I keep seeing these really stupid Facebook groups in my friends’ feeds these days. Some make me smile, some make me want to vomit, and some are just plain monstrous. One of the ones I’ve been seeing fairly regularly is “When I was your age, parents spanked their kids and not gave them time-outs.” Not only did this spanking apparently affect your ability to use proper grammar, people who join this group—it also mutilated your view on how to discipline children.

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This week is National Be Kind to Animals Week. Ideally, we would be kind to animals each and every day. Remember what Gandhi said about the greatness of a nation being determined by how well it treats its animals? How about all of those Law & Order episodes where they talk about serial killers being animal abusers when they were young? Both of these concepts have merit, though hopefully people would like to be kind to animals out of love and respect for fellow sentient creatures rather than out of guilt or paranoia.

To celebrate National Be Kind to Animals Week and to implement a little animal love and care into your life and that of your family, here are some ideas to put to use. Feel free to use these or to add your own.

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Recently I’ve been perusing books specifically about peace, tolerance, the environment, and values I’d like to teach my daughter about at the library. It’s not that generic kids’ books aren’t “good” enough—we still check those, out, too; in fact, right now she will check out anything about dragons or chickens—it’s that I’m really interested in making these concepts a part of our lives early on. What better way to do it than though the books we love to read so much?

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“Only when the last tree has died and the last river has been poisoned and the last fish has been caught will we realize we cannot eat money.”  -- Cree Indian Proverb

Recently, I had an epiphany that I should have had a long time ago. It really shouldn’t have surprised me; after all, we learn from an early age that money is the root of all evil, money makes the world go round, everything is about money…

And yet, I just now learned that everything is about money!

I don’t mean it the way we usually do—about politicians, businesses, etc. I mean it about normal, everyday people.

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Pearl StreetThe sun was beginning to make its way below the Rocky Mountains in the foothills of Boulder.  I had just helped an incredible, old farmer dig out an irrigation ditch on his plot of land, so I was a bit dusted.  My trusty turf shoes accompanied some old pants, a ratty, holey, gray, long-sleeved shirt, and a stocking cap was atop my head. A razor hasn't seen this face for some time, and some sweaty, dusty, locks found their way out from beneath my cap.  During the dig, the end of a pitchfork, used to get the leaves out of the ditch, had fallen off, and in my attempt to put it back on, it had slipped, so there was a bit of blood on my hand from a cut on my finger.

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“Don’t let ‘em drug women and throw 'em in trucks,

Make ‘em be civil and respectful and such!”

Until I’d read Alice Sebold’s memoir Lucky, I never realized what rape culture, blaming the victim, or any politics surrounding rape actually entailed. I’ve known people who experienced sexual violence; I experienced it myself as a child when I was attacked at a daycare center. That does not surprise me, though; statistically, 1 in 3 women will experience sexual violence within her lifetime.

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Next month’s issue of Pediatrics magazine will feature a new study conducted by Tulane University that indicates something that shouldn’t be very surprising: spanking children at age 3 can make them more aggressive by age 5. Most of us are aware the violence begets violence; men and women who are raised in violent homes often grow to become violent people, continuing the vicious cycle.

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River

I got to the peak, a place I had never been, stood for a moment, and looked around.  I realized I was all alone.  I stepped down, took in the moment, gave it one last glance, and moved on. 

I stood on the edge of the lake and threw it with everything I had into the cool water.  It entered without a splash or sound.  I tied it on the wings of a dove and watched as it flew away into the sky.  I set it next to the willow tree whose branches gently touch the water, and tossed it into the raging wind and watched it drift away, further and further from my grasp. 

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At the top of the buzz list of security conscious America, on the finger tips of American tweeters, this morning,  as many wake up and prepare to go to work, is the awful news of the terrorist bomb explosions in the Moscow subway.


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If you’re not first aid or CPR certified, haven’t volunteered in a while, or simply want to learn more about making a difference, March is the perfect time to do so. It’s American Red Cross Month, a time to both honor Red Cross workers and perhaps even become one yourself.

Having attended American Red Cross camp as a teen and worked with the organization to help educate youth on first aid, CPR, and AIDS, I can attest to how wonderful the organization really is. A friend whose grandmother worked at our local chapter got me in, so I never really even had to do much work to apply; but it’s very easy to do. You can just find your local chapter in the Yellow Pages or via the website, and then go from there. (In fact, as a feature of American Red Cross Month, the site has a very easy sign-up form available for filling out as soon as you click on the link.)

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