Children of Avatar

Given that I live in the boonies, have three small children, haven't seen a movie in a theater with my husband since before we were married eight and a half years ago, and that I tend to hibernate in winter, it's shocking that I made it to the theater to see Avatar.  And it was well worth it.  It's one of those game-changing cultural and technological experiences that had to happen.  I had heard from enough people that it was "The Best Movie Ever," that I made it to the theater and was thoroughly engrossed and amazed.  Before I saw it, I wondered if I might be able to bring my 7 year old, C, to see it.  I had reasons:  he loves visual arts (and most other types of artistic pursuits), he has talked a lot about making movies when he gets older, he has a dreamy countenance and could engage in such a spectacular fictional world, and he would be able to engage in the cultural discussion and experience around this movie.  I spoke at length with dear mommy friends.  I heard of other kids his age and younger that saw it.  I went to one of my favorite websites for evaluating media for children, commonsensemedia.org.  I trust that website, and it had a definite 13 years old+ rating for children.  Based on that and other issues,  I decided against it.  Then I saw the movie myself.

Well, you know, wow.  Words can't really describe the experience.  Story aside, the 3D experience is like being on the holodeck of Pandora.  The intensity of the scenery, the acrobatics, the flying, the sharp-toothed critters were like nothing ever before on film (but, remember, I don't get out much)...not to mention the emotional intensity of the story and the absolute devastation that befalls the Na'vi in the loss of their home.  My husband and I came out of the theater in our own state of Shock and Awe.  Then we had a thoughtful discussion about whether or not our son should see it.  He had the same questions that I had thought about before seeing it.  We both admired the hero of the story, the warrior who finds his path and love.  We adored the strong female characters in the story, and the fact that the more 'primitive' culture triumphs over the machines (of course, how many machines were needed to make the film?).  There are many positive (if not psychadelic) messages in this story. 

 I take my job of raising boys--three of them--very seriously.  I am trying to strike the balance between strength and sensitivity;  trying to raise noble warriors.   In fact our eldest's moniker is that of a legendary Irish warrior.  We need powerful warriors and true heroes in our clans.  We speak often to our boys of what bravery means in the course of sword fights, archery, wrestling and general disagreements:  how to be strong, to stand for your beliefs--to know your beliefs, for that matter--to be honest and to communicate needs and feelings (use your words, boys).  And there have been moments when I'm even proud of my son for using physical force and standing up for himself.  C has for years taken the warrior role deep into his soul, and until recently dressed up constantly as a loincloth wearing Native, carrying quivers of arrows and bows. 

In spite of its warrior hero, I have concluded that Avatar is just too intense for my boy.  The dinosauroid critters were ugly, sharp-toothed and terrifying.  The first scene where Jake is alone in the forest would be nightmare-inducing enough...and for a little boy who lives in the forest amongst sharp-toothed creatures?  The fighting scenes were so realistic and violent--granted, though not gory.  Watching the home tree get torched and crash to the ground while the Na'vi flee--horrific.  And well, we live amongst the trees, too, and fire is a real, real issue every summer.  How is a young mind to process all of this?

I waver back and forth, pretty much constantly, about whether I am too protective of my child.  Children in other countries, or just other situations, actually use weapons, firearms, hunt, butcher...and play first person shooter video games, watch gore, violence and murder on television and in the theater.  Children are warriors, real and imaginary.  Consensus in our country and culture has given us the rating systems used on games and films.  But do people really pay attention to it?  I do, though I'm generally a rule follower...and I think I'm in the minority.  It is each individual parent/family's right to make decisions best for them.  But exposing 3 or 5 or 7 year olds to Avatar world?  Can a child even grasp the concept of fiction--science fiction--set 145 years from now?  Can they separate out reality from fake violence?  What do those searing images--of those animals and fires and dying Na'vi and humans with two arrows piercing the heart--do to the young brain?  Not to mention the degree of sensory stimulation that world presented....

I don't want to be judgmental of any parent that has chosen to take their child to see this film--I have really had to wrestle with these issues personally, and I'm laying it out here.  And my husband is still toying with taking C to see it (against my now formed opinion).  My reasoning on waiting for the 3D techno-experience is that the Alice in Wonderland movie and the Pixar dragon-tamer movie (the previewed films) will be coming out soon and C can go to the theater and experience these mellower films (though my husband argues that Alice in Wonderland might actually be scarier).  Will Avatar be in the theater, or home video, when he is at an age when I think he can handle it?  I'm sure it will be--and much, much more.  I am taking the path of (over?)protecting him--allowing him to remain in his childhood world.  Benign omission.   Because, though children do wield guns in certain parts of the world, I have the luxury of allowing my child to be a child.  He can be the warrior of his own making.  Once a door such as Avatar's is opened, there is no going back.  The innocence is lost;  a child begins to see the monster in the dark is real, the evil in the world is present and often deceitful, the intentions of others are muddy.  These are all lessons we learn in life--but when should we learn them?

It is hard, because there is a social pressure on kids to have seen this movie (or others like it--Batman, Spiderman, Star Wars--even more enticing to children and all PG-13) so that they are in the know.  But which child can really handle it?  Some kids my son's age very likely can handle this movie.  When is it that a child can watch a person die on screen through violence and understand the full impact and consequence of this?  The child brain operates on a concrete level--without the ability to think outside of itself (think: sharing) until the age of 12, give or take.  Children cannot perform abstract thought.  They can understand pretend, of course.  But the abstract concepts will be distorted in a child's mind to a point they can understand;  they will create a myth around this story to process the images.  And they will be desensitized to bad things.  I only saw a few pictures of the devastation in Haiti because it was enough--to know what had happened was enough.  I did not need the bombardment of grotesques images.  I'm a sensitized adult and was able to imagine enough about the tragedy.  The children warriors and hunters who wield guns or butcher goats are in living those situations--they are real to them and they see the blood and hear the cries.  Seeing violence third hand...well, I wonder about what effect that detatchment has on the soul.  Is the story understood?  Is the consequence translated? 

The questions I pose are sincere, and I would be very curious to hear from people who have taken children to see this film and what their experience has been.  For my tender-hearted boy (and self), I will postpone this experience.  He has enough going on in his imagination.  See clown, above.

Iscream for snowscream!

In honor of the highly anticipated series of snowstorms forecast to hit our little ol' piece of the Southwest, I'm putting out the recipe for one of our very most fave things regarding snow.  Yes, young and old alike love snow ice cream.  I know it is cold on cold--most of us want a hot cocoa after a tromp in the snow.  But it's fun and you can have cocoa with it.  And, hey, it's ice cream...kids don't care what temperature it is.


Snow Ice Cream
Get a big bowl of clean snow--at least 5 cups
1 cup half and half
1/2 cup sugar or maple syrup
1tsp vanilla
dash salt

Stir--will get nice and creamy.  Dreamy!  You can also experiment with flavors if you fancy--peppermint extract, lemon, lime or other fruit juice.  You can even squirt in a blob of chocolate syrup.  If you like, skip the dairy for a more sorbet experience. 

I thought myself quite clever, leaving the large bowl outside after serving to keep cold...then the kitty found it and had herself a big milky treat.  You may want to transfer to a smaller bowl, perhaps with a lid, and store wisely. 

Enjoy!

Reflections on Magical Thinking

I fear we are passing a milestone that I'm realizing I'm not quite prepared for.  With the magical glow of Christmas fading away in the rear view mirror, and the light and length of days growing steadily longer in the road ahead, I've been pondering the fairy world.  You know, Santa and the like.  My oldest, at age 7, seems like he has rocketed (and not slowly transitioned as I'd envisioned) from magical thinking to concrete thinking.   He spent the weeks before Christmas asking questions about the existence of Santa Claus, pondering the plausibility, examining the details and questioning the logistics.  I suppose this is the age when this sort of thing starts--it is after all the transition from magical to concrete operational, or some such thing that Piaget and Steiner and parents any observer of children note.  I'm just surprised at how quickly it came.  I think that the older kids on the playground plant the seed of doubt, and as concrete logical thinking grows so does the questioning. 

As the fall semester ended and we entered the cocoon of winter break some weeks back, I found that as the days since the playground accumulated and Christmas grew closer, C's belief in the magic of Santa began to rise again.  By the time the holiday arrived he was in the throes of flying reindeer and magical sleighs.  He declared several times that he was a believer.  He claimed, a la Polar Express, to hear the sleigh bells.  Assessing his booty, he was thankful, several times, to Santa and all that he delivered.  He even wanted to write him a letter of thanks (see my heart glow with that gesture).  It was amazing how Santa knew exactly what to bring, he reflected.  We played with the toys in our insulated home.  2010 came.  School restarted this week.  Then the test happened.

Last night, C mentioned that he had a newly loose tooth--his eighth, so he's very familiar with the coinage accompanying lost baby teeth.  He was wiggling away and it seemed quite loose for a new one--but those teeth can linger for months...and I heard nothing more.  This morning, he presented to the kitchen for breakfast, left lateral incisor tooth in hand.  He told me that he'd pulled it out last night and hadn't told anyone, left it under his pillow...and was disappointed to confirm that the tooth fairy does not exist this morning.  I was stunned.  Speechless.  I looked surprised, saying, "Oh, really?"  Then as is my usual fashion with difficult questions, I figured I'd turn them back on him.  What did he think happened?  I didn't ask too much, as I was trying frantically in my head to come up with a decent explanation...and tried to just let the silence seem natural.   In the end, nothing emerged in the moment so I dropped it.  I thought about it all day, and wondered if I could leave some quarters under his pillow while he was at school...but he took the tooth with him so that wouldn't work.  The teaching assistant in his class even called me at home to alert me of his test, bless her heart, but alas, I'd already found out.  At the end of the school day, he showed me the tooth in my rear view mirror as I drove out of the parking lot, replacing it in it's former socket and smiling.  He wondered if the tooth were still alive, if it would then be any value to the TF.  Then he stated matter of factly that he had in fact been testing the existence of the fairy and she failed.  He didn't say anything further.  He didn't ask me if it was me all this time, which I thought would be the ergo question.  I guess he's not quite ready to give it up completely...?  Though I did ask if he was going to put it under his pillow tonight and he said no, he was going to put it in a picture.  I suggested she might come steal it.  He said he didn't know.

Between this and Santa, I've wondered at the wonder of magical fairies.  Why are they so great?  Why do we propagate these lies?  I do believe that is how the young child's mind works.  Anyone who's spent any time with a 4 year old will be amazed at the imagination and magic that child will create, linking unlikely worlds, explaining how planes fly, how telephones work, watch them occupy mythical characters, performing impossible feats.  And as adults, Santa allows us to indulge in that magic, to honor the mysteries of life and relish the innocence, both of our child's and our own in remembrance.  I have been amazed at my own reaction to this (essentially) loss of innocence...one step closer to grown up, letting go, moving away from mom, not needing me...or perhaps I'm making too much of it. 

I also think that fairies and Santa give a needed degree of separation and consequence from a parent.  The day in, day out correcting/feedback/instruction that children receive from their parents can get old for both parties.  Creating that third party that is privy to all, sees all, knows all, but detaches the parent and all of that baggage.  As parents well know, children save their best tricks and worst behavior for home, where it's (usually, hopefully) safe to try out.  They can let their guard down, they don't have to keep it all together, and they can be a little terror to mom and she will love you in the end no matter what (usually, hopefully).  So behavior watched by a St. Nicolaus, Santa Claus, Kris Kringle who will know and reward or punish accordingly truly can bring out the best in a child.  Though I can't help but feel guilty about it, I pulled out a few Santa threats this year.  I even dialed him on my cell phone at one point.  But what a powerful motivator.  And it seems in my quick online research on Santa, that he has existed/been borrowed and evolved since the time of the Greeks.  This is not a new phenomenon.

I recall the exact moment in my childhood that I found out about Santa.  I had clung on until I was 8 in spite of three older siblings.  I believed, because everyone told me it was so.  Then I asked my mom one day, near Christmas, knowing she would tell me the truth but not expecting the answer I received.  We were in the laundry room with the ugliest orange-brown utility carpet you can conjure up in your mind as a background print on the moment.  I felt duped.  I felt so silly and small and that everyone had lied to me and I was mad that I was the last one in on the big joke on me.  I think it had something to do with being the youngest and needing to have everything perfect all of the time.  This was not in the plan.

I recovered.  And from what I hear, my reaction is unusual.  Kids seem to assimilate the truth about Santa/Easter Bunny/Tooth Fairy/Halloween Fairy magic slowly, and appreciate that the world was made softer and sweeter for them by those adults that love them.  In fact, I think that only now, as I perpetuate that lie that so upset my 8 year old self, do I realize how much love goes into being a magical fairy for your child.  And I realize the grief that goes with losing that soft, sweet, innocent outlook on the world that is being a young child.  There is nothing that quite compares to the joy and wonder on a child's face when a fairy-granted surprise greets them.  And tonight, as C goes to bed, I wonder what he will do with his tooth.  Which direction will he choose to go?  He's been playing with it all night and has actually lost it a couple of times, prompting me to suggest TF came and got it.  But he's recovered it, it's sharp and half-hollowed out edges irritating his palm.  I wonder.  I know it's ineveitable.  As I look at his big round face in the rear view mirror, now with big front teeth floating in space by now two empty sockets, I see that I am looking at my little boy, seeing the magic (though definitely NOT the creativity) fade into the background of the road we've already traveled.