Last night, as Bella played in her own little imaginary world with her sister at the foot of my bed, I overheard her singing God is great, God is good, let us thank him for our food. “Where did you learn that?” I asked her. “At school,” she replied nonchalantly, “we do it every day before we go to lunch.” A couple of questions later and I’m informed – with only one week of this school year left – that her teachers have lead her class in that prayer every single day since the very beginning.

I was floored – I had no idea this was happening. I didn’t know what to do, what to say. I couldn’t believe it – her teacher is a good friend of mine, and we’ve discussed my Atheism and the fact that religion is not present in my home before. My plan is to discuss various religions and deities with my children when I believe they are old enough to form their own opinions and follow their own paths, whatever those are. The small talks we’ve had regarding God in the past were brief and diplomatic. Bella has no idea that I’m an Atheist or what it means, just like she doesn’t know anything about Christianity or Buddhism or anything else.

This morning I went to the school. I looked for Bella’s teacher, but there was a substitute for the first half of the day. The principal, noticing that I obviously was upset (but not over this: my mom accidentally hit Ari with the back door just before we’d left home and I needed to get her to her pediatrician immediately because she had a bloody mouth and loose tooth), called me into her office. I explained to her what I had found out and that I couldn’t believe that it was happening in a public school. I told her that I was an Atheist and didn’t approve of anyone even mentioning religion to my child when she was at school, or overstepping their bounds as an instructor. She nodded at me, not saying anything until I was finished. She then wrote my name on a piece of paper and said that she’d speak with my daughter’s teacher. I was not convinced – Bella has 2$ stolen from her a few weeks ago and the principal did nothing about it, but did the same patronizing nodding.

On my way out I ran into my daughter’s teacher’s assistant (TA). I told her what I’d discovered, and that I’d talked to the principal about it, and also that my intentions were not to get anyone in trouble. She didn’t say much (I didn’t expect her to, her being a preacher’s wife), other than that she needed to clock in for the day, and I went about rushing to get Ari to the doctor. The TA called back to me as I approached the parking lot: “We’ll just have her step out when we do it.” With all that was on my mind, that statement didn’t hit me until I was already in the car.

I called Bella’s teacher’s cellphone and left her a message – I wanted to prepare her for anything she walked into that day, just in case the principal did take this seriously and talk to her. In the afternoon, I picked Bella up from school and spoke with her teacher, who was more than understanding and contrite, as I hoped and expected her to be. It usually wasn’t her that led the children in prayer – most of the time she wasn’t even in the classroom when they were preparing and leaving for their lunch period. She informed me that it was common in the school and that many of the other teachers led their students in prayer as well, and it was something that was going on before she started teaching there.  She wasn’t aware that it was unconstitutional/illegal in our state as it was so common. The principal had said nothing to her.

I thanked her for being understanding, and I told her that while I wasn’t going to let this go, I didn’t want it to negatively affect her. I looked for the principal as I was leaving, but didn’t find her. The TA, who was standing outside the school saw me but didn’t make eye contact with me, and I didn’t approach her. I was pretty pissed off – it wouldn’t have done much good for me to talk to her. When I got home, I called the Superintendent of the school district and left a message with his assistant.

Bella was made to stand in the hallway alone outside of her classroom while they prayed today. And I am livid.  She was ostracized because of the  illegal actions of an adult. My daughter was punished because someone infringed upon her constitutional rights, and she has no idea why. I need to explain this to her, but I don’t have any idea where to start.

I want to say that I cannot believe I am having to deal with this. I want to say that I’m surprised that this is quietly accepted. I’m not. It doesn’t surprise me one bit. This is a small town in North Carolina; what else would I expect?

These teachers at this school are indeed overstepping their bounds. Their jobs are to teach children to read, write and count, not to praise a God they might not have any knowledge or understanding of. It’s easy to say “well if Bella doesn’t want to say it, tell her she doesn’t have to” but that’s unfair. What is she supposed to do? She’s six years old, and so are her classmates – of course they are going to do what they told. The prayer is little more than a poem to them, and they have no reason to believe that they are allowed to refuse a teacher’s instructions. I feel like these children are being coerced and indoctrinated by making this small prayer a part of their daily routine. On top of that, to make a child – a child whose parent was willing to stand up and say “dude this is SO not okay!” – stand outside; to make it obvious that she is different, her family is different, that something is “off” about her in front of her peers… that is even more not okay. I will not stand back and let this slide.  I cannot.

What do I want? I want the teachers at my daughter’s elementary school – the entire school district, actually – formally reminded that prayer in schools is illegal and unconstitutional, and will not be tolerated. I want to ensure that the next time something like this happens the culprit will  face a serious reprimand. I don’t want anyone to lose their job over this – not yet at least. It depends on how this is handled.

We’ll see.

Update {06.03.10}:

It’s a bit before 1pm here and I just returned home from the school district’s administrative office, where I spoke with a very helpful, very nice administrator there. First though, I should say that I went to my daughter’s school for lunch and they did not say prayer today in her classroom. I spoke with her teacher who told me that the principal finally contacted her about it last night, informing her that I had taken it to a higher level (meaning to the superintendent), and that the media was getting involved (thanks, Twitter!). Today, the teacher apologized to Bella and I and made sure that Bella knew she still loved her and I assured her that I in no way wanted to cost her her job over this and if anyone was reprimanded, it should have been the principal. I definitely won’t sit back and let all of the blame fall on her, because I believe that the principal has been turning a blind eye to this sort of unconstitutional behavior for a long time.

Had the principal left her office at 7:45am yesterday morning after I’d spoken with her, and headed right into my daughters class to inform them that this was not supposed to be happening, Bella would never had been placed outside of the classroom. Instead, she didn’t. She didn’t even do it when the school day was over – from what I understand, she didn’t do anything at all until her bosses called her about it. Unacceptable.

I also spoke with the TA, who apologized and told me that she was also unaware that it wasn’t allowed, since it was common practice in the classrooms the entire 18 years she’s been working there. I believe her, most definitely, as my 13 year old sister told me last night that when she attended the elementary school my Bella now attends, she was made to say the same “blessing” before lunch daily as well. The TA told me that she only put Bella outside because she thought I didn’t want her to participate, and thought that to be a solution that wouldn’t disrupt the other children’s days, and if she’d known that it wasn’t allowed they just wouldn’t have done it. Again, to me, it shows a lack of action on the principal’s part. If she’d just done her job, with haste, this could have been over as soon as it started.

I never received a reply from the superintendent’s office, which bothered me mainly because their public relations department took the time to contact those who emailed and called them after learning of this situation. So…they have time to respond to them, but not to me? Alright. So I went to the district offices.

The woman I spoke with had caught wind of this situation already. She told me that she knew about it, and that she knew the PR guy had been fielding phone calls and emails over it all morning. She took notes, she asked questions, she – unlike my daughter’s principal – made me feel like she was not only taking me seriously, but that she cared. She told me that she understood why I was upset and that she’d speak to the superintendent this afternoon and suspected that he’d have a very “strong conversation” with my daughter’s principal. I informed her that I was completely satisfied with the efforts the teachers had made to set this right by refraining from prayer and also apologizing, but not with the principal. I told her that because this was bigger than just my daughter’s classroom and potentially something that many students were being subjected to, I hoped that something would happen to remind the teachers and instructors that prayer in schools will not be tolerated. I should be hearing from her this afternoon sometime, after she’s spoken with both the principal and the superintendent.

So, that’s where I’m at now. I still maintain that I don’t want anyone to lose their job over this – things are rough out there, and I don’t believe anyone meant my child or me any harm. But, I do think that some sort of announcement or something should happen to ensure that this doesn’t happen again, and that the principal did not handle this correctly at all.

Update #2 {06.03.10}:

I spoke with the Assistant Superintendent of the school district a short while ago. He told me that they’d completed their investigation: he’d met personally with the principal and teachers, issued letters of warning, and scheduled a school wide staff meeting for this afternoon so that all teachers would be reminded/informed of the policies and laws against prayer in schools. He apologized to me, thanked me for bringing it to the school board’s attention and being proactive, and also assured me that this would not happen again. I am satisfied with this resolution, and I’m very happy with the way that my county’s school administration board dealt with this problem: quickly and efficiently. So, barring any unforeseen circumstances, or anyone treating Bella differently, etc – I’m declaring victory!

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Yesterday, as soon as Bella got off the bus and started trudging across the road, I knew from the look on her face that something was wrong. Not seriously wrong but “oh hell, begin the whining in three, two, one…” wrong.

“Mommy,” she pleaded as if she’d already asked her question, “can you puh-lease get me a new backpack? Everyone makes fun of it.”

“Who’s everyone?”

“Jasmin*.”

“Just her?”

“Yes.”

“What does she say?”

“That it’s for boys.”

“And now you need a new one? Because of that?”

- she nods emphatically-

“No, you can’t get another bookbag, not until you start 1st grade. That’s how it goes. One new backpack per school year.”

“Well next time, can I pick out one for girls, that I like?”

“You don’t like the one you have now?”

“No.”

“Did you like it before Jasmin said it was for boys?”

- she nods, much less emphatically-

So then, I start my speech. It’s one I’ve given often: I’m sure that if I said “Isabella, give yourself the ‘there are very few things that can be classified as a boy thing or a girl thing’ talk” she could recite it in the mirror.

I hate that little girls are almost restricted to princess and housewife fantasies. I hate that “you wear pink and bat your lashes” is the message driven home much sooner than any “you can be anything in the world you want to be”. Is there something wrong with a little girl wanting to be a princess? Of course not. Goobalicious is prancing around with a plastic tiara on her head as I type. Yet, there’s something to be said for breaking down gender barriers and destroying stereotypes, and I don’t think that can be done if every playtime is just tea parties with crowns on our heads. I think all things regarding equality – whether gender, racial, or otherwise – should be taught early. I don’t think we  have to be a queer family for me to raise my girls with the same sensibilities and values regarding society-taught gender roles as my friend Polly and her wife instill in their children. That is, pretending they pretty much don’t exist.

Bella’s bookbag is in the shape of a turtle shell, and it has the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles printed on it. I picked it out for her in Chicago last year and when I brought it back her eyes lit up like you wouldn’t believe. She’s loved it ever since – and Bella will let you know if she doesn’t like something, so I’m sure of this. Now, someone has told her that her bookbag is for boys, and she doesn’t want it anymore.

All I want is for her to be able to be herself. To be able to like what she likes without anyone telling her that it’s not for her, and especially not because she’s a girl.

After I went through my speech I asked Bella “If Jasmin told you that you couldn’t like Iron Man anymore because only boys like superheroes, would you stop liking Iron Man? What about Spiderman? The Hulk? X-Men? Batman?!” Her eyes became larger and larger, head shaking from side to side after every suggestion. “Well, that’s how some people feel. Like you can only like Cinderella and Barbie Dolls. That you should only have a play kitchen, not a play tool bench. That you should have been Tinkerbell instead of The Joker last Halloween. The Little Mermaid instead of Iron Man the year before. I say that these people are nuts and you should be able to like what you like, regardless of whether you’re a girl or a boy. The Ninja Turtles were my favorite when I was little, and I didn’t let anyone make me feel bad about it. Neither should you. You tell Jasmin that if she doesn’t like your backpack, she doesn’t have to wear it. And next year, if you want a different backpack that you think is more “girly” {yes, I make finger quotations} that’ll be fine. I liked the purple one in The Gap last year anyway, but you didn’t.”

I’ll get her a “girlier” bookbag. Sure. I’ve been watching Modern Family. I’m trying to watch Gossip Girl (hoping it gets better and all my friends aren’t insane for liking it). I find myself paying very close attention to these portrayals of adolescent and teenage girls, and their interactions with their parents. I remember these conversations and fights and misunderstandings, and I realize that they are right around the corner, with both of my daughters. The Bella already has mood swings for God’s sake.

Soon, The Bella may lose interest in the things she loves now like comic book heroes and ninjas. I hope that never happens, or that if it does, it’s not because she’s losing herself but because she’s becoming herself.  I get that she’s growing up and soon, regardless of what I’ve taught her, she may just want to be one of The Plastics. She may feel the need to conform, despite her own personal interests and values. Most of us do at one point or another, and because I want her to look back on her childhood and think of it as a wonderful time in her life, I’ll bite my tongue and allow her to make her own way most of the time. I only hope  that there is a balance between the ideals regarding individuality, gender roles, and everything else I’ve taught her and her desire to be accepted by her peers.

I just want her to know: it’s alright to wear black instead of pink. You don’t have to be a cheerleader, you can be a softball player with that strong right arm you’ve got. You can subscribe to Fables rather than Seventeen. You can keep listening to The Smiths instead of Taylor Swift. Be more like Shoshanna than Cinderella. You being a girl doesn’t mean shit. Enjoy being a woman, but don’t you dare let yourself be placed in a box, unless it’s of your own making. That means don’t focus too much on what I envision you as either: even if you end up the prissiest little prima donna of them all, as long as it’s who you really want to be, I’ll be happy.

{*I changed the kid’s name.}

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For just about The Bella’s entire life, I’ve been regulated to listening to nothing but The Beatles. They are her most favorite, and for the first four years of her life, no other musical groups existed. I have every. single. released. The Beatles track. ever.  in my iTunes. About 10-15 GBs of ‘em.  All for her, and her sister.

Over the past year or so she’s been teeter-tottering between Michael Jackson and The Beatles, with a bit of Queen, David Bowie and Lady Gaga thrown in for good measure. It’s been better, needless to say, because while I fucking love The Beatles OMG PLEASE CAN WE LISTEN TO SOMETHING ELSE is what goes through my head every time we get in the car.

Anyway, recently, she’s been expanding her musical tastes. She proclaimed a while ago that she didn’t like the kind of music where “people talk when they should be singing” (ie., rap), but then she heard It Takes Two by Rob Base & DJ E Z Rock and she was won over. I was relieved. Since then, she bounces around to all the hip hop she hears in the car, and I love it.

The other day, she asked me to put ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’ on her iPod. Cool. I obliged. Any child that likes Joy Division is awesome, needless to say. She was singing ‘The Crystal Ship’ to herself while she was coloring last week. The Doors? Girl you’re blowing my mind with this shit. I have a habit of playing The Smiths when I’m in the bathtub, and she has a habit of refusing to let me get any peace, and demanding I put ‘This Charming Man’ on repeat and bouncing around, singing along. I can’t even kick her out because really, that’s just amazing.

Then yesterday, she asked me to put ‘Say Aah’ by Trey Songz on her iPod when we were on our way home.  I was like, “okay, sure – glad to see you opening up to more than the classics”. When we got back, I was about to, but I decided to listen more to the lyrics because Trey Songz is a nasty (SEXY AS ALL HELL) dude. And, maybe I’m being paranoid, but am I wrong in thinking that this whole song is *really* about swallowing jizz, rather than liquor?

I’m not sure I want her singing this. It’s a great song, but it’s weird enough to hear her singing “Why Don’t We Do It in The Road” at the top of her lungs. I’m pretty sure I can’t handle this, even if it’s not about that, because in the back of my head, I think it might be.

—————-
Listening to: Trey Songz – Say Aah ft. Fabolous

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The Bella lost her first tooth on Friday, probably from the insane amounts of cheddar popcorn, candy and pizza she inhaled at her class Valentine’s Day party and afterward, at home. That particular tooth had been loose for about a month or so, and the one beside it is on it’s way out as well. These happen to be the first two teeth she grew, (late in the game as far as teething goes) when she was 11 months old.

She came to me after opening some of her Valentine’s gifts and told me that her tooth was hurting, so I wiggled it and told her I’d probably be able to pull it out. So she opened that mouth of hers as wide as she could and I plucked it right out in one try. She was so happy, so excited, it was adorable – as is the little lisp she developed immediately after the tooth was missing. This is such a big deal to me, I don’t know why. I was fine on her first day of Kindergarten, I don’t think I even teared up, but I held her tooth in between my fingers and choked them back (and again later when I couldn’t find her tooth under her pillow and thought it was lost, but it wasn’t). I guess a tangible example of how she’s not a baby anymore, holding a piece of what she really is no longer, takes away my ability to pretend that she’s still a baby.

I swear to you that she was just like this:

Now, she’s this little thing that can read and write and add and subtract and ohh–

*This is a mommy blog after all, you know. In essence.

—————-
Listening to: The Shins – One By One All Day

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Bella,

I’ve written to and about you quite a bit over the past year. I want to write to you again, right now, but words are escaping me. My thoughts are all jumbled up and confused, clouded by all the billions of i love yous floating around in my head that I haven’t yet said. They are all I can focus on. I love you. I love you I love you I love you I love you. I don’t think I’ll ever make any lee way towards getting them all out, but I’ll continue to try and for this post, I think I’ll just run down the past year. How you’ve changed and grown, and stayed the same and blossomed.

You and I, we get along beautifully, as we always have. You’re becoming more and more defiant, but I believe that’s just you growing up. It’s odd, watching you develop into this little person, this real little person with serious thoughts and intense feelings and steadfast opinions. You’re still silly, you still can’t make up your mind whether you love or hate when I tickle you, you still tell knock knock jokes that make absolutely no sense but on top of that, you talk to me about children who misbehave in your class, you remind me of papers that must be signed and things that must be done before school the next day, you question my logic and reasoning in your own quiet way.

You love school, just as much today, three and one half months later, as you did on your first day. You love learning, you love practicing what you’ve been taught. You pride yourself on your perfect behavior chart and on how many words you can sound out and spell now. You adore your teacher, your classmates. You bring lunch some days, and some days you prefer the cafeteria. A couple of weeks ago you started riding the bus, which you’ve wanted to do all along. Every day when you get off the bus, you run across the street as quickly as you can and smack dab into me, throwing you arms around me. You enjoy it, although you’re ready to be solely a car rider again. You miss me coming to your class every morning, and waiting for you in the hallway every afternoon. I miss it too.

I flat ironed your hair on a very low setting one morning before school and I swear you walked so stiffly that you could have balanced a book on your head the entire day. You’re very much still that girly girl, the one who likes to look and smell nice, that chooses her outfit from hairstyle to shoes the night before. You have more clothes and pairs of shoes than most adults I know. You’ll probably always be a little prima donna, and I don’t mind. You’re you.

You work your ass off in physical therapy every week, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. You stretch and lift and catch and pull and do everything your therapists want, as many times as they want. Your range of motion is much better. It’s hard for me to watch, still. You want to play guitar, but you’ll never be able to. You’ll never be able to do a bicep curl correctly and I have this horrible vision of Freddie Rodriguez in Lady In The Water when I picture you working out when you’re older. You don’t care though, nothing will stop you or bring you down. You know that your arm has issues, but you’re working to make it better, as good as it can get, and I’m proud of you. Every week your therapist comment on how strong and resilient you are. And it’s true.

You and your sister still get along better than any other pair of siblings I’ve come across. Of course there’s the rivalry and competition and you annoy the shit out of each other for no reason a lot of the time, but you’re madly in love with each other. You’ve become more mature, and you’re taking your role as an older sister much more seriously. You teach, you boss around, you care for her with ferocity. The simple things stand out to me, like when she falls asleep watching television, I find her on the floor with a blanket draped over her, and her dog under her arm: your doing. I sit and listen when you don’t think I am, to you two discussing your futures, our lives together, what ways you’ll torture Joey the next time he comes over. You’re the leader, and I don’t mind her following you. I hope she always will a little, you set a pretty fine example.

Last year, on your birthday, I told you I was proud of you were. Today, on your birthday, that still rings true. So fucking proud. Happy Birthday Bella Bella Fo Fella. Here’s your survey for the year:

Name: Isabella Noel
Nickname: The Bella, Bella, Bella Fo Fella
Age: 6 years.
Birthplace: North Carolina
Heritage: German/Irish & Black/Mexican
Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius
Shoe Size: 2 – Youth
Clothing Size: 6/7
Rightie or Leftie: Right Handed
Innie or Outie: Innie.
Fears: Waterbugs.
Bedtime: 7pm

Favorite Song: “Hey Jude” – The Beatles
Favorite Movie: Spirited Away, The Spongebob Squarepants Movie, UP
Favorite TV Show: Spongebob Squarepants, iCarly, Tru Jackson, VP
Favorite Toy: Your sister’s easel, your Barbie dolls
Favorite Place: Monkey Joe’s
Favorite Person: Mommy, Goobie
Favorite Saying: ‘Classic’, ‘awesome’.
Favorite Book: David Gets in Trouble
Favorite Food: Fried chicken, pepperoni pizza
Favorite Animal: Kittens.
Favorite Store: Target
Salad Dressing: Ranch
Toothpaste Flavor: Cherry

Dislikes: cold weather, being too hot, cleaning up alone, not being able to wear what you want,
Likes: school, coloring, writing, watching tv, playing outside, going to the movies and eating nachos, shopping

—————-
Listening to: Zero 7 – Home

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