Pre-Ramble:  A very powerful project/book titled “Where Children Sleep” by documentary photographer, James Mollison recently came to my attention, and I would like to share it with you here.

The following description, in Mollison’s own words, is taken directly from his website.

“Where Children Sleep- stories of diverse children around the world, told through portraits and pictures of their bedrooms. (Chris Boot publisher, November 2010)

When Fabrica asked me to come up with an idea for engaging with children’s rights, I found myself thinking about my bedroom: how significant it was during my childhood, and how it reflected what I had and who I was. It occurred to me that a way to address some of the complex situations and social issues affecting children would be to look at the bedrooms of children in all kinds of different circumstances. From the start, I didn’t want it just to be about ‘needy children’ in the developing world, but rather something more inclusive, about children from all types of situations.

It seemed to make sense to photograph the children themselves, too, but separately from their bedrooms, using a neutral background. My thinking was that the bedroom pictures would be inscribed with the children’s material and cultural circumstances ‘ the details that inevitably mark people apart from each other ‘ while the children themselves would appear in the set of portraits as individuals, as equals ‘ just as children.

The book is written and presented for an audience of 9-13 year olds ‘ intended to interest and engage children in the details of the lives of other children around the world, and the social issues affecting them, while also being a serious photographic essay for an adult audience.”

A sampling of the 56 diptychs presented in the book are featured on the artists’ website;  the selection shown above is Juan David, age 10, from Medellin, Colombia.

The Take-Away:  Awareness, understanding and compassion are great gifts you can give to the children in your life.  This book would be a great gift too.

Pre-Ramble: There’s a reason my golf handicap is so high … In addition to being a bad golfer, I am often distracted by the array of pretty flowers and wildlife that can be found out on our neighborhood golf course.

We’ve got foxes, turkeys, deer, egrets, great blue herons, goldfinch, blue birds, bunnies, turtles, … and three-quarters of the way up a big pine tree on hole #13, there’s a bald eagle nest — with two eaglets — !

If you’ve ever seen a bald eagle nest, you know that they are basically a giant heap of sticks wedged into a fork near the top of a tree.  And, if you’ve ever seen a baby eagle, you know that they are … well, how do I put this delicately?  …. ugly, homely, hideous-looking, … rather awkward in appearance and larger than the word “baby” would imply (they’re huge) … (juvenile eaglet shown at right).

If you look up from the tee-box, you can often see the mother eagle soaring around looking for edible little critters on the ground, or stationed on a nearby branch, patiently watching over the nest.  Such a majestic and diligent creature.

Based on the amount of squawking that comes out of that nest, I’m pretty sure we’ve got a couple of teenaged-girl-eaglets up there. Bet you a dollar that there are seed husks under the beds and feathers clogging the shower drain.  Ah, the tribulations of parenthood.

The Take-Away: Be that as it may, as the mother of two nearly grown girls who are all but perched on the edge of our nest this summer, I have only two words of advice for Mother Eagle:

1. Soak up as much of their wonderful presence and exuberance as you can because the time you can keep them under your wing is so, so short; and
2. Brush up on your tech skills. … Once those kidlets fly out of the nest, a quick text, Twitter or skype is all you’ve really got.

Pre-Ramble:  So, I am totally tardy in weighing in on President Obama’s message to the nation’s schoolchildren yesterday.  The thing is, I am actually so stunned by the reaction of those who object to the president’s speech to students, even more so of those who object to the president addressing students at all, that I can barely pull my thoughts together. 

In his speech, President Obama draws upon personal experiences and makes the case for the role of education in a successful life.

He highlights education as the great equalizer and speaks to the challenges faced by young people in a media culture that often presents an unrealistic view of the world and can serve as a distraction from the knowledge, skills, habits and attitudes which would advance the likelihood of a successful future in it. 

The truth is, being successful is hard. You won’t love every subject you study. You won’t click with every teacher. Not every homework assignment will seem completely relevant to your life right this minute. And, you won’t necessarily succeed at everything the first time you try.”

What parent doesn’t want their child to hear that message?  What parent doesn’t want their child to work hard and stay in school?  What parent would rather take their child OUT OF SCHOOL, than have them listen to the president of the United States give an18 minute pep talk around the importance of education and personal responsibility?  (Are they as vigilant about what their kids are listening to the other 1,422 minutes in a day?) What parent doesn’t want their child to hear new ideas; ideas that might be counter to the ones that they hear at home?  What parent/American citizen doesn’t want their child to be more engaged in what is going on in their community, country and world?

Parents who don’t want their children to listen to the president talk about the value of education are, at the very least, missing a teachable moment — an opportunity to talk to their kids about the things that matter to them, to share their own perspectives on issues and invite their children to think for themselves about the things that are happening around them.

The Take-Away:  The more I think about it, the more I want my child to listen to that speech twice.

Pre-Ramble: Lots of flapping and preening in the nest today as the Chiplets pull downy fuzz out of their coat by the beak-full to make way for the more streamlined, aerodynamic feathers below. Little did I know, as I watched the activity, that these fledgling feathered wings would be soon called to action.

So, earlier in the week, I had witnessed Mother Chipping Sparrow swoop onto the scene with a fresh, plump, bright green caterpillar dangling from her beak. From what I could see from my viewing bunker, she had chopped it up and distributed it evenly among the clamoring kids. Smart bird. We moms have all had to contend with the sibling rivalry ruckus that comes from the inevitable inequity of food portions … “No fair! Her piece of caterpillar is bigger than mine … ” blah, blah …

Since then, I have come across these bright green caterpillars everywhere…  I’m walking the dog — there’s a caterpillar… I’m on a run – there’s a caterpillar… I’m out in the garden — there’s a caterpillar. And, rather than pass up a perfectly good caterpillar, I’ve been coaxing them onto sticks and dragging them up onto the porch. (I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention this to anyone; the fact that I’ve set up orange traffic cones across the nesting zone to minimize disruption has generated more than enough snickering among my heartless, unsentimental family and friends.) 

I thought about delivering the caterpillar hot dish directly into the little outstretched beaks, but then thought the better of it. Would I want a complete stranger walking up to the crib and shoving food into my baby’s mouth? Something they had picked up off the street, no less? And what is the shelf life on these insects? I’d hate to be giving the Chiplets an expired caterpillar. So, I’d carefully lay the bugs-on-a-stick on the porch near the nest and slink away. They were always gone the next time I looked out there.

We knew it was going to happen.  Just after the above photo was taken (if you look closely, you can make out three little bird faces … one is looking right at you). (And, yes, there were four eggs in the nest … I don’t know what happened to the fourth bird, and I don’t want to talk about it.) As I made my way back inside, a frenzy of chirping broke out, and before I could turn to see what the commotion was all about, the nest was empty.

That’s the way it’s supposed to be. We’ve known since day one, that sooner or later the little birds were going to be ready to take that leap of faith, or predestination, or whatever it is that makes a creature fling itself beak-first into the future. Any other outcome would have been sad, tragic even. So, why is there still such an empty place where the energy around the nest used to be?

I’m sure the fact that our oldest child has gone to college and the youngest one is poised on the edge of our proverbial nest has something to do with it. It somehow doesn’t seem fair that in raising a child, the outcome that you hope for, that you work a significant part of your life for, exposes you to a deeply complex range of emotions, each of which resonates with a twang somewhere in your heart. It’s like suffering a loss and receiving a great gift all at once.

The Take-Away: Enjoy the moment and take things as they come. Just when you think things are the way they are, new things happen — bird nests pop up in bushes, kids move on to the next exciting phase of their lives, a twist of circumstances presents opportunities to try new things in the world. Seems like our best bet is to experience the things that come our way to the fullest extent of our interest, and be ready to move into whatever comes next. 

Sure, the Chiplets are gone. It’ll be an adjustment… (…what will I do with all that extra time?)  The good news is we can use the front door again, and I can finally sweep up all those dead pine needles and restock the Christmas planters. My hope is that the young birds will learn to find the bright green caterpillars on their own, perfect their flying skills, and send me a Tweet once in a while.