During grad school and while my older children were young, I watched very little tv. I had no real need for it in my life. Yet in the days after 9/11, I left the tv on more than I had previously. In that time, I stumbled upon Crossing Over with John Edward, a show in which psychic medium John Edward gave gallery readings for those who were wanting to reach loved ones who had died. I was captivated by the show, but I hid my viewing habits from my then-husband because I knew he would ridicule such things.

Many years later, I better understood my attraction to Crossing Over as my metaphysical gifts came to fruition. As I started to develop my gifts, I wanted desperately to read John Edward’s books, but because of my multiple chemical sensitivities, I could not read the paper versions and there were no digital editions available. I bought the paperback books and put them on my shelf, waiting for the day when I had enough health to read them. Eventually that day came, and over a few weeks, I happily read through most of his Edward’s non-fiction works. They were easy, fun, enjoyable books for me.

As I read through the books, I quickly recognized that Edward’s dysfunctional father was both an alcoholic and a narcissist; as a result, Edward was mostly estranged from his father as an adult. I understood completely from personal experience how and why that narcissism can create a situation in which it’s best for the child to separate from the toxic parent. It’s a very difficult situation for the adult children involved. Our society does not support this kind of “divorce” between a parent and child. Instead, adult children are chided for breaking the Judeo-Christian commandment “honor thy father and mother.” However, in situations where the converse of “honor thy child” is not being respected, a parental-child divorce can be the healthiest thing for all those involved.

My mother undeniably has narcissistic personality disorder, though for the almost 17 years she was in my life, she never received an official diagnosis. It’s rare for narcissists to receive diagnoses because they are often able to present themselves very well to strangers. It is only in living with narcissists or working extensively with them that their true natures are revealed. I have dozens if not hundreds of stories that typify my mother’s narcissism though for the purposes of this blog post, one will suffice.

After my daughter Rebecca died, we received abundant condolence cards for the month afterward. About eight weeks after her death, a card arrived from my mother, whom I had not had any contact with in over seven years at that point. I had not informed her of my pregnancy or my daughter’s death, but we still had common contacts; she likely found out through one of those channels. Unlike most people who sent us bereavement cards, my mother sent me (and not my husband) a card that was about how wonderful daughters are. To someone who doesn’t understand narcissism or my mother, this would seem like a cruel and demented sentiment: I had just lost my only daughter (at that time) to death, yet my mother had sent me a card telling me how wonderful daughters are. However, if you analyze the situation with the knowledge that my mother is a narcissist, the situation makes a great deal more sense: She was only thinking from her point of view. She was trying to express emotion about my loss, but the only way she could do it was by vocalizing her position: She missed her daughter. She couldn’t think through the whole process that I had actually lost my own daughter and that her card was incredibly inconsiderate of that.

For years, many people had told me that I would regret my estrangement from my mother when she died. I would suddenly realize that it was too late for us to work through our differences. There would be no second chance. But as I read chapter 11 of John Edward’s book After Life: Answers from the Other Side, I found a very different perspective. Edward discovered that he was actually able to begin working through his issues with his father after his father’s death once his father was freed from some of his earthly burdens such as alcoholism. While Edward clearly encourages that people should “communicate, appreciate, validate" every day before they lose their loved ones, he does offer hope that reconciliation can happen after death. Working from that place, I finally came to true peace with estrangement from my mother. I realized that even when she dies, I don’t expect to grieve for her. I may once again grieve for the healthy mother whom I never experienced, but I know I will be fine whether she is in this world or the next. I’ve spent many hundred years attached to her soul, and I no longer have any desire to be associated with her. Losing her in no way seems like a loss.

My mother’s parents have both come to visit me from the other side. I never met my grandfather in real life as he died ten years before I was born; my grandmother died when I was 17. Interacting with them after I opened to the metaphysical helped me to understand that while they might have shed burdens such as alcoholism, unless they choose to work on their souls after death, they still carry their soul level issues with them. Neither of my maternal grandparents had done extensive work on themselves, and thus, interacting with them was not inspiring or sentimental. They were very spiritually unhealthy people whom I didn’t want to have around. Quite honestly, if my mother takes the same position of not working on herself after death as her parents have, I definitely don’t want to get back in touch with her then either!

I am grateful for the peace I have reached with being estranged from my toxic mother. I have known from early on that it was for the best, but our society doesn’t always understand that. Instead, mother-daughter relationships are glorified in a way that isn’t always true. While I didn’t receive that love as a daughter, I have been able to experience it as a mother with my living daughter, and for that blessing, I am truly grateful.

© 2015 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance

A popular but misguided parenting idea in our society is that parents should force their children to engage in extracurricular activities whether the kids want to participate or not to “broaden their horizons.” In my view, this is a horribly dysfunctional approach to parenting. The basic problem with this approach is that it fails to respect that children are humans who deserve to be treated as individuals with opinions, desires, and needs. While it is one thing to ensure that our children have access to extracurricular activities that they enjoy, it’s another thing altogether to force them to do things they really don’t want to do. As adults, most of us know what we like and what we don’t like. We don’t want others forcing us into activities that we don’t enjoy. Why should we do the same to our children?

When I was in middle school, my narcissistic mother got it into her distorted thinking that I *had* to join sports teams. I am not naturally athletic, nor are any of my parents or relatives. Rather, most of my lineage has two left feet and is lucky to walk without hurting ourselves! Yet despite this obvious fact, my mother had created a fantasy of her daughter as an athlete. Against my protests, she signed me up for softball through our church where I occupied the bench for most of the game and was stuck in the outfield for the inning I played so that I’d had a mandatory minimum turn in each game. My mother also signed me up to play basketball through my school where I was ridiculed by my classmates for how bad of a player I was. Again, I made a great bench warmer. After the second year, I am pretty sure the coach told her not to sign me up again because it was hopeless.

By the popular theories of parenting, these experiences in athletics should have taught me to enjoy something new or should have created positive childhood memories or given me an appreciation for athletics as my horizons were broadened. Yet 25 years later, I’m pretty sure the experiences in sports only taught me that I would never force my children to belong to an organization that they did not want to join. I have always respected their wishes. If they felt that something wasn’t for them, I would honor their opinions. All my children hate P.E. as much as their father and I did when we were younger, and none of them have joined any sports teams. That’s ok by me. They have other interests that they pursue that meet their dreams and desires.

In a similar vein, my mother decided when I was in eighth grade that I needed to take cotillion (a form of high society dance classes) at a local all-boys’ school. At the age of 12, I had absolutely zero interest in boys as members of the opposite sex. I also had no interest in dancing. Between the verbal abuse of my mother which had made it clear to me I was fat and the ridicules of my classmates for being a size 14, I had no desire to be put in a situation that would put my body on display in any way. In the one and only time I intentionally pitted my parents against each other, I asked my father to make mother back off about cotillion. I knew full well that my father hated dancing and that he never would force me to do something involving dancing. And as I expected, my father told my mother that she was not allowed to force me to attend an event at a boys’ school that I didn’t want to attend. Fortunately, the fallout between them was not nearly as dastardly as I feared.

Only a year later, my mother decided that I needed to have boys in my life so that I could start dating. This time she selected the church youth group as my mandatory “must join” activity. I flat out refused. I had no desire to join a group that included classmates from my former public grade school where I had been miserable. The high school youth group at the church had a lot of dances and athletic activities which were still of no interest to me. So I stood up to my mother, and I actually won. A few weeks later, a friend invited me to attend a co-ed discussion group at a local boys’ school (the same one that held the cotillion). This was far more up my alley: Sitting around and having intellectual conversations worked for me. Not long thereafter, I met the guy who became my future husband through the discussion group. Despite my mother’s unfounded fears that I would never find a boyfriend, when given the space to develop and explore on my own terms, I found a group that provided me with my closest friends during high school and the future father of my children.

Unless a child has become completely anti-social, parents need to take the child’s desires into account. For children who are introverts, the activities their extrovert parents might enjoy are actually terrifying for them. Likewise, just because a parent loves a particular sport doesn’t mean that their child will like it or even learn to like it. In my opinion, the best way to get children involved in extracurricular activities is to allow children to pick from a large range of things. If your child loves music, let them pick an instrument to take lessons. If your child loves to build contraptions, a robotics club might meet their needs. And even if you had dreams of taking your daughter to her dance recitals, if she shows interest in cross country, then encourage her to participate in things that make her happy. Our job as parents is not to force our children to live out our dreams: It’s to support our children in living theirs.

© 2015 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

Back sometime between 1995 and 1998, I was a subscriber to Austin’s only daily newspaper which I read thoroughly (except for the business, sports, and classified sections). One year on Mother’s Day, there was a huge article with several large photos in the lifestyle section. The piece described a woman whose three children had been murdered by their father, her ex-husband. I was horrified. I didn’t understand how the paper thought that was an appropriate article to run on a day like Mother’s Day. In hindsight, I understand all too well.

Despite the greeting card and flower vendors’ cheerful endorsements of Mother’s Day which falls on the second Sunday of May each year in the U.S., not everyone finds the day to be one of celebration. For many people, Mother’s Day is filled with painful memories and/or current stress. The reality is that not everyone loves their mothers. Many have endured abusive relationships with our mothers, and thanking them for the “care” they provided for their children seems hypocritical at best. Some people are estranged from their mothers: Sometimes gratefully and sometimes with a lot of pain still attached to the separation. Our society provides a lot of support around divorcing a spouse, but there’s almost nothing there for those who decide to “divorce” a parent.

Other people were blessed enough to have wonderful mothers in this life, but those mothers have died. For those whose mothers aren’t here to celebrate because of death, the day can be horribly painful for surviving children, especially in the first years after their mothers’ deaths. While it will not eliminate the pain of the loss, sometimes doing something to celebrate the deceased woman can greatly help ease the discomfort of this holiday. Making your mother’s favorite meal, going to her favorite park, making a donation to her favorite charity… all of these are great ways to remember a mother. In my belief system, our deceased relatives are aware of us and our prayers, so I believe if you send thoughts to your late mother, she will hear them. It’s never too late to tell someone you love them, even if you aren’t able to hear them say it back.

If you are feeling particularly giving, know that there are always people in nursing homes who are terribly lonely on holidays. Either their children live far away, they have no descendants, or they’ve been abandoned by family. Regardless of the reasons why, these people can always use company, but especially on holidays when others have visitors and they do not. Most nursing homes will be happy to pair you with someone who would love to have you show up with a flower in hand and a willingness to talk for a while. (Please note that food gifts are not always the best with the elderly due to health-restricted diets.) If you don’t have a mother of your own to visit, know that there are many other women who could symbolically stand in her place.

For others, Mother’s Day is painful because they have had miscarriages or have lost a child (or even multiple children) to death. This is especially true when the child who has died was the firstborn but no subsequent siblings have been born. The women in these situations know in their hearts that they are mothers, but they don’t have children here to celebrate with them. Our society is less certain about whether these women are mothers, and people often don’t know how to handle the bereaved mothers. As is our society’s dysfunctional tendency, the usual result is that bereaved mothers are ignored on Mother’s Day (not to mention the other days of the year).

For many women, Mother’s Day is a dagger in their heart because they are suffering from infertility. They desperately want to be mothers, but they are not able to for whatever reasons. To see motherhood glorified all around them can make the women enduring infertility feel even more hurt than they already are by the traumas of infertility.

For biological mothers who have put their children up for adoption, Mother’s Day can also create a great deal of pain. While the choice to let another woman become a mother when one is not able to raise a child oneself is an amazing gift, the child that the biological mother gave up will always be in her heart. For some women, Mother’s Day may be a day of “what ifs” and mourning because they are not with their biological child even if they know they’ve made the best decision. For others, it may be a day of regret for making the choice they did.

Thirteen years ago when my twins were still toddlers, I attended Mass at a friend’s Catholic church on Mother’s Day. In what I’m sure the planners thought was a beautiful ceremony, all of the mothers were encouraged to come forward and receive a carnation at the end of the service. I was horrified. I knew that at least one of the women in the congregation had to want to be up in the front but she wasn’t able to be for some reason. While it’s one thing to pray a special blessing over those in the congregation who’ve given life to others, it’s another thing to bring them to the front so that all the non-mothers stood out like sore thumbs among the sea of men. In a probably unnoticed act of solidarity, I refused to go forward even though I had a toddler in my arms.

For me personally, Mother’s Day used to be a painful day. I am estranged from my narcissistic mother by choice. I haven’t seen her in 22+ years. I don’t miss that particular woman at all, but part of me will always miss the fantasy of the healthy loving mother whom I never had. For many years, I used Mother's Day as a time to pay tribute to the women who were mentors for me and who provided me with healthier role models of what women should be like; they played a role in mothering me in when my own mother could not. I also had many years where Mother’s Day was a painful reminder to me that I had lost a child. I now choose to focus on the beauty of the children who are with me, though it took many years for me to get there. I’m grateful that I can now find joy in the celebration of being a mother, but on Mother’s Day, my thoughts and prayers are always with those for whom it’s a day of pain.

© 2015 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

Many popular memes and quotes assert ideas about the amazing, boundless love of mothers for their children. A sampling from the internet turns up:

• “The love of a mother and her child is like none other.” ~Vicki Reece 
  
• “A daughter is just a little girl who grows up to be your best friend.”
• “The memories that a mother leaves are cherished forever.” 
  
• “No matter how old you get, a mother’s love is still a real comfort.” ~Stephanie Linus
  
• “A mother’s love is the heart of a family.”
  
• “A mother’s love is instinctual, unconditional, and forever.” ~Revathi Sankaran
  
• “A mother is your first friend, your best friend, your forever friend.”
  
• “A mother’s love is endless.”
  
• “The love between a mother and daughter is forever.”
  
• “Being a mother doesn't mean being related to some
• one by blood. It means loving someone unconditionally and with your whole heart.”
  
• “A mother’s love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.” ~Agatha Christie
  
• “The love of a mother for her child is undeniably the strongest emotion in the soul.”  ~Sandy Richards
  
• “Mother love is the fuel that enables a normal human being to do the impossible.” ~Marion C. Garretty 
  
• “A mother’s love is patient and forgiving when all others are forsaking. It never fails or falters even though the heart is breaking.” ~Helen Steiner Rice

These sayings are true… except when they’re not. Unfortunately, for the children of narcissistic mothers, they’re often just myths, and reading quotes like these may just amplify a pain in their hearts for the loss they've experienced in life. They've never had the experience of having a truly loving and giving mother.

No mother is perfect: They’re all human. All mothers make mistakes. However, the issues that exist between narcissistic mothers and children, though, aren't simply matters of misunderstanding or parent-child conflict. They run far deeper. This is because people with narcissistic personality disorder are unable to love others in an unconditional way. Instead, their love is self-oriented: Narcissists see other people, including their children, as existing to meet their own needs. The narcissists simply don’t have the emotional ability to love others as they need and deserve to be loved.

The Dalai Lama has written, “Love is the absence of judgment.” For the children of narcissists, they may never have experienced true love. Instead, they’ve felt a painful and conditional set of demands from mothers who disrespect the children’s needs. As these children grow, their own relationships with their spouses will often suffer unless a great deal of personal growth and therapy is involved. Because the children have been involved in toxic parental relationships all their lives, they may not recognize what a healthy love looks like, and instead, they will marry or partner with others who will continue the judgmental pattern of “love” that began with narcissistic mothers in childhood.

As Mother’s Day approaches, the plethora of praise of mothers will be abundant in the social media world, and those words may add more pain to already deep wounds. For those who are seeking to heal their own wounds, I highly recommend the book Will I Ever Be Good Enough?: Healing the Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers by Karyl McBride, Ph.D. This work examines the toxic legacy of which narcissistic mothers create in their daughters. A great deal of the book is oriented towards those who are still in toxic relationships with their mothers or who want to maintain relationships with their mothers despite the emotional abuse they perpetrate. Only a small portion of the book acknowledges the option of ending a relationship with a narcissistic maternal abuser (as I personally chose to do). However, reading this book was an eye-opening experience for me, helping me realize that I wasn’t alone in the world of narcissistic abuse and how it influenced my life, my career, and my former marriage. I’ve since recommended the book to many other women who have narcissistic mothers, and most of them had the same response: “It’s not just me!”

This Mother’s Day, if you aren’t experiencing the love that our Judeo-Christian society dictates is necessary for children to feel for parents, remember that love is a two way street. In relationships with narcissistic abusers, you are under no obligation to praise those who may have hurt you. Finding peace with those abusers and with yourself for what you’ve experienced in life can go a long way towards a happier life. You never have to condone what the narcissists have done to you, but understanding how and why they treat(ed) you the way they do/did can make it easier to respond to them from a place of compassion. In turn, this will help you find a place of peace rather than living in a state of pain, fear or anger.

© 2015 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

In a sixth season episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation called “Relics,” Commander Will Riker is speaking with Captain Montgomery Scott, a.k.a. Scotty from the original Star Trek television series. As they examined a small shuttle that was being given to Scotty, Riker says, “She’s not much to look at.” Scotty replies, “Laddie, every woman has her own charm. You just have to know where to look for it.” There’s a great deal of wisdom in that statement, and not just about women. All people are all beautiful in their own ways.

However, our society creates ideals of popularity and beauty that are based on conformity, not individuality. From the moment we start school, we are expected to fall in line and do as all of our classmates are doing. We buy the same school supplies, the same Trapper Keepers, the same styles of clothing (if we aren't wearing uniforms), the same lunch boxes, the same cell phones… the list goes on and on. While we might pick different colors or patterns, the overall items are the same. We conform to peer pressure and want to buy the products that will make us fit in well.

Likewise, our behavior and personalities are meant to conform to certain ideals. In my childhood, the teachers who embraced independent thinkers were rare. Most wanted students to behave according to certain standards and to think like the masses. Students who questioned authority or the “truth” that was being taught were not lauded. Instead, they are branded as trouble-makers. Most of the authority around me, including teachers and parents, wanted the next generation to be safely molded into the same form as they had been.

Despite these attempts of our society to enforce conformity, we are all individuals. We are all different. And while our outsides “might not look like much,” we all are filled with our own charm and beauty. Through embracing our differences, we actually find ways of being ourselves. If we all were truly alike, life would be really boring! As you go about your day today, offer gratitude for one of your qualities that makes you different from others. Likewise, find a way to appreciate the differences in the people around you, whether at home, school or work. Even if you find those differences to be challenging, try to accept that those differences are challenges can make you grow as an individual. Through trying to appreciate the strengths we all have in our differences, we will find the world is a much more beautiful place than we normally think.

© 2015 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

There is a popular saying that if your date treats you well but doesn't treat the waiter well, then your date is probably not a person who will treat you well in the long run. Too often people will put on their best manners for show but their true personality can't be hidden for long.

A month ago, my kids and I went out to breakfast at a popular local restaurant to celebrate my youngest's birthday before school. We were eating and conversing when the waiter came by and picked up some plates we were done with. My older son instinctively said thank you to the waiter as he took a dish away. The waiter got a look of surprise on his face and said, “Wow! Great manners!” It shocked me that the waiter was so taken back by simple basic manners from a teenager. Since this waiter was training a new employee that day, I'm sure he'd waited on lots of tables himself before our meal. I hate to think that is just so rare for him to get a thank you from a teenager that he would actually comment on it.

My ex-husband and I did the initial teaching with our kids when they were toddlers and preschoolers to help them to learn to say please and thank you. Since then, we haven't had to do anything. I am sure they picked up on the fact that they are supposed to thank waiters based on the modeling of my ex-husband and I always doing the same. For us, it's just common courtesy to say thank you to someone who helps you. I'm glad my kids have absorbed this habit. I wish the same was true for all other people out there. 

Today, consider going out of your way to thank someone who does something simple for you. The act may seem small, but the niceties we exchange can make a huge difference in someone's life. Feeling like someone appreciates you is really important. Gratitude is a simple way to make the world a better place.

© 2015 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

Many parents in our society have a twisted idea that they know what is best for their children at all times. This issue goes far beyond telling a child they have to wear a seatbelt in the car, a legitimate responsible requirement for any parent to make of a child. Rather, these overbearing parents make decisions for everything in their children’s lives. Many children are forced into schools, friendships, sports, jobs, and even relationships that are arranged by their parents rather than following their own hearts, dreams and desires.

I have recently been watching The Carrie Diaries, the prequel to Sex and the City, which follows the adventures of high schooler Carrie Bradshaw. The series has some of the same themes as Sex in the City such as female camaraderie and a love of fashion, but it’s a very different show about teenagers coming of age. As juniors in high school, the reality of “the real world” is just around the horizon. After one dismal Thanksgiving dinner, two of Carrie’s friends, Maggie and Walt, a mismatched couple, discuss the role of parents and their future.

By the time I got to high school, I realized that I didn't want to be a doctor at all. I knew I wanted to be a teacher. However, I knew that I couldn't share my dreams with my mother because her narcissistic self would never allowed my dreams to be considered. What she wanted for me was all that mattered regardless of how I actually felt about it. Instead of following her dreams for me, though, I made plans to attend a major state university where almost any degree was a possibility as an undergrad. Once I got to college, I declared myself a history and English double major pursuing secondary certification. By that time, my mother was no longer actively in my life, but the rest of my extended family responded with disapproval. I was told by more than one person, “But you’re too smart to become a teacher!” Um? First of all, don’t we want our children’s teachers to be smart? And second, didn't my desires matter at all? I decided that my family’s opinions were irrelevant since it was my life. I couldn't bear the thought of being a doctor or lawyer like they were encouraging, so I did what I wanted to do.

Did I stay in teaching for my entire life? No. Do I believe it was a mistake for me to have walked down that road? Not at all. It was what I was meant to do with the earlier part of my life. Teaching has been foundational in my subsequent careers. I still believe that I am a teacher, but I no longer teach traditional subjects in a traditional classroom. Instead, I am teaching individuals and groups in informal settings, hourly appointments and private classes. Most importantly, though, was that it was my decision to make. I needed to follow my own heart and desires.

Now, as my children are facing high school career paths (a recent, misguided, and developmental inappropriate idea in Texas schools courtesy of the state legislature) and the eventual graduation to college majors, I have to let them make their own decisions. That doesn't mean that I don’t want them to be realistic. My daughter voiced that she wanted to be a photography major, and I love that she loves photography as much as she does. Still, I explained to her the realities of a career in photography. In our modern world, it is very difficult to sustain oneself as a photographer. I encouraged her to pursue a degree in photography but to also double major in another field that she loves or to structure her degree in such a way that she can broaden her employment skills. She seemed to understand that reality and is taking design and Photoshop classes that are giving her practical but fun skills. Who knows what she’ll actually do in her life, but the final decision will be hers to make.

As Carrie Bradshaw’s father confronts her boss, Larissa Loughton, at the magazine where Carrie took the new internship unbenounced to him, the following conversation ensues:

Remember the “good ol' days?” Yeah. Me neither. Humans as a whole, though, have a bad habit of believing that things were always better in their younger years. It amused me greatly when I was doing dissertation research on 19th century America to read authors bemoan the reckless next generation who were going to destroy everything that was decent about humanity. Almost every generation fears the changes the next brings as they fade out of power; this pattern repeats itself often.

Quite often in popular culture (such as on a local radio show last week), I’ll hear someone talking about, “Well, when I was young, we did [insert specific potentially dangerous action]. It was fine then, so it’s fine for my kids, too.” However, that’s really poor logic. While many of us may have survived the stupid things we did in our youth, other children did not. They’re not here to tell their sides of the story, and they didn't live long enough to have to children to stop them from doing the same thing.

While watching Move Over, Darling (1963, starring Doris Day, James Garner, and Polly Bergen with minor roles by Don Knotts and John Astin) recently on Netflix, I was confronted with one of those situations. As the early scenes of the movie unfold, the young daughters of the lead characters are playing in a pool unsupervised. These girls are between 5.5 and 6 years old based on the timing of them being teething infants when their mother was lost at sea five years prior. In the movie, no one blinks twice about the fact that these girls are playing unattended in a private swimming pool in the back yard, but the modern mother in me had an “aack!” moment over it. 

Clearly social values fifty years ago didn’t see unattended young children in a pool as problematic, and I’m sure it’s one of those things that people said to themselves, “When I was young, we did it without a problem.” However, that’s not true for many others. The American Academy of Pediatrics states that “drowning rates have fallen steadily from 2.68 per 100,000 in 1985 to 1.32 per 100,000 in 2006. But drowning continues to be the second leading cause of death for children ages 1 to 19, claiming the lives of roughly 1,100 children in 2006. Toddlers and teenaged boys are at greatest risk.” The AAP warns against leaving young children unattended by a pool that doesn’t have a sufficient fence around it. While these young girls clearly knew how to swim well, they weren't old enough to be trusted to make good life (or death) decisions at all times.

Examples like this of formerly “safe” practices aren't hard to find. I tried to watch Mad Men recently and utterly failed, giving up after only a few episodes because I was both so bored with and disturbed by the show.  However, in one of the early episodes, two mothers are talking in the kitchen while their kids play elsewhere in the house. The female owner of the house calls for her daughter who shows up with a dry cleaning bag on her head. I’m sure I was not the only who cringed (as the writers wanted us to) when I saw that. However, the mother says nothing to the daughter about suffocation risks and instead warns her that she better not have put the clean dry cleaning on the floor to play with the bag. The obvious parenting priorities: unwrinkled clothing over a child not suffocating! 

In a recent article for The New Yorker, author Tad Friend meets with Matthew Weiner, the creator of Mad Men. Weiner asked Friend what he thought Mad Men was about, to which Friend replied, “Bad parenting.” Weiner replied, “’No. No. That certainly wasn't the focus…. Look, there is definitely some bad parenting in the show, but there’s no drama in good parenting. And plenty of the bad-parenting moments didn’t come from me.’” Yet when I watched the few episodes of the show that I could handle, if you asked me the top five things I thought the show was about, it would have been the huge changes in parenting for the better since the 1960s.

Even in my own lifetime as a child of the 1970s and 1980s, bicycle helmets and seatbelts are two very common changes that have occurred. I never wore a bicycle helmet as a young child; no one I knew did. Seatbelts were something that kids of my generation wore sometimes, maybe. It wasn’t a steadfast rule. I often sat in the front seat as a young child and just put the shoulder strap behind me. My ex-husband’s family didn't even own a car that would safely hold four children: They just shoved the two youngest into the wells on the floor in the backseat. And while one could argue that both my ex-husband and I made it to adulthood, there were many others of our generation who didn't.

The next time you find yourself having a defensive reaction where you say, “Well, when I was young, we did it that way and things turned out fine,” take a moment to decide why you are responding in that way. Was what you did truly safe? How many other children didn’t make it to adulthood because of that practice? Will not engaging in that action make the lives of the next generation less worthwhile? The answers may surprise you when you stop to think about the bigger picture rather than trying to recreate a potentially dangerous part of your childhood for your children.

© 2015 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

Every once in a while, hindsight kicks in and we find ourselves saying, “If only I had known that when…” Today, I had that experience while reading The Silent Marriage: How Passive Aggression Steals Your Happiness. I wish someone had handed me this book ten years ago when my former marriage began have serious problems which ultimately led to its demise. The information in the pages describes the journey I had to walk on my own, learning these truths without a resource guide. While the issues in our relationship were further compounded by the challenges of chronic illness, the basic premise was still the same.

The Silent Marriage is a short Kindle e-book which only cost $4 at the time I ordered it. I have found that the self-published books in this category are often lacking in editing and content. However, I was pleasantly surprised by Nora Femenia and Neil Warner’s work. While the book is not perfect, it is a great place for a woman in a marriage with a passive-aggressive partner to start evaluating what is going on and how she wants to handle it. It’s resource I can see recommending to clients because it is so short and because it is written on a very accessible level for the general population.

The basic information about passive-aggression in the book is based on insecure attachment of the passive-aggressive man to his parents, particularly his mother, when he was a child. This insecure attachment created an avoidant personality wherein the passive-aggressive man seeks love from a spouse while simultaneously emotionally abusing her by pushing her away. His passive-aggressive manipulation is an effort to retain control in a situation where he actually has none: Love is given freely or it is not love. We cannot force people to love us.

My main critique of the book relates to its portrayal of the non-passive-aggressive person in the relationship (usually the wife in this text) as a victim of her husband’s mental disorder. Occasionally it is acknowledged that the wife has an active role in all the relationship, but the emphasis is on the wife not blaming herself for her husband’s behavior. The wife is not a victim, though. She chooses to stay in the relationship, and she contributes to the dysfunction of the relationship in how she responds. I felt like the book really could have done a better job of helping the wife in this situation work on her part of the dysfunction beyond teaching her that she is not responsible for her husband’s emotionally abusive behavior.

Another point of contention for me in this work is the mother-blame which dominates the authors’ theories. If a neglectful or abusive mother raises four children, not all four will become passive-aggressive. Maybe one or two will be based on the families I know with this situation. It’s also possible that the mother is not the primary caregiver and therefore is not the one who created the development of an avoidant insecure attachment in the future passive-aggressive husband. Simply blaming all of the issues on the husband’s mother doesn't allow for the personal responsibility that each of us has in regards to our response to how others treat us. While that response may be partially genetic, partially environmental, and partially related to our fundamental spirit, it’s not entirely the mother’s fault.

The other issue that bothered me in this book was that men are seen as the passive-aggressive partners in the heterosexual marriage. In today’s day and age, it’s time for authors to begin recognizing that not all marriages involve a man and a woman. Furthermore, it’s not always the husband who is the passive-aggressive spouse. I know women who are passive-aggressive, too. I felt as though the authors could have reached a broader audience by examining passive-aggression as a human condition, not one limited to those of a certain sex or gender orientation.

Despite my critiques, I finished this book wanting to read more by the authors to see what other insights they had on passive-aggression. I know that this book will help many women who are trying to understand why their husbands will no longer talk to them, thus creating the silent marriage of the title.

© 2015 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

When my kids were little, they all had multiple food sensitivities including dairy, soy, and corn. One of them was also very sensitive to artificial food colorings and flavorings. As a result, we avoided these items with the kids.That made finding candy for holidays like Easter and Halloween challenging. In addition, we just didn't want to fill our kids up with sugar laden junk food. Cheap plastic toys that were made in China were not appealing to me, either. As a result, we looked for something different to put in our kids’ eggs at Easter. The first year the older two were into the Easter festivities (at approaching age 3, past the oral fixation stage), we stuffed a penny in each egg, and they were thrilled. But as they aged, this didn't seem to be the right thing to do.

One year the Easter Bunny must have been struck by lightning, or at the very least, she was feeling kind of crazed by being homebound. As a result, the Easter Bunny designed a treasure hunt with clues in the eggs. The kids followed the clues to find their hidden gift from the Bunny. They loved it. As the years progressed, the puzzles became harder and harder. Last year the puzzle was a multi-fold challenge that took the kids 2.5 hours to solve. It was a crossword puzzle with the individual clues stuck in the eggs. The clues were about Greek, Roman and Egyptian gods, something my kids are familiar with thanks to the works of Rick Riordan and others. In addition, the number parts of the clues were math problems adding a second layer of difficulty to the puzzle. After they finally finished it, my daughter asked in exasperation, “Can’t we just do a jigsaw puzzle again next year?”

In one previous year, I had created a clue photo in Photoshop and had a company create a custom jigsaw puzzle out of it. I then stuffed puzzle pieces in the eggs for the kids to find and assemble. This year, as I was searching the internet for the best deal in puzzle makers, I found one that makes custom double-sided puzzles. That was too tempting for the Easter Bunny to resist. On one side of the puzzle, there are riddles that describe the hiding places of their Easter gifts. (Each is getting a book of trivia this year.) On the other side is a picture of them from last Easter. The kids had a great deal of fun putting it together.

One of the things I always make sure to do is create a puzzle that is collaborative. There's no competition, and if the kids don't work together, they can't solve the puzzle. When my twins were only a few weeks old and I was spending most of the day trapped under a twin nursing pillow, I read the book Siblings Without Rivalry: How to Help Your Children Live Together So You Can Live Too by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish. The book was life-changing for me. It clarified for me how my parents had done so many things to pit my brother and me against each other. I knew I wanted something very different for my children. Hence, my ex and I have always worked to make sure our kids see our family as a unified team, not a competition, from birth onward. As you can see from the picture above, once the kids pull their clues out of the Easter egg, they put them into a combined bowl and solve them together, each filling out a copy of the puzzle. Crossword puzzles can be easier when you have three brains to use instead of just one!

We also started a tradition when the kids were little that I wrote their names in paint pen on the majority of the eggs. That way each can only pick up 1/3 of the eggs since they can't take eggs without their name on it. It means they end up helping siblings find eggs that they've missed, too. I've since seen a suggestion to use one egg color for each kid; that sounds like an easier solution than the one I'd worked out! It keeps Easter from being a bitter competition about who can collect the most eggs, though it certainly doesn't cut down on the chaos and fun around here!

Easter is a lot of fun for my kids and me. We continue to celebrate despite the fact they are ages 12, 14 and 14 this year. The puzzles are a firmly entrenched tradition for us, one that I half expect my children to want me to continue into their adult years. I suggested a few years ago that we might stop, and my children were horrified at the idea. I’m actually glad. I have to admit I look forward to it, too.

© 2015 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

When children are young, they have no sense of shame about their bodies until older humans teach them that their bodies are something to hide.  Modesty is not a trait that we are born with.  Any parent of a toddler or young child can affirm that.  When my kids were little, we used to call my youngest “the gingerbread man” after a Joe Scruggs song by the same name from a musical calledNot Afraid of the Dark.  In that song, a young child has gotten out of the tub and begins his/her/hir nightly streaking routine:

"Bathtime's over; I’m almost a prune.
Get your pajamas on ‘cause it’s bedtime soon.
Mom dries me off; she holds my pjs out
But I run past her and then I shout
Singing, 'Run, Run as fast as you can.
You can’t catch me; I’m the gingerbread man.'
Mom’s chasing me, my pajamas in her hand
She can't catch me; I'm the gingerbread man.
I run past Dad. He says I look cute
Running by in my birthday suit.
Mom's getting tired; she hands my pjs to dad.
And this is the most fun that I've ever had."

Young children love being naked.  It’s their natural state.  Yet we as adults try to hide nudity from our children.  We consider it taboo for children to see naked bodies.  This is more a reflection of our own fears rather than a need to protect them from something that is completely unnatural and dangerous:  The human body in its most natural state is nothing to be ashamed of or to fear.

However, most of us grow up, and we become conditioned by society to hide our bodies.  Even more problematically, we become ashamed of our bodies, too.  We learn from the media, from movies, and from others around us that if our body is anything less than perfect, we should not show or share it.  While most of our society doesn't endorse burqas, we do have ideals about what a “bikini body” is and who is entitled to wear a bikini.

Here's a shocker, though:  Most bodies don’t look like Photoshopped models.  We come in all shapes and sizes.  Many years ago, I stumbled upon The Shape of a Mother when I was looking for photos of twin skin to explain it to someone.  (Twin skin is the abnormally stretched and baggy abdominal skin that many mothers of multiples end up with after their pregnancies are over.)  I was thrilled to see someone trying to normalize what women's bodies look like after pregnancy.  More projects like this one such as Expose Photoshoot by Liora K Photography serve to help normalize women’s bodies as beautiful no matter what shape, size, or color they are.  Books like This is Who I Am: Our Bodies in All Shapes and Sizes by Roseanne Olson further the cause of accepting our bodies as they are.  Women don’t have to be skinny and smooth to be beautiful:  They are already perfect in their own right just by being themselves.

As I have reentered the dating world, I've found a very bizarre dominant idea that many middle-aged heterosexual men want women to have “perfect” bodies.  The men want the women to be skinny, fit, and for lack of a better term, future trophy wives.  The men who are willing to accept women who don’t live up to society's ideals of a perfect body are few and far between.  It seems that most men have absorbed the idea that women should look like models even if the men themselves aren't in the greatest shape.  I've heard from male friends that it’s true on the other side of the fence as well:  Most women want men who are athletic or at least slender in build.  It's a sad commentary on our society when looks are valued far more than personalities, talents, and abilities. 

So how do we go about changing these false ideals?  Projects such as the above ones help to breakdown the distorted notions of beauty that have been created in our society.  Boycotting dating sites such as Tinder which place an emphasis on looks over anything is a way to help squelch such practices.  Most importantly, we need to be teaching our children that they are so much more than the shape of their bodies.  We need to teach them not to be ashamed of their bodies.  They are amazing people no matter what they look like.  If we teach them to accept themselves just as they are, then perhaps future generations will be able to change our distorted ideals which use specific physical standards to judge beauty rather than looking at the whole person.

© 2015 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

When my health and marriage both were very bad many years ago, I began dissociating, or more technically, I began “depersonalizing.”  What this feels like is one’s energy or spirit or soul flying out of one’s body and being able to look down on it from above.  When this happens, I have no memories for the time when my soul is outside my body.  The first time it happened to me as an adult, it really scared me.  Ironically, I had no memories of it ever happening before.  However, in that moment when I dissociated, something had happened which traumatized me, and so my instinctive response was for my soul to leave my body. After a short while, my soul re-integrated, but I was very freaked out by it each time it happened. Whenever I dissociated, my then-husband's approach was to walk out of the room and leave me alone.  That was exactly the wrong thing to do.  I was terrified and wanted help, not to be abandoned.  After some training, he learned not to run, but being with me during those times was not his instinct.

I began talking to my chiropractor about this when it first started happening.  He told me that he completely believed me that it was happening, but he also did not think that dissociation was something new for me.  That was a strange idea to me since I didn't think I had memories of it happening before.  However, because I trusted him, I then went to the marriage therapist my then-husband and I were seeing and asked for some advice because I didn't have an individual therapist to help me at that point.  The marriage therapist confirmed what my chiropractor had said:  That it was very unlikely that dissociation was something new for me.  The marriage therapist stated that not a lot was known about dissociation, but what is known is that dissociation starts at a very young age as a coping technique to deal with trauma.  He said it also is more likely to occur among very intelligent people.

At that point, I began researching.  I found what these men had said to me was true, plus I found a few more helpful bits of information.  Suddenly, lights went off in my head.  In all my traumatic experiences as a child, I could remember the first part of the trauma, but after that, it was like someone pushed stop on the recorder in my mind.  After a certain point, my memories around that event would just black out to nothingness.  They’d start back up a while later, sometimes minutes and sometimes hours. Technically, this is known as dissociative amnesia.  Dissociating was definitely not something new for me as an adult:  It was just something rediscovered in a time when my body and soul were under great stress.

When I began seeing my favorite individual therapist a few years ago, I mentioned that I can dissociate to her.   I explained that when it happens, it feels like my soul leaves my body.  She responded by saying, “It does. It leaves through the crown of your head and stops about 'here' (indicating a place about eighteen inches above her head).”  When she showed me that, my instinctive thought was, “Holy shit.  She really gets this.”  That was the first time anyone I’d spoken to had truly understood what happens during dissociation.

Since that time, I've learned how to stop the dissociation.  This was a multi-layered process of change.  The first and most important part of stopping the process was recognizing the signs of it starting.  Once I realized the sensations I feel in my body when I'm about to dissociate, I was able to keep myself grounded in my body.  Staying grounded usually begins with firmly planting my feet on the ground and trying to draw on the earth’s energy to stabilize me.  I then begin a mantra in my head: “I am safe.  My children are safe.”  Until I added on the sentence about my children, I wasn't able to make the mantra work for me.  Their safety was a huge part of my fear and I had to acknowledge them no matter what the details of the situation were that I was facing.

One of the other larger methods of controlling the dissociation was a much deeper and more difficult challenge.  This involved learning how to keep myself more grounded all of the time, not just when I was in panic mode.  To this end, I wore the same obsidian pendant (shown above) for nine months straight.  By the end of those nine months, my energy had shifted completely.  I was no longer so flighty feeling, and my skin was more comfortable for me to be in.  I was so glad when I no longer needed to wear that necklace all the time, though I occasionally put it on in situations that I know will be stressful because I know the obsidian’s energy is strong and powerful for me.  However, the same necklace might not help others who dissociate because we all have different energetic needs when it comes to using crystals.

I know many who explore metaphysics intentionally try to have out of body experiences, also known as OBEs.  For me, that is a strange idea since I've been able to force my soul out of my body since I was a child, even though it was something I only did in times of trauma.  I've had to work hard to stop this terrifying process from happening, yet others seek it out.  I've also unintentionally experienced astral projection, though I've had to put a stop to that as well.  Leaving my body is not something that serves my soul’s higher purpose at this time.  Instead, my challenge in this life has been to stay grounded and to work through the issues I must face on this planet.

Because of the work I have done, dissociation is no longer a common issue for me, and I am grateful for that.  The only time the instinct might arise for me is when I am processing deep and traumatic wounds that I have stored in my body.  However, any time that I do feel fear rising in me, I know how to ground myself and find peace.

© 2015 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

On a recent evening when I was in a great deal of pain, I began watching various movies in my Netflix queue looking for a mindless distraction.  The first two movies I tried out were unsatisfactory; I rated them two stars after trying to watch each for 10 minutes. The third film, however, was anything but mindless, yet it sucked me in quickly and held my attention for 89 straight minutes.  Miss Representation (2011) is a documentary directed by Jennifer Siebel Newsom who began the project when she found she was pregnant with a daughter.  She took a deeper look at the world around her and realized that this was not the world she wanted her daughter raised in.  

Like Siebel Newsom, raising a daughter made me reexamine the world around me.  While I had lost my belief in the tenets of the Catholic faith years before, I was still attending a liberal Catholic Church until my daughter was three. At that time, Austin had an ultra-conservative bishop who was determined to root out all perceived liberalism in the diocese.  When the bishop visited parishes, the church leaders were advised to keep women off of the altar:  No altar girls, no female lectors, no women cantors or communion distributors.  While women are approved to serve in all of those roles by the Vatican, this bishop didn’t want to see women in front of the church. He’s not alone in his views.  The Vatican also still asserts that women cannot be priests. Suddenly, I realized that I didn’t want my daughter being raised in a church where she was told that she wasn’t as good as a boy.  Wanting a better world for her was what helped me find the courage to leave a church I no longer agreed with.

Miss Representation doesn't investigate issues around sex and religion, but it does examine the impact of the media and politics on women.  Since I isolate myself from the news quite a great bit because I find it too intense to watch as an empath, I was shocked at some of the practices still happening in our media today.  I knew that Hillary Rodham Clinton was disrespected by the media, but I wasn't aware of how many other female politicians faced similar unmerited criticisms based on their sex alone.  Likewise, because I tend to seek out movies with strong female leads and characters, I had no idea how many actresses and female directors in Hollywood are still struggling to be seen on the same level as their male peers.  Issues like these fill this fast-paced documentary that is packed with facts, video clips, and interviews with experts in many fields.

At the end of the film, someone suggests that we need media literacy courses in our high schools to help educate our students about the reality of what our media does.  Given how saturated our world is by media and commercialism, I think that's a great idea.  I really would love to see Miss Representation as a part of a mandatory high school curriculum, though I am sure many others who look at the world through different lenses would disagree with me.

(I've attached a very long list of questions that I generated from Miss Representation that could be used to start discussions in a group or for personal journaling.  There are far too many questions to use in one meeting, so please feel free to edit and change as necessary to fit your group’s needs.)

© 2015 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

I am an intellectually gifted individual.  That’s not meant to be an egotistical statement:  It’s a simple fact of who I am.   I’m definitely not the smartest person in the world (by a long shot!), but the more than ample intelligence I possess has created numerous challenges for me over the course of my life. 

I started reading before I was three years old.  From the time I was in kindergarten, I had special permission to check out the “big kid” chapter books in the school library because I was long past reading the picture books in the kindergarten section.  I also have many memories of my teachers using me as a teacher’s aide because I was so far ahead of my peers that having me do the same work as them was pointless.

I have a June birthday, and my parents had considered starting me early in half-day kindergarten at age four.   This is the course I would recommend for most gifted children if it is an option in their school district.  Our society is relatively accepting of starting a child young, especially if the child has a fall or winter birthday.  Also, if I had needed to spend a second year in kindergarten, it probably would not have been as big of deal as skipping a grade became in a later grade.  (One of my kindergarten friends did this due to his lack of emotional maturity.)   However, my parents decided to start me with the rest of my five year old peers.  This began an annual discussion between my parents and the school as to whether or not to have me “skip” a grade.  However, it never happened at that school.

In third grade, I was in a combination third/fourth class, so the teacher just had me do all the fourth grade work.  That meant I finished fourth grade instead of third, making it the perfect opportunity to have me skip a grade.  However, to complicate matters, my family was moving in October of that year.  My parents were concerned that the school in the new state would be more advanced.  It turns out the opposite was true.  I ended up in a fourth grade classroom in the new state doing work that I’d done several years previously, and I was bored silly.  The principal at that school refused to make any accommodations for me to get educational material that was appropriate for me.  He felt being bored was part of life and that I should learn to deal with it.

As a result, my parents moved me to a private school where I was finally skipped from fourth to sixth grade after extensive testing to make sure it was the right decision.  Academically, it was the right decision for me.  However, it created an initial year of social difficulties for me among  my classmates, many of whom were spoiled rich girls who were great at bullying.  I was the target of a lot of negativity that first year because classmates were jealous that I was a year younger than them.  The next year, our class size doubled, and I was once again able to blend in with the crowd.  I remained at the top of our class intellectually.  I hit puberty a little bit early which actually meant that I blended in more with my classmates than I would have if I’d been in my original grade.  By high school, my closest friends (including my future [ex-] husband) were a year ahead of me in school which meant they were two years older than me.  Emotional maturity was not an issue for my old soul self.

Because of the high school I attended, I eventually entered college with 56 college credit hours already on my transcript.  I graduated magna cum laude with 140 hours that included double majoring and secondary teaching certification at the age of 19 years, 2 months.  When I was doing my student teaching, my high school junior students were only a year or two younger than me, though they had no idea until the semester ended!

As an adult, all of this has faded into the background for the most part.  Many of my friends don't know this information (or didn't until this blog post!) unless they've known me since high school.  As adults, age differences become moot as we associate with people who are our emotional, intellectual, professional, spiritual and social peers rather than our classmates.  Because this has all become a part of my distant past, I debated whether or not to even write this post.  However, as there is information here that can help others who are dealing with gifted children, I decided it was important to share.

I definitely have a brain that works differently that a lot of people’s.  I remember a lot, especially if I’ve read it. My memory is not quite photographic, but I am definitely a visual learner.  In recent years, I’ve become more aware of how much people notice this about me.  One acquaintance who adopted boy-girl twins who were born addicted to crack asked me in a conversation what the statistics were about male versus female rates of subsequent problems resulting from the addiction.  When I told her I had no idea and asked her why she thought I would, her response was, “But Elizabeth, you know everything!”  That’s not at all true, but it made me laugh.  Another online friend paid me the great complement of saying that she wished there was a Google function for my brain.  Some days I wish that too, especially when I can’t find my car keys!

Being intellectually gifted seems like it should make life a slam dunk, but unfortunately, the opposite can be quite true.  The American education system as a whole has become more and more botched over the past decades with its emphasis on standardized testing especially through the “no child left behind” program.  As a result, the schools often teach to the test with teachers having no control over this part of the curriculum they are required to teach.  A lowest common denominator is set for achieving passing test scores on the standardized tests.  If gifted children are way beyond the levels of the testing, they are “held back” from their own individual learning while the rest of the class learns the information on the test.

Another issue surrounding being gifted is jealousy.  I experienced it as a student, and I’ve experienced it when dealing with other parents and teachers as an adult dealing with my own gifted children.  Many people want to believe their child is the most special child in the world.  They insist their children are gifted, too, and they don’t want another child to receive anything more advanced than their children.   These parents are right about one thing:  We are all special.  There’s no question about that.  We just have different abilities.  I sure can’t shoot a layup, and if you want to talk about post-modern theory, my brain goes numb.  I don’t really have the capacity to analyze quantum mechanics, either.  However, that doesn’t mean that I should stop others from doing those things out of my jealousy or inability. 

Each of us have a need to learn on the level that is appropriate.  That is why we have special education systems to help those who need additional assistance.  Our society doesn’t question this need nearly as much as it often refuses to provide advanced educational opportunities for those whose brains work differently in another direction.  Instead, our society often clams up, shuts down, and declares gifted programs to be discriminatory.   Popular articles and political leaders often bemoan that the United States ranks very poorly among other leading nations of the world when it comes to education.  There is a great desire for America to “catch up” with other nations.  Yet ironically, our national education system often doesn’t attempt to work with our best and brightest:  Instead, it holds them back from learning at their best capacity.

So how can our society work to change this?  The first thing to do would be to make appropriate placements for grade level.  Using calendar dates that are carved in stone isn’t it the way to do it.  A child who was born on September 2nd may be far more advanced than one who was born on August 25th, but in Texas, the September 1st birthdate for starting kindergarten is strictly enforced in most districts.  Not only should academic need be taken into account, but emotional readiness should be as well.  Many districts allow parents to “red shirt” their  kids and start them in kindergarten at age 6 rather than 5 for emotional reasons, but the opportunity for some kids to start at age 4 because of advanced emotional abilities doesn’t exist in most places.

The next step is getting rid of the cookie cutter educational system we currently have to focus more on learning that develops intellect rather than one that emphasizes rote memorization and test taking skills.  We’ve come a long way since the nineteenth century education system that focused solely on memorizing lessons, but we still have a long way to go.  Many online programs are also being developed for less expensive education that rely more on multiple choice testing rather than critical thinking skills.  Programs such as these discourage a learning process that engages students in classrooms or online with professors who actually grade essays and interact with their students.  This is a step backward in the intellectual development of our children and our nation.

Third, the development of true gifted and talented programs would help immensely.  The school district I live in has a wonderful GT program that pulls gifted kids out into separate classes for the areas in which they need advanced learning.  The neighboring school district, however, has a GT program that is no more than lip service.  It entitles kids to extra worksheets, but not much else.  At the root of part of this is the ever frustrating lack of adequate funding for public schools.  However, the charter school my children attended for most of grade school managed to meet the needs of kids on all levels of the educational spectrum with far less funding than public schools have.  It can be done: Where there is a will (and adequate curriculum support), there is a way.

It is really important that we support each other no matter what our gifts are.  Some people have intellectual gifts, and others have gifts in other areas.  Regardless of how each of our individual abilities manifests, we should all be given opportunities to develop those gifts without having to face resistance or bullying from others.  It would be wonderful if we lived in a world where each person was loved and supported for being their amazing selves.

© 2014 Green Heart Guidance