Cup Filling

From Playful Parenting, by Lawrence J. Cohen:

About times with kids when "He's just looking for attention" is uttered or thought:

For years, the standard advice has been to ignore such behavior. I don't get that. We don't say, "He keeps asking for food, but I just ignore him; he's only saying that because he's hungry." We don't say, "Your cup is empty, so I'll make sure you don't get a refill." If someone is looking for attention that bad, I figure they must need some attention! If we give them enough of the good kind, they won't be so desperate that they'll settle for the bad kind.

Talents?

I'm reconsidering going back to school to become what I thought I wanted to be when I grew up. (Apparently there will be a lot of job openings in my preferred field within the next 5-10 years, and the increase in technology has changed the job but not negated the need for it. On the other hand, maybe I'm too old to bother with finishing my degrees at this point?)

Anyhow, reminded me of a insightful bit from "Confessions of a Master Jewel Thief," by Bill Mason:

"I think what's actually going on is that childhood is like an allergy test for talent. If you've ever been tested for allergies, you know that the doctor rubs your skin with hundreds of different substances until one of them raises a welt. In the same way, a kid comes across hundreds of opportunities to uncover some latent talent until one of them hits, and then his course in life starts to take on some direction. Sometimes it's obvious, like when a seventh-grader is six feet tall and can dribble a basketball blindfolded with either hand, or a grade-schooler builds a radio out of old washing-machine parts.

Sometimes it's not so obvious, as in my case. I could climb trees like a monkey and take apart all kinds of machines and put them back together; there was little that frightened me and I could keep my mouth shut while listening. But so what? How did these things add up to a career?

It wasn't until I went out and tried to steal something that I realized what my odd collection of skills might be good for."

Sigh. Unfortunately, that doesn't help me decide in my situation...I know I have interest and "talent"...Now I'm up against the calendar. Suggestions?

Intuitive? Maybe Not.

I see over and over examples of how we have let our "intuition" and "common sense" be over run by what the media and others tell us...

From How Weaning Happens, by Diane Bergson, when she writes of primitive societies:

(Note: The name of the society is the !Kung, with an upside-down exclamation mark at the beginning. Since I have no clue how to make one here, I'll use a right-side up one.)

"In the book Childhood, author Melvin Konner tells about reading a passage to a !Kung woman from Dr. Benjamin Spock about the importance of having schedules and ignoring the baby's cries while you work about the house. Dr. Konner explains the mother's reaction: "The !Kung mother looked bemused and disapproving. 'Doesn't he understand he's only a baby, and that's why he cries?' she said. 'You pick him up and comfort him. Later, when he grows older, he will have sense, and he won't cry anymore.'" Dr. Konner adds, "the !Kung bet on maturation - and they have never yet had a child who didn't outgrow crying."

And we consider them "primitive"? Seems like we are the "primitive" ones, at least when we neglect our offspring...

On Choosing A Career

Jerry Spinelli, author of Maniac McGee and many other great children's books, has written his autobiography titled "Knots in My Yo-Yo String." It offers this piece about his childhood of freedom, appropriate for those of you still choosing a career...

In those days I was many whats. A kid can be that. Grown-ups have gone ahead and answered the question: "What shall I be?" They have tossed out all the whats that don't fit and have become just one. Teacher. Truckdriver. Businessperson. But a kid is still becoming. And I, as a kid alone, was free to be just about anything.

So many careers came and went through me: salamander finder, crawfish annoyer, flat-stone creek skipper, cedar chest smeller, railroad car counter, tin can stomper, milkweed blower, mulberry picker, snowball smoother, paper bag popper, steel rail walker, box turtle toucher, dark-sky watcher, best-part saver. They didn't last long, these careers of mine, but flashed into and out of existence like mayflies. But while they employed me, I gave them an honest minute's work and was paid in the satisfactions of curiousity met and a job well done.

Be sure you're trying out plenty of whats.