eQuipped is a site devoted to cyber-safety and designed for parents and educators. It is a good place to start for those who may not feel confident about the internet and keeping kids safe. Please visit eQuipped and be sure to recommend it to friends with children.

Ink, Sweat & Tears chronicles my journey as a writer. That adventure began (in earnest) a few years ago as a novice blogger when I set up Consonance. I’ve made some progress and learned a bit since then. Several manuscripts down the road, I find myself seeking to specialise a bit more. Ink, Sweat & Tears is my writer’s travelogue.

At my high school graduation, one of my happiest realisations was that I would NEVER again have to endure PE and its associated shames. What a joyous day that was! I was too tuckered out to burn my joggers, though, and leaping for joy was way too strenuous.

Now, many years (many, many years) later,  in my couch potato-ly wisdom, I focus on doing the things I’m good at. Like reading.

In my extensive reading I have discovered—to my consternation—that exercise actually has some desirable side-effects. Apparently, one of the benefits of exercise is a mood lift. I am highly sceptical about that one, because it is way beyond my powers of imagination to see how sweat and pain can improve your mood. However, diehard runners and cyclists I know assure me it is true! Go figure.

Scientists point to brain chemicals to explain this phenomenon. Exercise causes the pituitary gland to trigger the release of powerful chemicals called endorphins, the body’s natural pain killer. Their release results in a rush of pleasure, commonly known as a “runner’s high.” I also discovered in my reading that this endorphin release happens only AFTER thirty (that’s 3-0) minutes of strenuous exercise, which probably explains why I’ve never experienced it.

Regular exercise, according to one source, is so good for mood enhancement that some researchers are claiming it is as useful as anti-depressant medication in the treatment of depression in laboratory conditions. Many doctors prescribe both—medication and exercise together. Neuro-researchers are studying the little understood side effect of exercise called neurogenesis and its positive effects on the depressed brain. Amazingly, aerobic exercise actually triggers the growth of new nerve cells called neurons and enhances their connectivity. (So, begging your pardon for my gross oversimplification: Exercise makes important parts of your brain grow denser and function better!)

Here’s the real kicker: the effects of exercise are shown to improve learning and memory in laboratory conditions. We’re talking rats—in little Lycra gym suits and itty-bitty sweat bands. Compared to the couch-potato rats, the gym-junky rats learn better, perform better, and have denser brain tissue. And they’re not cranky or morose either—at least not until they lose their enhanced brains and active lifestyle to the scalpel! Scientists are not suggesting that working out will create geniuses (so put down that barbell, Einstein!) Unfortunately, the accelerated learning plateaus in the exercising lab rats.

The benefits of exercise are not limited to adults. Children’s learning can be enhanced as fine and gross motor skills are developed through play and physical activity. Kids who are fit generally experience better health and higher self-esteem than their unfit peers. Social skills and team work are picked up on the playing field and the playground. At a time in history when teenagers are more sedentary than ever before, the moodiness of today’s teens is legendary. It doesn’t take a scientist to see a crucial link between their lack of activity and adolescent irritability.

Even a confirmed couch potato like me has to concede that the benefits of exercise, sharper memory and better mood , are well worth the sweat. You might not be able to exercise your way to brilliance, but you can definitely exercise yourself happy!

Here is a poll to get you started. If you have further thoughts, I’d appreciate comments.

Ah, the school holidays! Time to relax and take a break from the hub-bub of the school year. Time to go slow in the morning, savour long, late breakfasts…Time to smell the flowers and enjoy laid-back family time…

Unfortunately for parents of teenagers, this is more of dream than the reality of the school holidays.

Although adolescents may spend more hours at home during the holidays, the free time doesn’t always translate into quality family time. Freed from the cruel task master of secondary study, few teens turn to their parents or siblings and sweetly plead to make some family memories (if only!). More likely, as soon as they unplug from school, they replug into their online virtual world. And that’s the last we see of them for a while!

According to one report, teens average a whopping 53 hours a week of media time!  More free time and less supervision over the holidays means the media consumption could easily blow out way beyond 53 hours, leaving teens bleary-eyed and anaemic and their parents exasperated.

Excessive computer usage can lead to a few problems, not the least of which is parental frustration! Small issues include eye strain and irritability, while at the other end of the spectrum is the very scary possibility of computer addiction. Debate rages over the definitions of internet addiction, but thousands of Australian adolescents, particularly those who use chatrooms, online gaming, and social networking, are at risk. Internet addiction is a problem that undermines families and wrecks physical wellbeing.

Increased unsupervised computer time also increases the risk of cyber dangers, such as predators, pornography, and gambling. It is very important to ensure that you have the best possible internet safety tools on your computer.  Remember, though, that no filtering program replaces parental vigilance and supervision.

Now, early in the holidays, it is a very good idea to sit down with your student and have them show you their Facebook profile (and any other commonly used site) so you can monitor the privacy settings and the information they are sharing. Young people should be encouraged NOT to include information such as a photo, their surname, age, address, place of employment, school or sporting teams. Any one of those bits of information—even a photo in a school uniform—can be used by a predator to track down a student. Sadly, such people exist, so we must be vigilant.

Another good idea for managing holiday computer usage is to establish clear boundaries early in the school break. Parents should decide on an acceptable amount of computer usage and enforce it consistently.  If these expectations are spelt out early in the holidays—before any problems occur—children are more likely to accept the rules.

Another good rule is: no computer use when no adult is present. (Take cables to work with you. While this may sound extreme, we would take similar procautions to protect our kids outside of the home.) Of course we all know (but sadly few implement) the “no computer in the bedroom rule.” All the experts list this one as the number one rule of home computing. Put simply, computers in bedrooms spell trouble. Situating the computer in a communal space such as the kitchen or family room might not be convenient, but it certainly the best location to keep young people out of trouble.

Limiting computer usage during the holidays makes good sense: it encourages creativity and activity, and time is freed up for beneficial social experiences.  One family (with teenagers) spent an entire summer break without access to home computers.  The mother reports: “Not only did we survive, we thrived. The kids hated being unplugged at first, but they ended up doing other activities, like reading, swimming, and art. One of the girls even discovered the fun of letter writing, and it’s a habit that continues. She and her grandmother (who lives overseas) enjoy corresponding via snail mail.”

Holiday Computing House Rules:

1. Set the expectation that computing time is earned through chores. Keep it straight forward: 1 hour of work = 1 hour of computer access. That covers access and time limit. No chores, no computer, no exceptions.
2. Have a family computer-free day—or two! Maybe Sundays and Wednesdays are days that the computer stays off.
3. Establish the rule that computing only happens while a parent or trustworthy adult is home. You may want to take the modem cable to work with you.
4. Regularly check your child’s profiles for appropriate privacy settings and ensure no personal information is given. It is your right and responsibility as a parent. Make it a condition of computer use at your home.
5. Visit Australian government sites such as http://www.cybersmart.gov.au/. You can find tips, tools, and resources for keeping your family safe online.

Off-line Options

1. Write: a letter to grandparents, a short story or a fantasy tome, a feature article, a brand new Christmas carol…
2. Move: ride a bike, dance, swim, rock climb….
3. Cook: how about a gingerbread house? Decorate it with your favourite lollies (and take a picture to bring to school in the new year.)
4. Help: find a neighbour in need and do a good deed, visit someone in a nursing home, clean out the garage or your closet…
5.  Explore:  visit the library and check out some books or magazines. Not big on reading? Why not try an audio book? The museum sounds good…

http://thedesignstudiollc.com/yahoo_site_admin.jpg

I heard a business leader speak this week who said a habit that he prizes most in his team members is the tendency to “defend the absent.” This struck me as such an honorable and uncommon emphasis in today’s responsibility-dodging culture.

This man, a top executive in News Corp’s Queensland operations, emphasized personal accountability. He quoted legendary Rugby coach, Wayne Bennett, who said, “If it’s meant to be, it’s up to me.” We are to demand of ourselves commitment to success and acceptance of the responsibility of failure. A person of integrity owns up to a failure instead of conveniently blaming the absent.

Nobody likes to be called to task on a shortcoming or a failure. It is unpleasant business, especially compared to the thrill of revelling in victory. How easy it is to avoid the discomfort of failure by shifting the blame to someone who is not present. “I did my bit; it must have been her.” The subsequent maligning of an absent team member can be brutal, especially when everyone present joins the melee. The result is a communal purging of the guilt and discomfort over failure; the present preserve their precious self-esteems in tact, albeit with a  bitter aftertaste of disloyalty. The toll has been exacted on the character of the absent person .

Before long, the absent person will be called to account and may have to bear the guilt alone. The group’s treachery will come to light. The familiar camaraderie, the old synergy are but lengthening shadows and what remains is the shifting terrain of duplicity. The unfortunate thing is, the damage that is done to the part is reaped by the whole: trust crumbles across the board. A sense of safety is eroded, perhaps irreparably.

Rather than denigrating, a person of integrity defends the absent. Instead of adding to negative speculation, she stands up for the absent person’s performance, reiterating their value to the team, their strengths and successes. This is, after all, how we all would hope we would be treated if we are absent. It is nothing less than “doing unto others as we would have them do unto us.” When it happens, an implicit trust in an organisation and team is reinforced. Defending the absent allows an entire team to feel safe and supported. When people feel valued and defended, they will give 100% commitment and will take ownership.

Smart leaders model accountability and integrity, never speaking ill of a person who is not present and who cannot defend themselves, but rather waiting for an opportunity to speak directly with the person. And if teams move into a blaming mode, smart leaders will redirect the energy back to personal responsibility.

A habit of defending the absent is an important facet of the person of integrity.

 I’ve lost count how many mothers of sons have said to me, “All he says is, ‘I dunno.’”  The evasiveness of boys, I reckon, is an art form.  Granted, it is highly annoying, but the skill with which they dodge engagement with their poor, wistful mums is a thing to behold.  If only they could devote this tactic to good and not evil!

 Then there are the girls—the ones who spend the whole school day giggling with their girlfriends, only to return home and shrug at their mother’s attempts at communication.  They can’t seem to form a complete sentence (that isn’t punctuated with eye rolling) to their parents, but they can spend the entire evening in deep and meaningful conversations (via text or MSN) with their friends. What is happening here? 

 Two things: individuation and brain development.

 The disengagement of young people from their parents is a normal part of growing up.  Pulling away from parents and reinvesting energy into friendships is part of the process called individuation.  The teen’s drive for independence is normal and it’s to be expected.  However, despite what psychologists might tout as normal, it is not ideal.

 Rather than achieving independence, becoming interdependent is the ideal outcome.  Interdependence allows for individuation, the separation of the child from the parent, but it encourages a healthy consultation with parents.  In other words, they separate from their parents and the relationship remains in tact and healthy. 

 As much as adolescents crave and seek after freedom, they require input from trustworthy sources.  Parents need to find a way to engage with their teen without hindering their thrust for independence.  Why?  Because their kids need more, not less, input.

 Kids require more parental input because of their brain development.  Previous understanding of brain development believed the brain was fully intact at age 4; however, recent findings by neurologists have shown that the human brain continues developing all the way to 20 years of age or more.  Scientists now understand that this growth and development of the brain from age 15 to 21 is crucial. 

 The frontal lobes, which are responsible for planning, forethought, impulse control and delay of gratification, decrease in bulk during these years. This development is described as “pruning.”  In other words the brain is paring down in the short-term to make it more efficient in the long-run. While the frontal lobes are under reconstruction, the limbic system, responsible for emotional processing, is dominant.  Unfortunately, the two brain centres do not communicate particularly well, which explains some of the erratic, bewildering adolescent behaviour that some of them engage in.

 Take risky behaviour, such as reckless driving, fighting and other forms of thrill-seeking. Scientists believe that this neural pruning in the frontal lobes may be partly responsible for some adolescents’ tendency towards risk-taking behaviour.  Due to the fact that there are fewer neurons firing in their frontal lobes and their brain’s emotional centre is raging, their judgement can be fairly poor.  Rather than requiring less guidance from parents at this stage of life, they actually require more.

 How parents provide that guidance is the crucial factor.  Lecturing is a no-no. (Think back to your own adolescence and listening to your father drone on and on.  If that doesn’t convince you not to lecture, note your teen’s amazing ability to tune out!  They are like crocodiles, equipped with an eye-glazing apparatus.)

 A more productive approach is to ask questions to draw out the wisdom you’ve instilled over the years.  One key is to listen without judging or interrupting.  Another is to reflect the emotional content of what they say or do and summarize.  This indicates that you are really listening, which they believe you to be incapable of.

 How DO you open an adolescent?  With love and respect, and heaps of patience.

Ten Tips for Talking to Your Teen  

1. Do NOT lecture.
2. Timing is important: do not try to engage while emotions (theirs or yours) are raging.
3. Ask questions (open ended ones, not Yes-No questions)
4. Adopt a neutral, “curious” tone. (Not suspicious, not snooping, not judgemental)
5. Focus on emotional responses, as well as content.  Notice or imagine aloud how they might feel about something. “That must be frustrating for you.”
6. No interrupting.
7. Give your full attention.
8. Keep trying, even if all of the above tips haven’t worked yet.
9. Allow them the possibility of withdrawal or silence without taking it personally.  “You seem to need some space.  That’s fine.  I’m here when you’re ready.”  This kind of respect earns you big points with teens.
10. Do NOT lecture. 

 This love came in the form of a dog from the animal shelter.  He was a German Shorthaired Pointer, a breed my parents knew and appreciated.  Sid, as the shelter people had dubbed him, was thin and wary.  It was apparent his previous existence had been hard, signs of both neglect and cruelty demonstrated by his poor physical state and slinking gate.  He clearly was not young, but no one could say how old he was.

 When my parents saw Sid, they knew he was the dog for them.  Even the name beckoned: Sidney, which they changed to Sydney in honour of the family’s Aussie links, connected with them.  Syd’s life of neglect was over.  He entered my parent’s lives and was exposed to humans who were loving and decent.  The shift to regular food and exercise under my parents’ care soon brought Syd around, physically and emotionally.  His coat, once dull, became shiny; his ribs and hips disappeared behind healthy flesh.  Even his wary nature  dissipated as he relearned that humans can be kind and reliable. Syd’s former existence as a neglected pet was more than redeemed by my parents’ affection.  

He was steadfast, old Syd.  He could set a clock to his stomach and bowels.  At a quarter to five in the evening, Syd would start “talking,” a low warbling moan, to make sure everyone was aware of the hour.  At five, when my parents started preparing their cocktails, Syd would “dance,” prancing around with excitement that dinner was coming.  The antics were amusing not only because of their consistency and animation, but also because for every other hour of the day, Syd was  such a dignified and subdued creature, respectably moving through his day like a kind, old gentleman at a ritzy club, alternating between sociability and naps.  Food quite literally turned him on, and he ate with gusto.  His appreciation made you feel like a champion, like you were doing something honourable when you set out his dish.

 I’m grateful to Syd for enriching my parents’ lives.  One thing is sure: Syd will be sorely missed.

It’s been said that if fish were scientists, the last thing they would discover is water.  Similarly, if a fish was asked if his nose was wet, would he even know what wet meant?  One’s own culture often inhibits understanding of the most obvious elements of culture.

I am an American Ex-pat, living in Australia.  There are many things about my homeland that I could not appreciate until I’d lived overseas long enough to dissociate culturally.  On a recent trip home within the first hour of re-entry I was instantly reacquainted with the high stress levels of my country of birth.

I have a theory that whoever created the movie Blade Runner must have spent a lot of time at LAX.  The airport’s constant drone of multilingual announcements and warnings over the P.A. system, the jostling parade of jet-lagged foreign nationals, and the unspoken hypervigilance all harken to the movie’s futuristic vision of Los Angeles. For a movie made over 20 years ago, it portrayed an amazingly accurate likeness of LA, at least of its airport.

Banners on the walls proclaimed “Welcome to The United States of America,” but there was something incongruent and foreboding in the Customs processing hall.  Most likely it was the ominous bank of automated defibrillators mounted on the walls. “The Department of Homeland Security welcomes you to America!  Let us stamp your passport, scare you to death, and reboot your heart.  It’s all part of the service!”  

Above the customs officials’ booths was a huge signboard that flashed not useful customs information but rather banal advertisements of its ability to display moving casino-like messages and images—”Look, we can display hearts, diamonds, spades and clubs!”  It was conspicuous and unnerving and downright odd.  What did it mean?   Should I be worried?  Is this really America, leader of the free world, or a set on Smile, You’re On Candid Camera?

Outside on the sidewalk, there was a similar combination of unsettling surrealism and palpable urgency.  On our way to terminal one, we walked past six law enforcement officers who were standing around a sedate but cheerful handcuffed man.  Needing to cross the five lanes of traffic, we waited until the crossing light eventually signaled clearance.  Then it immediately started to countdown, allowing fifteen seconds to complete the traverse.  I felt bullied by that signal and its nagging bleeps: “Hurry up–or else,” it menaced.

Less than an hour on home soil, and my stress levels were threatening to escalate.  My question is do these insidious pressures play on all citizens?  I imagine most Americans are  unconscious of these stressors, like fish who are unaware of their watery environment. As an ex-pat who has come home, I can observe that America the land of the free, but the home of the harassed.

Various religions have their own rites of passage.  Jews have a Bar or Bat Mitzvah, after which the young person is permitted to read from the Torah in synagogue.  Buddhists in Myanmar have a Poy Sang Long, when boys commit to a stint as a Buddhist monk. Some Christian denominations hold infant baptism, first communion, and confirmation.  All of these ceremonies are familiar markers of childhood milestones.

Some cultures’ rites of passage appear bizarre to western sensibilities.  Scarification is one such example.  Some Aborigines and Papua New Guineans endure the painful process of having their skin cut and scarred at the end of adolescence to signify their transition into adulthood. Young Massai males are circumcised in a mass ceremony, and then sent into the wilderness to survive for two years.  Hindu widows for centuries were pressured to immolate themselves on their husband’s funeral pyre, in a now outlawed practice called sati.  To our western way of thinking, these practices are ordeals that smack of abuse and violation.  So what is positive about rites of passage?

A rite of passage marks the transition from one social status to another.  Generally rites of passage contain three elements: separation, liminality or transition, and reincorporation. A wedding, for example, marks the change from single to married, and it includes separation (the giving of the bride), transition (the service where the couple undergoes spiritual and/or legal unification) and the reincorporation (the announcement to the community of man and wife and a celebration with them.)  

Each stage of the rite of passage has an important function.  Separation signals closure of one phase of life, not only to the initiate, but also to his or her family and the community. Liminality enhances the ambiguity of the change, often providing a challenge to the young person’s inner resources.  In this “space between,” the young person discovers or proves he or she is ready for and worthy of a new status.  Reincorporation reinforces the change, helping to establish it firmly in the person’s identity.  People now interact with him or her with new expectations and respect. 

Even in those practices which westerners might deem unsavoury or cruel, the initiates generally go through the process with positive outcomes.  One of the most significant results for the young person is a sense of belonging and connectedness to their community.  Another is a sense of affirmation of their gender identity. Young Native Americans who undergo a rite of passage confirm their allegiance to their people and derive satisfaction and meaning from the rituals. These communities benefit in a myriad of ways from young men and women who feel included and validated at such a vital transition in their lives.

In most modern, western societies, adolescents generally do not benefit from a rite of passage to mark their transition into adulthood.  They miss out on a clear crossing over, during which they can shed childish ways and adopt mature responsibility.  Validation of their identity, competence, and sexuality is not extended, but rather merely assumed.  The default rites of passage, such as schoolies, obtaining a driving license, or registering to vote, lack the affirming tone of a rite. Turning 18 means the young person gains a new freedom of choice—to consume alcohol or to get tattooed, but the responsibility to manage that freedom is not addressed.  No wonder there are so many confused, disenfranchised young people in modern western society.

Churches, schools, and young people’s organisations can address this failure in modern, western society.  Our young people will benefit and our communities will too.

www.cathycrowe.com

Intrepid? Hardly– I turn green merely watching movies of other people riding on a bus. (Diesel fumes—gag!) I was the child who threw up twelve times on the 6-hour car ride to Ocean City, nearly breaking my father’s childhood record for the same trip. Most car rides involved pinning a barf bag to my shirt, just in case. It wasn’t something I could help, yet I (rightfully) incurred the hatred of many a friend’s parent, after I’d “decorated” their car. I’d like to know how I came up with the bright idea to do all that travel in the first place.

After who knows how long, I awoke to find a squat Sardinian man leaning over me, staring into my face. The unsettling sensation of his garlicky breath on my brow caused me to jump to my feet, despite my weakness. He asked me if I was feeling all right. His croaky Popeyesque voice was almost as disturbing as the sooty blackheads that pock-pitted his nose. “I’ve been seasick all night. I just need some air,” I hastily replied as I headed for the door to put some distance between him and me.

I walked outside into the wild wind. Its coolness shocked some clarity back into my fuzzy head—just enough to notice the little monster had followed me outside. I sat down despondently, with the sinking awareness that out in the howling wind in the middle of the night away from every other human on the ferry, there was no one who could help me if I needed it. I tried to look confident as I reviewed my escape options…which were nonexistent. He could toss me into the inky Mediterranean if he wanted and no one would notice my disappearance for several days. As I formulated the dire appraisal of my situation, his squeaking voice intruded into my thoughts.

“Da me un bacetto, signorina.” Give me a kiss, little lady.

Experiencing a healing of near Biblical proportions, I stood up and replied—in perfect Italian—”My mother told me never to kiss strange men.” (Where did that come from? I was sure she’d never said that.) I darted towards the entrance to the foyer. The sooty-pored sailor from hell lunged to block my get away, but being a good two feet taller than him, I had the upper hand. I kneed him in the groin (I could have nailed that nasty studded nose if I had wanted), shoved him against a wall and gave him a hearty New York salute (and a few choice English words!) By the time I got to my assigned seat in the passenger section, I had no symptoms of seasickness or dehydration. The truly miraculous part is that despite the adrenalin I slept until we arrived in Genoa.

Maybe that does count as intrepid…