No Caged Bird Here

Captured

Trapped

A cage of my own doing

Unintentional but consistent

Locking the door behind me

After climbing into the enclosure day in and day out

Holding on to the key so tight

The key to let myself be free

I do it to myself

Believing all the negative thrown my way

Nails securing the cage door shut

Too short

Too old

Too fat

Too much of all that is bad

And not enough pieces of things that are good

But not enough for who?  

For them?

Who says?

Stop believing the lies

Stop being your own warden

You hold the key

The key to be free

To embrace the You and to be fine with the Me

Step out of the cage of your own self-doubt

Throw away the key

Swallow it if you have to

Then exhale and release.

Teach Them Well by Andrea

Being a noticer is a key role of every adult involved in the life of a child.  To aid them in growing into the people they were created to be, we have to become students of our children.  We must really see them.  We have to pay attention to their feelings, actions, what they say and don’t say.  We have to watch their facial expressions and body language when they are with us and as they interact with the world around them.  We need to look for patterns that reveal their joys and strengths, the situations that bring out caution and full-fledged fear, how they interact with loved ones, friends and strangers.  What makes them angry and what makes them sad.  We must do this because they are new on this planet.  They have never grown up before.  How do they know how to be people who make the world more interesting, safe and good. They are learning as they go, and it is our responsibility to teach them how we want them to be (at least until they are able to take responsibility for themselves).  Though they are sentient beings with inherent temperaments, personalities and predispositions, children show up in the world influenced by who we have shown them to be, both directly and indirectly.  We have to know them to help them begin to know themselves.

When we adults in charge of nurturing kids do not study their God-given qualities and guide them toward self-awareness and participation in the moral, social, and familial structures and value-systems of their communities, we forfeit the right to lament and woe about their attitudes, actions and moods.

Recently, I heard a parent remark that her young child is mean. I asked if she was okay with that.  When she answered no, I offered that it was not a given that any child has to be mean.  Her parents can teach her to think and act more kindly now than they will be able to in about 10 more years.  This does not dishonor the child’s natural temperament.  Maybe she is more serious, less gregarious, than some other kids.  She can still be kind.  Maybe she is shy around people she doesn’t know well, and it manifests itself as aggression.  She can still learn to manage anxiety and treat others the way she might expect to be treated. All of these are things the adults in her life are responsible for showing her.  They can’t make her be kind, but they can surely teach it, model it and expect it.  Children are human beings just like us, never perfect, sometimes given to negative actions, attitudes and moods.  That’s not a reason to leave them unto themselves to learn how to be human.  And most children come around eventually if we are consistent about teaching them how to be rather than simply how to behave.

So rather than judging and labeling their behavior, let’s cultivate more curiosity about what we see by asking better questions. For example, when we ask “Why is this child so mean?”, our brains will automatically come up with answers that make sense- answers which justifies the question.  Her mom is mean, too. She has always been this way. She is allowed to do and say whatever she wants.  Her parents never tell her no so she is entitled. Notice, however, none of these offer any help in improving the circumstances.  If instead we ask,  “How can I help this child learn to speak more respectfully?”, your brain will automatically move into problem-solving mode.  This unlocks the wisdom you have about the child and how you want the child’s life to work.  (The chart below gives more examples of questions that might better serve our children.)

As we strive to lead future generations of people who will make our world a better place, let's be visionaries who are intentional, empathic and curious.  

See the good in the people we're raising as we aim to raise good people!

-Andrea

The questions on the right side of the table are closed and have an inherent negative belief woven into them. Our brains will automatically go to work looking for the answers which prove the belief to be true.  Asking the questions on the left side instead is inherently more empowering and promotes possibilities for growth and change. 

The better the question, the better the answer.  

Ask This...	Not That...
How can I help her learn XYZ?	Why can’t she learn XYZ?
What could I do to help/ to teach him be more or less ______?	Why is this child like this?
What do I know about this child? What are her strengths, and how can I promote those?	Why isn’t she like So and So?
What can I teach this child to help him learn more self-control/ self-management?	Why is this child out-of-control?  Why does this child act like this?
What does this child need right now?  How can I help her to be successful in this moment? The next time ____ happens?	What is wrong with this child?
She can do __________, so how can I help her learn to do _________?	She can’t do ____________.
What have I noticed bringing this child joy? (peace, pride, success etc.)	Why is this child so angry? (melancholy, anxious etc.)
What will help this child be able to ______? (take turns, make friends, be kind, work hard, stay focused etc.)	Why is this child having such a hard time ______? (taking turns, making friends, being kind, working hard, staying focused etc.)
What am I doing for this child to help him or her to be/ to do ________?	Am I doing the right thing for this child?
How can I provide what the child needs and still keep his and the family’s name and dignity in tact?	Why does this child not have _______? (possession or resource)
What am I teaching this child?	What is this child being taught by So & So, at home, at school etc? Why does this child not know ___?

-Andrea

Stages

No one told me about this stage in life.  The one where your heart kind of swells with pride, practically explodes with love, and then also breaks slowly all at the same time.  No one talks about that. The stage when your children start moving from the “Mom, hug me! Hold me!” Stage, to the “I need my space.”

When I first got pregnant, I heard all about the morning sickness possibilities.  I was given advice about making sure to walk a lot and the right things to eat and foods to avoid.  So I prepared and I planned. Finally the moment comes and I am given this absolutely perfect baby in my arms.  My life before that moment was completely forgotten. Nothing else mattered looking into those eyes.

The advice follows me with the birth of my babes.   A longer list of do’s and don'ts. With every stage of the younger years, terrible two’s, potty training, starting school, I heard advice.  Everyone had opinions, and in a way it made me feel better because it helped navigate my uncharted ocean. I could always see land, so I was grounded even when the seas got rocky.  No one told me though, about the letting go bit. No one told me about what to do when my kids start growing up and maybe don’t need me quite as much as they used to. No one warned me about that mix of emotions.  The hurt for myself, excitement for them and pride in them. Maybe because it’s different for everyone. Or maybe because it’s truly hard to explain all the emotion or give advice for this stage. You just have to experience it.  

The closing of the school year, floods our facebook pages with graduation caps and gowns.  Faces of proud mommas and daddy’s, and hope in the eyes of their children. Little ones moving from the pond of elementary school diving into a new place with much bigger fish.  Lots of firsts come with the closing of one chapter and the beginning of another. As a parent, it’s blessing to be a part of every stage. It’s been an even bigger blessing to have a team of people stand by you when any amount of words or advice doesn’t really help.

As my son enters high school next year, and my daughter middle school, I feel a mixture of emotions.  These are uncharted waters. I no longer truly control the direction of the boat. I now have two co-captains with opinions and dreams, and they to want to sail their own boat.  They have their own path to explore and conquer. I will be okay to sail beside them. Maybe even sometimes behind them. I have no other choice. They know I will be there when they need me, just like I know I have people to pick me up when I’m struggling, or a friendly ear for listening.  The sea is too big to handle alone after all.

~Esmeralda

Fine

“I’m fine” is a  phrase I use regularly.  More often than not it’s what comes out of my mouth when my Friends or family ask how I’m doing.  It is a comfortable, safe response, and the least complicated. It isn’t a lie. Most times I am fine.   Regardless, one Monday morning when I was rushed and stressed, and not fully recovered from the weekend a friend asked me how I was doing.  I said fine with a smile of course, and then we shut our portable doors to start our day. I stayed in that same spot near the door for a bit, as I contemplated how much I actually claim to be fine.  It got me thinking, was I really fine? Why do those words just spill off my tongue so easily without any thought. What am I trying to communicate to others and to myself? I decided to further investigate so I googled the definition of the word I claimed to be so many times a day.  One definition of fine was: to be very well, in a satisfactory manner.  Doesn’t sound bad. It’s not negative.  There is no emotion or umph behind it though.  It just is. The second definition, however was: high quality.  I liked the sound of that. Sounded better than satisfactory. I continued my search with some synonyms.  First-class, first-rate, great, exceptional, splendid, exquisite, superb.   Wow!  They all had a powerful ring to them more so than the fine I was used to referring to.  When I used my old kind of fine, I felt it. I felt satisfactory. I was going through the motions of the day.   Counting the minutes, not the moments. Why just be satisfactory when we can be superb? Why not exquisite or splendid?  

In our busy day to day of living life, the tasks can be mundane at times if we let them.  We don’t have to though. From now on, when and if I use my favorite phrase, it won’t just mean satisfactory.  My hope is that when someone asks how you are doing, you can smile and answer with emotion and honesty, I’m fine.  

Entries from the Encyclopedia of Me, Volumes J-S

By Andrea

J is for Jesus

All my life I had known about Jesus.  I heard about him from my mother, grandmother and great grandmother. I learned about his life in weekly Sunday school lessons and by participating in vacation Bible school during the summers. Yet it was not until 1997 did I seek sincerely to know Jesus. I prayed about questions of why my knowledge of him was not transformative as others claimed it was for them. So I studied the Bible, read books and listened to great teachers to find out who he is, why he is important and how he could change lives. The Bible teaches “seek and you will find” and that's exactly what happened. On August 17, 1997, I committed my whole heart to walking in his ways.  Seeking, believing, repenting and being baptized were just the first steps of this lifelong journey toward becoming a Christian.  Sometimes I stumble along the path.  Yet the beauty of my relationship with Jesus versus my knowledge of Jesus is I know he is with me.  He leads. I follow.  I go off track.  He brings me back- sometimes gently guiding me by the hand, sometimes by the neck with his shepherd’s crook.  Always with wisdom, true love, mercy and grace.

K is for Kai

In October, my heart was stolen by the world’s most beautiful baby boy, Kai Alexander, and I have not been the same since.  I am now one of those grandmothers.  At the most casual query as to his well-being, I whip out my cell phone to show him off. One or two will not do, I must show ALL of the pictures. People are so kind. They yield to my enthusiasm. l used to check Facebook when I had a minute to play on my phone.  Now, I stare at my baby’s little cherub face. He has the wisest eyes, a sight I have never seen on any other baby.  He’s got the cutest little nose and elfin chin.  All I want to do is kiss his sweet head full of big soft curls and tell stories or sing songs to him.  When he looks intently into my face, hope makes sense.

L is for Lexus

Anyone who knows me well will be able to tell you I'm not very much into name brand anything. I like high quality products, and I will pay for it, but I also love a good bargain as much as the next girl. When it comes to the car of my dreams, however, I would throw out all of my pragmatism, stop my eye-rolling at American consumerism and brand fandom. I have no real idea when this adoration started, but it shall not be assuaged until a milk-white ES 350 belongs to me. I've been an adult making money for a long time now, but I've yet to choose and purchase a car for myself. I think a Lexus would make a great first car for a middle-aged lady.

M is for Mommy

I am 42 years old, and I still call my mother “Mommy”.  So do my siblings.  My husband and his brothers still refer to their late mother as such.  We are not the only ones. Every black person I know, who grew up calling their mother “Mommy” uses that moniker always- even as adults.  During a conversation a few years ago,  a friend curiously said “Wow, you still call your mother mommy.”  I had never thought about it before.  Was this unusual? So I started to pay attention to how people referr to their parents, moms in particular. I asked people of other communities and found if they had used the term Mommy at all, they had outgrown it somewhere in the preteen years and switched to Mom or Mother.  We tend to view the world from our experience and where I’m from, a predominantly black community, almost everyone calls their mother Mommy (Ma is probably the second most popular).  I actually cannot think of a black person who addresses his or her mother as “Mom.”  Nonetheless, my mommy by any other name would be just as wonderful!

N is for Noni

We have already started teaching baby Kai to call me Noni and his grandpa, Pop. The latter will be easier because that's what our son calls his father. Sometimes, I slip up when talking to the baby and refer to myself as granny. I guess that comes more naturally to me because that's what we taught our kids to say to their grandmothers. I'm just too young to be called Granny. Noni just sounds cooler, more hipster. Don't you agree?

O is for Optimism

My uncle, Herman, likes to tell the story of seeing me for the first time as an infant. He recounts that my mother opened the door to her New York apartment with me in her arms and as soon he looked down at me, my face spread with the biggest gummy grin. He always ends the story with “you've always been my happy, positive Punky!” In the world of personality theories, I'm a sanguine. Easygoing, optimistic, looking for the good.  I've had moments in the past when I wished God had given me a different personality. I thought I wanted to be more serious, more ambitious, more demanding or more take charge. Thank goodness God saw fit not to grant that wish. The older I get, the more I get me. My optimism is probably the thing I like most about myself.

Q is for Quiet

It is quite odd that someone as gregarious and extroverted as I am longs for and looks forward to quiet. I raised four children and work as an elementary school teacher. Maybe it's not so odd now that I think about it.

R is for Rest

My motto used to be “We can rest when we get to heaven!” For the first 40 years of my life I was the Energizer Bunny. I lived at the speed of right now, right fast. By God's grace, I started questioning the wisdom and effectiveness (or lack thereof) of my pace and prayed to see the value of rest. In the Old Testament, the Sabbath day was established for the Jews and is still practiced today. Apparently, they needed rest. I bet the same is true for the rest of us, too. On the 7th day of creation, God rested. If he rested though he does have the whole world in his hands, I had to ask what's my excuse? Rest. It is good.

S is for siblings

Brother-sister-brother. The children of my mother. I am the oldest by eight, eleven and sixteen years. This means I was practically grown by the time they were becoming cool kids. My little brother used to answer me “Yes or No, ma’am” because he grew up with my kids and that is the required response for them. It was too weird coming from my little brother so I had put a stop to that.  They spent every summer with me and my family as they were growing up. Those times were special to me then, but the memories are more special now that they are all grown. We don't spend nearly as much time together as we did back then. I miss them and wish we weren't so far apart, in distance and time.

Introducing Me in ABCs -Part 1

A

A woman

A mother

A person

A me

A…which means one.  I am unique and it is ok to admit that.  It isn’t conceited or against the rules.  There is only one of me and there is only one of you.  

Books

I have my own library.  A wall full of books.  Children’s books, self-help books. Books I have read several times, and books I aspire to read.  I love books.  I’m hoping to one day see my name on the spine of a book in my library.

Cha cha

A nickname.  My nickname.  That just so happened to become my actual name for the majority of my early educational years.   The paperwork to be filled out was pretty straightforward. 

“Child’s first name-Esmeralda”

“Middle name”- left blank because I have no middle name, which always left me feeling slightly inadequate and incomplete.

“Last name-Villa”

Easy enough.  Then came the next question…

“Does your child go by another name?” 

Well, yes.  As a matter of fact I did.  
When I was born, my grandmother used to take care of my cousins and I.  My mom and dad were still in college, and luckily my grandmother made herself available to watch us.  I would go down for a nap, and my grandmother would tell my two cousins, who were slightly older to let the baby sleep.  Let the “muchachita,” little girl, sleep.  My cousins being little didn’t quite get the muchachita part all the way out, so it was shortened to chachita.  Which ended up being Cha cha, and it ended up on the little line as my mom registered me for kindergarten as the other name I happen to go by.  Quite a lot easier to say and spell than Esmeralda, so this became my name throughout elementary and all through my junior year in high school.   My friends from Colorado actually still refer to me as Cha cha.

Coffee

I drink coffee.  I love it.  It doesn’t have to be Starbucks contrary to the beliefs of many. (Although I do prefer my skinny vanilla latte)  I take my sips slow and steady.  Savoring every little drop.  When my cup is empty I am actually sad.  Like an actual feeling of sadness courses through my body.  Its more than just a little pick me up.   It’s soothing and calming.  It’s conversation around my grandmother’s table with the most exceptional women I know.  It’s stories, and history.  It’s love. 

Daniel

“So there is this boy, he kind of stole my heart.  He calls me mom.”  Kind of is an understatement.  From the moment he was born, my heart has been on my sleeve.  I am so proud of the young man he is becoming.  I love our conversations, and his hugs.  He will always be my baby, even though he is taller than me now.

Esmeralda

I become Esmeralda again when I moved to Texas.  My family and I moved the summer before my senior year in high school.  I was excited and nervous.  I knew things would be different starting high school my senior year as the new girl.  I also knew I did not want to be Cha cha in Texas.  I wanted to use my actual name.  The name I would write on my papers, and the name I would use to introduce myself would be my name, not a nickname.

Food

I like to eat.  I love food.   Not sure what else there is to say but that.

God

God is good.  All the time.

All the time.  God is good.

I could not make it through my day without Him.

Hernandez Women

I have always said that if I ever have any doubt of God’s love for me, I need only to look at the family I was blessed enough to be born into.   I have been loved by seven of the most giving and precious women.  My grandmother, mother, and five aunts.  I cannot describe how influential they have been for me, or begin to express all the gratitude and love I have for them.  I admire and respect each one.  They are by far the strongest, most God-fearing women I know.

~Esmeralda