipal tax forms/ election forms. I wholeheartedly agree that we need to “put our money where our mouth is” in supporting Catholic education but I believe even more importantly that we need to put our prayers and our hearts where our children are.

Parenting in a Digital World

On March 26, the Niagara Catholic Parent Involvement Committee (formerly Niagara Catholic Regional School Council) held its 13th Annual Catholic School Council Spring Convention. The keynote speaker was Teresa Tomeo, a veteran broadcast-journalist, author and syndicated Catholic talk show host. The focus of Teresa’s address was “Raising Children and Social Networking: Silencing the Distraction and Getting Closer to God and Faith.”

Teresa had much to say about the influence of the media in our digital age. With instant access to information, the media has a greater influence than ever before on what we see and hear and how we interpret that information. I listened to Teresa’s message with my parent ears and my parent heart because I want to help my family navigate through the mixed messages of a society that too often panders to the lowest common denominator rather than rising up to the highest levels of truth, honesty, integrity and compassion. Our children are bombarded every waking moment with images that make them question their own goodness. “Do unto others before they do unto you!”, “Get it all and get if fast!”. With the proliferation of YouTube, kids believe that their own 15 minutes of fame is only a click away. They believe that almost anything posted on FaceBook or Twitter must be true because “everybody” is talking about it.

Teresa very wisely reminded us that “Moms and Dads matter!” Parents make a difference in how their children absorb the world around them. She reminded us that the media is not all bad and new media is a powerful and positive tool. By bringing media (TV, movies, newspapers, internet) providers into our homes that promote truth and morality we can give our children balance and perspective. Teresa spoke of 3 questions that we as parents need to ask ourselves:
1. How do our media habits impact our relationship with God?
2. How do our media habits impact our relationships with family?
3. What can we do about media influence?

The gist of her response was this: “As parents, we are the primary educators of our children. Both church and school are there to offer support but when our children are seeking answers and looking for truth they will come to us first.” When God’s truth is our truth and when we speak that truth from a place of love, the answers are clearer.

In relating this message to my own parenting I think about how different my daughters are. They often seem to be polar opposites in their thinking, their perspective and their methodology, yet in they will both achieve their goals because of the path they take. They have been exposed to both the best and the worst that the media has to offer because I have not and I will not blindfold them from what is out there in the world. They know how to distinguish trash from truth and when they are unsure we talk about it. I am present in their lives. I am there for them. I listen to their questions. I count on God’s truth to clear the path for them. They will find their fame and fortune because they work hard with honesty, integrity and compassion. They take advantage of opportunities not people.

I just received an unexpected card from my daughter Nikki. It could not have come at a better time. Apparently this coming Sunday is Mothering Sunday in the UK and she wanted to share that with me. The front of the card reads “Wherever I go, whatever I do, knowing you’re there for me has always made the difference” Inside, among many loving words she wrote “… Thank you for listening…”

Thank you Teresa Tomeo for speaking out loud the truth that God speaks silently in my heart. Thank you for reassuring me that what I do as a parent matters in the lives of my children. Thank you Nikki and Sam for confirming that same truth through the way you have chosen to live in this digital world. Most especially thank you God for the strength to break through the noise so that I can listen and find your love in the silence.

Happy New Year!

I realize that it has been a long time since I’ve written. Christmas, health, family, work and laziness have all offered me the perfect distractions and excuses to explain away my loss of focus over the last few months. But it is time for a change both in attitude and perspective. It’s time for me to get back to feeling good about myself and my life. So I am wishing myself a belated Happy New Year and my new year’s resolution is to LIVE POSITIVE.

I want to “LIVE like there is no tomorrow.”
I want to “DANCE as if no one is watching.”
I want to “SING as if no one is listening.” and every other cliché about a life fulfilled.

I never have to think twice about expressing a positive, go-get-em attitude when encouraging my daughters to pursue their dreams and follow their hearts so I will adopt the same attitude toward myself. There is a song by the group Paramore called “The Only Exception” that speaks to the very heart of a positive life with its chorus: “…because you are the only exception …” I intend to remind those I love (including myself) of that fact of life every day. Other than The 10 Commandments, I can’t think of any other rules that are actually written in stone. I want to be the “exception” when the world is becoming over-populated by negative thinkers. I want to be the “exception” when following the crowd is easier than following my heart.

Happy New Year! I hope it will be a positive and exceptional one for all of us.

She is who she is and that’s just great!

Every afternoon at 3:00 my daughter gets home from school and we take a few minutes to put the rest of the world aside (as much as possible) and just talk. Some days, there isn’t much happening and our conversations are short and sweet, wrapped up quickly with a giggle, a smile and a hug. Other days the world has to wait a little longer for us to get back to it, especially when the day has been marked by the taunts, teasing and various other evils that are thrown her way by kids at school, often by kids that don’t even know her. In the safety of her home she can talk about how she’s feeling, how she’s coping and she can cry or rant and rave if she needs to. At home she can talk because she knows I will listen. At home she is safe to be herself, a beautiful and loving person that chooses to be nice not because it’s the easiest thing in the world to do but because it is  simply the right thing to do.

One day about a week ago she came home exhausted, not just physically but emotionally and spiritually spent. Once she settled into the security of home the tears began to silently flow as her face gradually took on a new look, a new attitude and a new resolve. She told me about how two girls sitting directly in front of her in class started talking to each other about how ugly and weird she was. She explained that despite her fear of further humiliation, she stood up to them and put them in their place. In summing up the event she said, “I am proud of myself for taking a stand and telling them that I wasn’t going to take their crap. But you know what Mom; I know that I can defend myself, I just don’t know why I have to.”   Neither do I.

At that moment I knew that I had to take a stand as well. The next morning I called the school and received a return call from the teacher later that afternoon. I didn’t call to rant or rave about the injustice done to my daughter or to accuse the teacher of negligence in the classroom but simply to let him know what had occurred. Teachers don’t have eyes in the back of their heads or bionic hearing. They can’t help if they don’t know what’s happening. The bully mentality that is so pervasive in schools and workplaces today has flourished because of our collective silence. Few are dumb enough to pick on someone in front of a teacher or a boss. Most look for those moments when the eye of authority is looking elsewhere. They count on their subjects to be too embarrassed or ashamed to report on them. It’s time for us all to take a stand and create a voice that is louder than theirs. JUST SAY NO! It really is that simple as long as it is repeated often and loudly. Our kids deserve nothing less than to feel as safe within the walls of their schools as they do within the walls of their homes.

Is my daughter perfect? Absolutely not and I am so glad of that. She’s a teenager. She is a work in progress.  She is who she is and that’s a great kid. That’s definitely good enough no matter where she is. No defense needed.

It’s Time to Take my Own Advice

Every Fall I find myself contemplating where I am in my life. Am I on the right path, heading in the right direction and making the right choices? Am I ready to make bold changes? Have I been listening to that voice inside my heart, following my moral compass? Have I taken the time to look at situations from different angles or plowed ahead with a single-minded determination?

The first question I need is this: What would I tell my child, my best friend (or even a stranger for that matter) if they sought my advice? The fact that others seek my opinion or advice is in itself very humbling. I know that I must do my best to be honest, be encouraging and supportive, to make sense and most of all to realize that in the end, regardless of my advice, they will make their own choices. That’s what I need to consider when giving myself advice as well. So here is what I would say:

1. Pray. Make your prayer a conversation with God and ask for direction rather than results.
2. What are you the most passionate about? What do you want or need to make you happy with yourself, for yourself, regardless of anyone else? If you think you can’t be that selfish, realize the consequences of your happiness is happiness for all those who love you most.
3. Take a risk. Take a chance. Colour outside the lines. Think outside the box.
4. Don’t be afraid to make a mistake. Don’t be afraid to fail. Don’t be afraid to lose. The effort alone makes you a success.
5. Trust that your family and friends will always have your back. Know that you are not alone.
6. Believe in yourself with all your heart because God believes in you with all your soul.
7. Understand that everyone else will have an opinion. Understand also that everyone else will have their own reasons for that opinion.
8. Trust the people you believe in and believe in the people you trust.
9. Realize the difference between going on and moving on.
10. Pray.

I really thinks it’s time to take my own advice.  I will listen to myself more often. I advise you to do the same.

Real Family

Being a member of a large family is often a challenge but a rewarding one that keeps my ego in check and my heart in the right place. There were times in my childhood when just the thought of being an only child was a cherished dream. I imagined having my own room, my own bed, my own toys and clothes that had never been worn before they found their way to me. In that dream I didn’t have to jockey for a place in line for the bathroom, scream to be heard or avoid the blackmail of a tattle-tale. But in real life we laughed more than we fought, we listened more than we screamed and we loved more than anything else.

Being a large family, we grew up in different generations simply by birth order. There is 13 years between the oldest and the youngest with an invisible dividing line between the “big kids” and the “little kids”, four and four, that’s just the way it was. (At the age of 54 I am still proud to be a “little kid” and I love my place in our world.) There were many things that kept that line in place over the years, the dad-in years and the dad-out years, shared childhoods and the natural progression of life experiences such as high school, boyfriends, girlfriends, marriages, jobs and the birth of our own children.

Many people assume that since we are such a big family our lives must be just like TV as in “Eight is Enough” or more recently “Brothers & Sisters” or “Parenthood”. But like most of real life, it’s just not like that.  Some of us live in the same town, some of us don’t. Some of us socialize, some of us don’t. Some of us talk to each other on a regular basis, some of us don’t. That’s the reality and while it may sound strange to those on the outside it is exactly the way it should be.

We have all grown up to be the individuals that our mom raised us to be. While we all  live our own lives, raise our own children, enjoy different careers and have our own circle of friends and acquaintances, we are very much a close family. We continue share all the love that we have always shared. In moments of great sorrow or great joy the SOS goes out and we are there for each other, immediately and fully, no man is left behind. Mom is our conduit to each other. Mom keeps us informed, shares whatever news needs to be shared and holds in her heart all that needs to be heard but not shared. We embrace our individualism. We admire and appreciate the individual accomplishments of each other. We can stand on our own two feet steady and sure because we share a respect and love for all the things that make us unique. We don’t need to live in each others pockets because we are always in each others hearts. We’re family and that’s real.

Why are Kids Killing Kids?

Our children are killing themselves and I can’t stop screaming and begging for something, someone, anyone and everyone to make it stop. Suicide as a desperate response to daily torment and torture is the extreme that too many kids are driven to by other kids . How did we ever get to this horrible place where children no longer feel loved enough to live? How long can society turn a blind eye to such carnage? How much longer are kids  supposed to suck it up and learn to take a joke?

Kids learn everything through observation and their favourite game is “Monkey See, Monkey Do”. Every time you watch a TV program or movie where the language, behaviour or images demean someone and think it’s okay, so do your kids. Every time you listen to a song on the radio or watch a video that sings the praises of bad behaviour and think it’s okay because the tune is catchy, so do your kids. Every time you laugh at an off-colour joke that ridicules someone’s race, culture, intelligence or hair-colour, so do your kids. Every time you make a snide comment about someone because of the way they dress, the way they look, their size or shape, so do your kids. Every time you think you have the right to criticize another human being in any way, for any reason, so do you kids.

The old saying “kids will be kids” is the scariest adage an adult can espouse. Too many kids are terrorizing, ridiculing and ostracizing each other because they feel entitled to do so. Where on earth did such entitlement come from? The answer to that one lies in the heart of each of us and in the message that we put out to the world. Are we entitled to say what we want, when we want, where we want, regardless of how it affects others, especially when its intent is to be hurtful? Can we only feel good by making others feel bad? Does misery really need company? The answer is simply “No”.

Let’s stop the glorification of all things “bully”. Let’s give childhood back to our kids by celebrating their natural gifts of innocence, acceptance, empathy, and love. There are so many amazing things being accomplished by amazing kids each and every day. Let’s make sure that our children see and hear about those accomplishments more often. Every child deserves to know that they are amazing. Every child deserves to know that  the very fact that they are different is what makes them amazing. Every child deserves to live, free from ridicule, free from torment, free from hatred. Every child simply deserves to live and every child deserves to be reminded of that every day by every one around them at every opportunity.

It Really Does Take a Village to Raise a Child

There has been a recent flurry of attention on the topic of education. With the release of the documentary “Waiting for Superman”, American talk shows have been responding fast and furious with opinions from all the leading experts about just how badly the school system is failing today’s children.

While here in Canada we are not faced with the same dire circumstances in education, this outcry should be a wakeup call for us as well. It should be a reminder that the education of our children must be treated as a priority by all levels of government and by all participants in the field. The one common thread in the dialogue that I have heard is the significant and vital role that parents have in ensuring that schools meet the needs of their students. Finally, parents are being recognized out-loud, in public, by all the leading experts as the essential key to revolutionary change. This idea is not new and much progress has been made over the last few years in the area of parent involvement and parent engagement. But for those leading the change it has at times felt like a quiet revolution. There is still a resistance to accept the parent voice. There are still too many teachers, principals and administrators that feel threatened by the very idea of parent involvement. There are still too many parents that are willing to abdicate their own responsibilities the minute the morning school bell rings.

I believe it was Hillary Clinton that famously said “It still takes a village to raise a child”. Such words could never be truer than they are today. Every adult needs to understand that they are the examples, good or bad, that every child will look to find themselves. No matter what your station in life, you will interact with a child somewhere, sometime. They will notice you whether you notice them or not. They will observe your example and file it away, pulling it out for future reference when the need arises.

So set the example that values education. Choose to support your children inside and outside of the classroom. Interact with teachers with the utmost respect for their position and expect and demand the same respect from them. Earn the respect of the children in your life, don’t expect it simply because you’re bigger or older or (think) you’re smarter than them.
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A reminder to teachers: You may teach hundreds of children over the course of your career and even if you don’t remember their names you can be sure that they will probably remember yours. Let them remember you as the one that made a difference in their life and let that difference be for the better.

A reminder to parents: Your children are a reflection of you. They will learn to make their own choices in life because of you or in spite of you. It’s the choices you make today that will have the greatest impact on them tomorrow. Choose wisely.

Show your children that everyone is on the same side, their side. Go to school! Find out what’s happening in the classroom and in the schoolyard. Ask questions of school staff in order to better understand their expectations. Provide them with the information they need to understand your child’s needs, abilities, talents and interests. Work together in the best interests of every child not just your own. Demand excellence in education from all levels of government. Encourage, support and demand excellence but do not confuse excellence with perfection. It is unrealistic to expect perfection from any person or institution but demand accountability. Help ensure that all children are given the opportunity to reach their fullest potential. Dream big so they can dream bigger.

* Dedicated to the memory of Mr. Barry Riordon, Homeroom and History Teacher, Grade 8, Christ the King Catholic Elementary School, St. Catharines, Ontario (1969/70)