On Being an Urban Sprouts Family

Ellicia being introduced

My daughters' school recently broke ground on their new building and the Center's Director, Ellicia, asked me to speak from the perspective of a parent. Here is the text of my remarks: 

When Ellicia asked me if I'd say a few words on what it means to be an Urban Sprouts family, I knew the answer immediately. Being an Urban Sprouts family means being a member of a diverse, loving community where each individual is respected and valued.

The teachers are highly trained and skilled professionals who partner with parents in our shared goals of raising inquisitive children who can confidently make a difference in the world knowing their own worth and respecting the value of others.

Parenting is hard. There are so many choices, so many expectations, so much judgement, and it's all on you to not mess it up. They say 'it takes a village to raise a child' but they never tell you where to find your "village" and so many families are left isolated.

Urban Sprouts lives their values of diversity and community by bringing families together for fellowship at every opportunity. In addition to annual events like the chili cook off and the cultural picnic, there are little things like tastings of snacks the children prepare with fresh herbs and produce from the school's garden and curriculum nights where parents work together with their children on crafts.

These events and the community spirit that they foster don't just happen. It takes time, it takes money, it takes intentionality and a great deal of effort. For that, I'm extremely grateful to Ellicia Qualls, Andrea Barragan, and all of the Urban Sprouts teachers. 

It takes a village to raise a child and Urban Sprouts is a crucial part of my family's village.

Dachau Or My Feelings After the 2016 Election

Work Sets You Free.
The gate to the Nazi concentration camp, Dachau in southern Germany.

In 2002, I was an exchange-student at Ohm Gymnasium in Erlangen, Germany. We went on a field trip to Dachau, a concentration camp. On the bus on the way there, they assured me not that many Jews were sent to their deaths at this particular camp. 

This was mostly a concentration camp for gays and socialists. 

I think they told me this to help me feel more comfortable.

I walked around with some of my friends from class and as we were leaving one of the German kids, I think his name was Manny, handed me a piece of chocolate.

I was ugly-crying and could barely speak, but I felt like that piece of chocolate meant something. It felt important.

We got back in the bus and started driving back. As we drove up the hill, I looked out the window and noted the charming German houses with their cute little flower-boxes built in the eighteen-hundreds and earlier. 

Then, I looked out the window. 

From the bus I could see over the walls and into the camp. From the road, I could see the barracks that they had a rebuilt as a museum. In my imagination, I superimposed the pictures of grotesque human suffering perpetrated in that concentration camp some sixty years ago onto the quaint, well-manicured museum grounds there today.

It was those flowers. The flowers in the front yards and the cute little picturesque flower-boxes that struck me. 

From those windows, while tending those flowers, the people who lived in those houses could see into the camp.

They could always see. 

I thought how? How could people wake up every morning and see that out their bedroom window? 

I realize now in 2016, that I really don't want to find out. 

Fast Forward

It's been almost two years since I last updated this blog! In that time, BeeToddler has become BeePreschooler (she loves DC Super Hero Girls, My Little Pony, The Hobbit and all things adventuring, especially maps and treasure) and BeeBaby has become BeeToddler 2.0!

BoyBee mentioned that he likes to read my writing and that I don't share it enough recently, so... I'm back. Going to try to do this and stick with it since it makes me happy and maybe it will make you happy too person who is probably FaceBook/Twitter friends with me anyway.