Tag Archives: family

The Power of Half

Posted on September 7, 2010 by melindaklewis| Leave a comment

Note: If you like free stuff, you’ll want to make sure to read all the way to the bottom of this post! If, you know, you’re into that kind of thing.

Last Thursday, I attended the kick-off campaign event for the United Way of Wyandotte County (you can take the girl out of the ‘Dotte’, but, you know…). The keynote speaker was the author of The Power of Half.

It is really quite an inspiring book; the core message of the authors (Kevin, the father, who I heard speak last week, and his teenage daughter, who was really the impetus for the family’s decision to sell their extravagant house and give half the proceeds to fight poverty and hunger, which is obviously the theme of the book) is that we all can and should be doing more to create a just society for others, and I found quite a bit that relates to my own life.

There are two pieces I found lacking, and I’ll get to those at the end, but, first, what I really like:

  • Commitment to involve children as equal partners in these family decisions: I’m always looking for more ways to empower my kids to see themselves, even at such young ages, as people who have a great deal to offer the world, but also a tremendous responsibility to serve it, and these parents’ journey to include their children in such critical family choices is truly admirable.
  • Emphasis on not just treasure, but also time and talents: Sometimes writing a check is the easiest thing we can do, when it may be our skills, or just our presence, that can have a greater impact. This family wanted to really transform their lives, and that meant changing how they lived, not just how they spent.
  • Recognition that giving sacrifically comes with a social price: The family related the chasms that opened, even among extended family, when they announced their plans. This reiterates the pull of our consumer culture but also speaks to how people can feel threatened when confronted with another’s decisions to relate very differently to injustice experienced all around us.
  • Careful research and discernment in the giving process: The family didn’t just check Guidestar to see which organization spends the highest percentage on direct services (although this criterion did figure more prominently into their decision than I would have liked–it’s outcomes that really matter). They interviewed organizations and, most importantly, tapped into their own passions and anger in order to best focus their efforts.
  • Celebration of the joys of connecting to the world: The book chronicles the family’s “sacrifices” and relates with real authenticity their surprise at not feeling them as such. We all know that we could be happier with less, and they really seem to have lived this.
  • Focus on process: They journal extensively, celebrate each step of their progress, and relate honestly how they’ve changed as individuals and as a family as a result of these decisions. For someone who tends to rush to the conclusion, this was an important reminder that how we get there does matter.
  • Realization that our moral witness matters most: The family is somewhat shocked to find that, when they get to Africa, they’re mostly wanted as supports to the local work going on, and as testimony to the power of the model being applied. They had hoped to build schools or…something. But this is empowerment, and it’s another example of how we gain so much by giving in the right ways.

    So, really, there’s so much about which to rejoice here. But, of course, I have those two critiques:

  • First, I’m always disappointed to find that I’ve already “given up” most of what people consider to be the essentials that they’re sacrificing in order to give more. We already chose to have a smaller house, and we don’t have nice cars or even cable television. I know that we need to give more, but I’m a little lost about where to start, when accounts like these can’t totally be my guides.
  • And, finally, despite the experiences in Africa and the power of their accompaniment, despite writing about how local leaders are learning to insist that government be accountable for providing necessary services, there is no discussion about how the family could have used their considerable power within their own community to advocate for policy changes that could have had a much larger impact than even their substantial dollars. This is a missing piece, and part of what giving of our time and talents has to mean–using our relative positions of power in the world to advocate for changes in our government policy that will impact the problems that plague the globe.

    I want to know what you think, about your own efforts to do with less so that others can have more, about how families can be forces for social change, about the role that wealth accumulation plays in shaping how Americans see their place in the world…and I’m willing to give away something to make it happen, in the true Power of Half spirit.

    Here’s the deal: I got a free copy of the book for attending, but I already had it, so that I could read it in advance, which means that I now have a copy to give away.

    Leave a comment, either in response to this post, in response to my earlier post about The Life You Can Save, or about how you could change your life in order to create a more just society for others, and I’ll randomly choose someone to receive the book. I’ll even send it to you. How’s that for karma banking?

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    Posted in Inspiration and Examples

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    Teaching my kids to look

    Posted on August 24, 2010 by melindaklewis| 2 Comments

    The Omnivore’s Dilemma was one of those books that I really should have read so long ago. It was beginning to be embarrassing. I finally just had to clear some time on my calendar to read it.

    I feel so much better now, except, of course, for the resurgence of guilt and angst about what to feed my kids, and how, and the ways in which the choices that I make every single day contribute, or don’t, to the industrial food system that has serious ramifications for our planet, our health, and our future.

    Except this post isn’t about that.

    No, while the whole book was excellent, the two pages that I marked related to the author’s assertion that, key to making ethical choices about the food we eat, is the action of looking.

    He argues convincingly that it’s the ignorance, the blind eye turned so that we can try to forget the realities of how our food gets to us or what that means, that holds the greatest sin…that, if we really take a hard look, and can live with what we see, then we’re making a conscious choice that can be defended.

    And that’s what I’ve been thinking about most.

    About looking, and really seeing, and how very many things we pretend not to see, or even really can’t see anymore, because we have forgotten where to look, or never learned, or wouldn’t recognize if we saw. And it’s that not looking that really does lie at the root of so much of the injustice we perpetrate in our world…the cruelty, intentional and not, whose consequences we never have to see, the unfairness that doesn’t look so unfair when you’re only seeing from your own perspective, the ease with which we can deny another’s humanity when we refuse to look eye-to-eye.

    And, so, it’s that aim to which I dedicate myself, as a mom who cares very deeply not only about social justice writ large, but also about raising children who will contribute to that justice and who will find their own ways to stand on the right side of the critical questions of their day, whatever they may be, but who also believes fervently in teaching those same children to use their own hearts and minds to make decisions and to arrive at their own conclusions about the world as it should be.

    Because, after all, I can’t force my kids to share my passions, nor would I want to. The way, really, that Michael Pollan can’t force everyone to be vegetarians, nor, as he compellingly illustrates, would that solve all of our food-related problems.

    But I can teach them to look.

    I can make sure that their little worlds get bigger as they grow, that there is room for people who are vulnerable and marginalized and often overlooked. I can teach them that we talk about people as people, that we value the dignity and worth of every human being, and that our every action has consequences.

    I can make sure that I don’t close my eyes. To the child with autism at the park whose tired grandfather can’t stop from throwing sand on my daughter. To the man living homeless who stands in front of the bookstore where we go to play trains. To the people in faraway countries whose daily lives are so different from mine, but whose dreams should matter just as much.

    And as we look, together, I can hope that they will see. And I can hope that, as a result, what we’ll all see together will start to change.

    Starting, with a look.

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    Posted in Background Reading

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    My Dad, the social capitalist

    Posted on August 23, 2010 by melindaklewis| Leave a comment

    Barn Raising Party, photo credit, realbruts! via Flickr

    My first memory of the concept of social capital is from the book Bowling Alone, which I read for a wonderful Honors Sociology class my sophomore year of college. I still remember the paper I wrote about the difficulty of defining “we” in post-modern America…lucky for you, I can’t find the hard copy anymore!

    Social capital has a variety of connotations, and has been applied in contexts ranging from the job-searching networks of individuals in communities with high unemployment to gem trading within communities of Hassidic Jews to neighborhood watch initiatives in the suburbs.

    The essence of social capital is that relationships, and the networks that they form, have value, hence the “capital” part of the term. There’s always some push back from those who resist the quantifying of something as nebulous and mysterious and wonderful as the trust and reciprocity that develop in a well-functioning community, but understanding the role that social capital can play, not just in the health of an overall community but for individuals’ lives, is an important part of community building.

    The strengths perspective tells us that we must start with a recognition of the capacities and resources within even the most struggling community, and social capital can be a good lens for doing that. In even many communities under siege, there are webs of relationships that bind people almost invisibly, and these can sometimes be leveraged for real impact.

    And, after all, we know that community organizing has to start from an understanding of people’s “enlightened self-interest”, a sort of “what’s in it for me if I help make this community better” process that ensures that people will be dedicated to the community organizing effort and able to articulate to others the vision that animates the work.

    But this post isn’t as much about community organizing as much as it’s about the power of social capital at work, an illustration of how very real, tangible, and quantifiable those relationships, and the networks they weave, can be.

    This spring, my husband built a shed in our backyard. He could only take a few days off work, and he got my Dad to help him. My father is extraordinarily generous, and pretty much any house project that’s planned around here starts with a calculation of when he’s available.

    But here’s where the social capital piece comes in.

    My Dad didn’t just show up to help build the shed. He brought some community with him–a guy he met on a volunteer project who’s a retired contractor, someone he went to Greensburg, Kansas with to rebuild tornado-devastated buildings, a guy he knows from church who has a concrete saw-type-thing (that’s as much as I know about it!)…his “team”, so to speak.

    None of these guys are my Dad’s best friends. None are related to us. None even live very close to him.

    But they’re bound tightly enough to him to spend a day or two of their time helping his son-in-law build a shed in his backyard, because he has built up social capital with them through the course of their relationship.

    We started to talk about this over lunch one day, and I made the statement that, if my Dad needed help moving, he’d have 60 people showing up with pickup trucks. Everyone laughed, but it’s true.

    So how has he banked so much social capital? In some cases, he’s helped other people directly with their own needs, hence the whole reciprocity thing. In other cases, they’ve just observed him being generous and kind, which builds trust and mutual warmth. In other cases, they may be making a sort of ‘deposit’ of their own, counting on the fact that my Dad will be quick to support them when they need it.

    It was my friend and neighbor, Megan (we’ve got quite a bit of social capital here, too; my oldest son spent the day at the neighbor’s so we could paint the shed!) who called our week “a shed-raising”, which I thought was so appropriate.

    It’s social capital, after all, that raises barns in rural communities across the U.S. In today’s language, it’s social capital on which people rely to “network” for jobs or trust someone’s recommendations on Yelp.

    Where do you see social capital at work in your life? In your community?

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    Is a Feminist Uprising the Traditional Ninth Anniversary Gift, or the Modern?

    Posted on August 18, 2010 by melindaklewis| 8 Comments

    Today is my wedding anniversary.

    Which, in retrospect, is perhaps not the best time to finally get around to reading Susan Faludi’s Backlash: The Undeclared War Against American Women.

    Anyway, the combination of the anniversary and the book, and my continued thinking about motherhood and women’s struggles for equality and justice and health and peace…have me thinking about what a truly pro-women policy agenda would look like, and what such a movement would mean for families, the nation, and our social work profession.

    Women’s experiences in our society are distinct, and we need political power that recognizes that, demands policies that support us, and changes the expectations that we have internalized, which, after all, is what the backlash is really about: making women police ourselves, so that no one else even needs to consciously repress us.

    And I think that all of that is tremendously important, which I why I read blogs like MomsRising and Feministing, why I include content in my policy classes about “gendered budgets” and how social welfare policy has oppressed women, and why I think that we need policy reforms that give women real options and real equity and real authority. Absolutely.

    But, on this day, my thoughts are really more on my own journey as a woman, how the personal is always political and, for me, the political is personal now, too. I’m thinking about how I couldn’t see how sexism and proscribed gender roles impacted my life until I was a married woman, largely because I had bought into the conceit of exceptionalism. I’m thinking about how many people have nodded sympathetically (approvingly?) when I said that I quit my full-time job because I missed my kids too much when I was traveling, and how their reactions affirm the backlash at work: “see, another woman who tried to have it all and thought better of it.” I’m thinking about how my wonderful husband, who had to actually show me where we get things dry cleaned when I first went to part-time work (because I never, ever got off work in time to go to a dry cleaners before!) has only made dinner a few times in the past three years. I’m thinking about how nice it would be, at least sometimes, to be the one to rush off to work in the morning, and about how much I miss the recognition and respect that came with a more prominent job. I’m thinking about how many mothers at the park say “lucky” when I tell them that I work part-time, and how many of my full-time employed friends say the same. I’m thinking about how our own social service organizations fail in creating the kinds of jobs that work for working mothers, and about how many times I asked for more help so that I could cut my hours back, before I quit. I’m thinking about how glad I am that my son told me, “when I’m older, sometimes I’ll have to get off work early to pick up my kids because my wife will be at work,” and how to make sure that he sees all of me, not just the Mommy side. I’m thinking about how many people told me to “work less” when I couldn’t get pregnant, and how no one told my husband that. I’m thinking that many of the same groups that attack women’s right to an abortion attack the technologies that helped us build our family, too, and about how my grief cemented my commitment to women’s full spectrum of reproductive freedoms. I’m thinking about the kind of example that I may have inadvertently set for the young immigrant women with whom I organized when I stepped back from that work…and about how missing my kids can be construed as a statement about something entirely different.

    And, because I’m an organizer and a policy geek, I’m also thinking that I bet most of those moms at the park would agree that they do more than their fair share at home, want better options in the labor market, and reject being labeled as “just stay-at-home moms”, and I’m wondering how many would self-identify as feminists. I’m thinking about how to build a movement that can change the frames that constrain women’s lives, because “pro-family” shouldn’t mean “turn the clock back”, “gender-neutral” almost never is, and no one ever nods knowingly at working fathers who “try to have it all”. And I’m thinking personally, too, about how my wedding vows included the phrase “work with you for justice and peace in our home and in our world”, and about what building a truly equitable partnership looks like, every day. I’m thinking about that agenda: equal pay and equal education and some things that must be distinctly unequal–reproductive choice and affirmative action and economic support for single mothers. And I’m thinking about how to make sure that my kids, especially my daughter, grow up in a society that supports women in a multitude of roles, having broken through the backlash for good.

    And I’m thinking, too, happy anniversary, honey. I swear.

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    Posted in Analysis and Commentary

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    Move over, Eleanor? No, there’s plenty of room.

    Posted on August 5, 2010 by melindaklewis| 4 Comments

    Sarah and Angelina Grimké

    I named my daughter after Eleanor Roosevelt.

    She has a framed picture of the former First Lady, at work in the United Nations, in her room.

    So you can imagine my chagrin, when, after reading The Woman Behind the New Deal, about Frances Perkins and her role within the Roosevelt Administration and the architecture of the New Deal, I realized that (while I still think Eleanor is an amazing woman whose role in history is well-deserved) I’ve been a bit duped.

    Our history seems to only have enough room, often times, for one really monumental woman at a time. And, with Eleanor’s proximity to the President, she’s often been the one given that historical spotlight.

    So, while it was Frances Perkins whose ideas became much of the social legislation of the New Deal, and whose ability to see “the elements of disintegration in the social fabric” (p. 294) foretold the fall of France to the Nazis, and whose commitment to preventing injustice saved more refugees during World War II than any other individual in the U.S. government, and whose vision secured the role of the International Labor Organization as a voice for workers worldwide, and whose government service created much of the infrastructure that opened careers for generations of social workers, and whose belief that statistics tell human stories brought to the White House a dedication to alleviating suffering during our nation’s greatest economic tragedy…there hasn’t been much room for her in our understanding of the forces shaping the modern welfare state, or even in our social work education.

    My first instinct was to feel chagrined–I’ve been guilty of overlooking one woman’s accomplishments because of too much focus on another’s. And then I got angry–where did this instinct come from, to jump from one heroine to the next, instead of arming myself with a whole phalanx of awesome women to serve as role models for my life (and that of my daughter)?

    This isn’t just about what I name my daughter (although Frances is looking kind of appealing). In an age where textbooks are being rewritten to exclude even more of the stories of courageous campaigners for social justice, and even more of the voices of marginalized populations, what we understand about the past is increasingly important as statements about who we are, and who we want to become.

    So here’s to not just Eleanor, and Frances, but Grace Abbott and Jane Addams and Florence Kelley and Caroline Love O’Day and Mary Dreier and Bertha Reynolds and Lugenia Burns Hope and Lucretia Mott and Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Sarah and Angelina Grimké and the countless others I can’t wait to learn about.

    I’m not going to have enough daughters to honor them all, but my young woman still has a lot of room on her wall.

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    Posted in Background Reading, Inspiration and Examples

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    They’re not coming for the cookies–it REALLY is all about relationships

    Posted on July 27, 2010 by melindaklewis| Leave a comment

    photo credit, scubadive67, via Flickr

    If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard someone say, “if we have food, they’ll come,” I could, well, hire an organizer to help them understand what really motivates turnout.

    Because the reality is, as I’ve reflected on here before, it’s really our relationship with people that move us to do the vast majority of things for which we’re not being paid (and even some of those for which we are). We know this is true for our own lives–what’s more likely to get us to attend a meeting, for example–the knowledge that there will be some snacks there, or the fact that a friend is waiting for us, expecting us to arrive? And, of course, our clients and advocates are no different, in terms of what motivates them.

    This essential truth about organizing and, really, about human nature, was driven home for me at 4:30AM the other morning (as are so many essential truths). My oldest son woke up crying and I ran upstairs to see what was the matter. He was sitting up in his bed and said, “Mommy, I really want a cupcake.” I told him of course that he couldn’t have a cupcake then, but that we could probably have one the next day. We had a brief discussion about why we don’t have dessert with breakfast, and then he went back to sleep.

    I laughed to myself on the way back downstairs. Because, I mean, can you imagine if a representative of some organization woke me up at 4:30 in the morning about anything, let alone an unreasonable demand for a cupcake? Or even a good friend of mine? But when it’s someone I love so much, even ridiculous requests serve to strengthen our bond, as reminders of how linked we are.

    I’m certainly not recommending that you test the depth of your connection to your constituents with 4:30AM calls about cupcakes, nor am I suggesting that your relationships with them will mirror mine with my kids.

    But I think that the reflection on the nature of relationship to change EVERYTHING is still a vital one. A “wake up call”, so to speak, that the people we’re trying to engage in our movements aren’t (we sincerely hope) so desperate for some Costco cream puffs that they’ll let the promise of them drive their decisions about how they use their time, and also that, with investment in the ties that hold us together, we can achieve the kind of connection that has the power to move people in surprising, joy-filled, even amazing, ways.

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    In search of a one-stop shop

    Posted on June 2, 2010 by melindaklewis| Leave a comment

    This post on Begging for Change is more of a request for help than anything profound to say. Egger makes a compelling case in several points throughout the book that, rather than just bringing people into the nonprofit sector (as employees) we need to ensure that we’re producing leaders in every part of our society who are committed to the values of social justice and progressive social change, and who live those values wherever they are and whatever they do for a living. Likewise, he cites evidence and anecdotes of how people who make their service fit into their lives, rather than expecting that it will stand alone, are better servants of the common good and more joyful in their service.

    And I believe both of those things, not just as a social worker and volunteer and activist, but as a mom. I don’t care if my kids grow up to be social workers or not. But it matters very, very much to me that they grow up with a keen understanding of social justice, a passion for creating a better world, and a plan for how to live that commitment every day. And, in my own life today, while I find time to serve the causes most important to me, I’m limited in my off-duty time as a mommy.

    That’s why I’m always looking for volunteer opportunities I can do with my kids (okay, just my almost four-year-old; the twins are still too young to be helpful; as their brother says, “they still don’t understand”). Now, I know that a preschooler is no organization’s ideal volunteer. I get that. But, come on, I’m trying to both build on his innate sense of fairness and compassion AND carve out more time that I can spend serving your organization; can anyone help me out?

    He’s already collecting money to put water filtration systems in villages in Chiapas, Mexico (he takes that job very seriously, so be ready to part with your coins if you come within shouting distance!). And he ‘volunteers’ to help our elderly neighbors (with Daddy) and to visit some people from our church.

    But I’m looking for an organization where we can volunteer together, ideally with some actual contact with the people the organization serves. I want to make this connection, and help him through his questions about the process of helping. I’m trying to plant seeds, here, people, and my sector isn’t helping me out too much.

    Please leave comments with suggestions, especially those of you in the Kansas City metropolitan area (but even beyond; I want ideas so that I can advocate with organizations locally to build some opportunities!).

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    Policy Reform to Make Every Day a Happy Mothers’ Day

    Posted on May 10, 2010 by melindaklewis| Leave a comment


    Who makes me a mom–my big kid at age 3 and the twins at 3 months

    Yesterday was Mothers’** Day (okay, so I’m really writing this the week before, since I usually spend Mothers’ Day sleeping late and then just playing with my kids, but give me a break–it’s Mothers’ Day!).

    This post isn’t about any inspirational lessons my kids have taught me, though, or the history of the holiday, or anything heartwarming like those email forwards about sick kids that people always send around this time of year (that I curse under my breath but still cry at?).

    It’s about public policy reforms that would make every mother’s life better, and make our country a better place in the process, and about building the kind of political movement that would make that happen.

    It’s about really believing that it could, that it can, that it will, because moms manage to make some pretty amazing things happen every day, there are a lot of us, and, well, even the most jaded politicians are afraid to be “anti-Mom”.

    This spring, I read The Motherhood Manifesto. It’s terrific–stories about ordinary moms and how public policy changes would make a difference in their lives, and in ours. For several months, I’ve been an active member of MomsRising, a truly fantastic blog/advocacy group/support for progressive parents that takes on the policy priorities (maternity leave, open/flexible work, after-school programs, health care for all, excellent childcare, realistic & fair wages, and paid sick days) that stem from The Motherhood Manifesto, but, in today’s digital age, it’s a site that uses video and social networking and the highlighted voices of real parents to inspire action. If you are a mom, or you want to honor one, check it out.

    Reading the book and communicating with other moms on the site, I think that there’s a real missed opportunity not to just press for these policy priorities, but also to activate families more and include a ‘motherhood (and apple pie is always good)’ appeal in other policy advocacy, too. For example, there’s a real claim to make that providing greater access to health care outside of the employer-employee relationship would open up job options for mothers and fathers who want flexibility but often sacrifice it for full-time positions that come with benefits (which can mean, then, that one parent settles for less employment than he/she (usually she) would like, because the other is in an overwhelming job that comes with health insurance). I don’t hear the pro-mother, pro-family, pro-labor market flexibility argument much in the health care debate these days, and it seems to be a missing element.

    Similarly, the discussion around universal preschool and greater supports for early childhood education highlights the high cost, scarce availability, and spotty quality of childcare options, but gives short shrift to the struggles of childcare providers, many of whom are themselves mothers, who, despite the unaffordability of childcare for many parents, often earn poverty wages for their families. Uniting mothers who are childcare providers and those who are childcare consumers seems key to building a coalition that will shift the public understanding of childcare to something that more parallels higher education, where considerable public subsidy is considered an essential component of a thriving economy and society.

    I am very, very aware of the many privileges that make motherhood a (usually) pleasant journey for me: a partner who shares a lot of the family work load; life insurance that would keep our family from being devastated if something happened to either one of us; a part-time job that allows me a lot of flexibility; a higher education that makes that job a possibility; extended family nearby; a safe neighborhood full of people who view our children as partly their responsibility; access to health care for my kids…I can’t imagine being a mom without these supports, and yet the reality is that most mothers are denied many of them.

    Still, my reality is that I won’t make what I did once I go back to work full-time (the motherhood wage hit is about 30%, and it lasts for years, ON TOP OF the $700,000 lifetime hit women take in earnings due to the wage gap); I’m not saving anything for my retirement; I do more than half of the housework and the vast majority of the hands-on childcare; I panic whenever our childcare falls through; I work and parent even when I’m sick; including caring for my kids, I ‘work’ about 80 hours/week, but I’ll only get Social Security credits for a fraction of that. I see around me mothers who wish they were working but couldn’t make enough to pay for childcare, mothers who wish they could see their kids more but don’t want to sacrifice their careers, mothers who only have 2-3 weeks at home after having a baby, mothers who rationalize sending their kids to poor-quality childcare because they can’t afford anything else, mothers who themselves aren’t earning what they’re really worth.

    It’s wrong, our nation can’t afford it, and our families deserve better. Nearly every other developed nation does a better job of surrounding mothers with investments for success than ours–we know what would help, and we know that the we will reap the rewards for decades to come. Please, go make it a Happy Mothers’ Day, today and tomorrow and the next day…

    **I’m intentional about the placement of the possessive here; “mother’s day” would be about honoring one’s own mother, which, you know, is fine, but certainly not revolutionary. I consider it “mothers’ day”, which, if we took it seriously enough, could change our world.

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    How organizing made me a better parent

    Posted on March 22, 2010 by melindaklewis| Leave a comment

    So I’ve thought a lot about how becoming a parent has influenced me as an advocate for social justice. The other day, though, I started thinking about the reverse: how who I was ‘before’ has shaped how I parent. I think it’s obvious that we are influenced in many, often nearly undetectable ways, by the sum of our life’s experiences. For me, because I spend so much time with my students and in this blog and in my work with nonprofit organizations thinking about my advocacy and organizing work and that part of myself, these linkages are maybe a little more apparent.

    I’d love to hear from others about how your advocacy and organizing work, or your social work education/training in general, have shaped your personal interactions with others in your lives. Knowing that we can’t very well ‘turn the social worker’ off, as much as our partners, parents, kids might want us to, how are you cognizant of this professional influence in your personal life? How do you moderate it, if you attempt this?

  • I am not defined at all by what my kids say or do. You know those parents who get so embarrassed if their kids don’t do the right thing or act the right way in public? I’m not saying I get a kick out of it when my toddler throws a fit at the library, but when you have thousands of people marching under your organization’s banner and saying whatever they will, you learn early that you cannot control other people’s behavior, and this goes for your kids too. So you set the parameters and establish consequences and recognize the limits of your influence over other human beings!
  • I am very comfortable with chaos. Not only am I used to doing dozens of things at once, but I’m very, very, very familiar with being yelled at. This gives me a pretty high tolerance for havoc. People have asked me often, ‘isn’t it crazy having 3 kids under 3 in your house?’ (they’re 3 and under now, thank you very much!) The answer is, of course, yes, but not as crazy as being in the middle of a raging debate about the kind of America we want to build, and who should get to be a part of it (although there is a bit more food throwing, but only a bit).
  • I get the difference between strategy and tactics/long-term goals vs. short-term objectives. I’m not going to stress about a lot of the inputs that many middle-class parents find critically important (preschool location, music classes, etc…) because I see that those are just various tactics that parents can pursue to get the desired end result: good/bright/healthy kids. And there are lots of other tactics that are just as good, or better, and a whole lot simpler (there’s that equifinality, again!).
  • I try to never do anything for my kids that they can do for themselves. Yes, this means that it takes longer to get out of the house, and they spill, and they even sometimes get a little hurt, but they’re also confident and resilient and pretty happy. Every time my son goes out with his shorts on backwards, I think of how I refused to speak for people who could make themselves heard as long as they had an interpreter, and how that made so much more impact, coming from them.
  • I’m willing to fight alongside my kids. No, not over who gets the Duplo fire truck, but when they are being treated unfairly, or when they have a need, I know how to navigate resources and make myself a nuisance until they receive the respect and assistance they deserve. I don’t worry that it will make me look pushy (I am!); I want my kids to see that injustice anywhere is an affront to justice anywhere, and to know that Mommy will fight for them, and will also call them out when they’re perpetrating the injustice. I want them to know that that’s what mommies do.

    I’d never say that I’m a perfect mom. In fact, some of what makes me a good advocate gives me problems as a Mommy: I’m notoriously impatient and very opinionated and somewhat maniacally passionate. But I know that I’m a better mom for who I have been and who I’ve known and what I’ve learned. And my three kids give me three more reasons to be grateful to the leaders and community folk who labored beside me as I grew up and learned, in the process, how to be the best parent I can.

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    Giving thanks

    Posted on November 24, 2009 by melindaklewis| 4 Comments

    I’m always in an extra-reflective mood at this time of year, so today’s post is a collection of gratitude for some of those who have had a particular impact on my life and, more importantly here, my social work practice. It is surely an incomplete list, but hopefully it sparks others’ thoughts about the professional influences that have shaped them as advocates, social workers, truth-seekers and sayers.

  • My three awesome kids. Not just in the ‘awww…3 cute kids’ way, but in the ‘pushed me to step back and rethink my life and how I want to leave a mark on the world’ kind of way. Plus, they’re super fun.
  • Rolling Stone. I cannot imagine having survived 11 months of nursing twins, often in the middle of the night, without Matt Talibbi. Seriously.
  • My students. Truly, it would be hard to motivate myself, some days, to do anything other than just eat lunch and read restaurant reviews during the kids’ naptimes, without the knowledge that there are 30 some sets of eyes expecting me to have something relevant, maybe even profound, to say in class in a few days. I’m so thankful for the energy and irreverence and curiosity they bring to our profession, and to my life.
  • Good authors. I’ve done some really excellent reading this year, and I’m continually grateful for those who labor to put out great written content to spark my thinking.
  • QuikTrip. Seriously–where would I be without the fountain sodas and friendly service? A young mom’s best friend.
  • The University of Kansas. While I’m sure at times they are really tired of my constant pushing the envelope of what I can do (enroll non-degree-seeking students? let students audit my classes?), I’m really proud to be part of an institution that gives me a chance to share some of what I know, and what I wonder, with our profession’s future. And I still get to take my kids to the park.
  • The Internet, especially my RSS feed. Seriously, what would I do without blogs, online newspapers, my social networks? I love being able to share the interesting (to me, at least) content that I find with others and at least pretending that others are as interested! And all that information….
  • The immigrants alongside whom I had the pleasure to work for many years–I can’t imagine my life without those journeys, and I can’t imagine that I’d have much noteworthy to say about anything if it wasn’t for all we learned together.
  • Courageous, wise elected officials–YES, they really exist.
  • My iPod. Because, sometimes, I really need to listen to Political Gabfest instead of talking (again) about the truck that just drove by.
  • President Obama. No, I’m absolutely not smitten with everything he has done, and I’m certainly impatient about much that he hasn’t. But I’m still really glad that he’s president, and I still have quite a bit of hope. That doesn’t mean that I don’t sign a lot of petitions…
  • Speaking of which, activists everywhere. Thank you campaigners for cleaner air, fairer prisons, better schools, living wages, safer workplaces, gender equality, just immigration laws, affordable health care. Thank you wildlife watchers and free speechers and good government czars. Thank you for caring what kind of world my kids grow up in, and for being loud enough and smart enough and passionate enough to make me, and others, care too.
  • This blog, and my readers. You can’t even imagine how fun it is for me to have someplace to put all of these thoughts that swirl in my head, and to then see the statistics that people ARE ACTUALLY READING THEM. It’s amazing, and you’re amazing.

    Happy thanking.

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