Seeing Stars

On the rare occasion I reach for Star magazine, I take perverse pleasure in not recognizing about 75% of the so-called celebrities featured in it.  I’m downright smug in my lack of current pop-culture knowledge, and full-blown snotty when it comes to the darn kids and what’s passing as their music these days.

Perhaps I’m suffering from early onset Grouchy Old Lady Syndrome.  Perhaps I just can’t relate to the here and now.  Perhaps I really just don’t care and can’t think of anything else to write about today.  All I know is this:  I can still sing every cut in order from Rick Springfield’s Working Class Dog album but I cannot tell you the title of one Katy Perry hit.

In my day, our only connection to our favored famous came monthly through Tiger Beat magazine.  We prayed each week that a certain special someone could take time from his busy General Hospital schedule in order make an appearance on Solid Gold.  We bought albums, posters, and t-shirts en masse. It’s different today, however, thanks to social media.  With just a simple ‘like’ we can now connect on a supposedly deeper level with them.  Heck, even people famous for doing absolutely nothing have millions of Instagram followers.  It’s instant celebrity, and we the sheeple sop it up with a biscuit.  And then, in about 15 minutes, we turn our gaze elsewhere.

This lack of loyalty saddens me, but what really keeps me up at night (not really, I’m merely going for effect here) is the lack of attention.  It’s not our fault.  Those 15 minutes seem to be much shorter than they used to be.  The Man and his Machine are pumping out two-a-penny pop tarts and pretty-boy lip synchers at an alarming rate these days. Of course the kids dig it - it’s all they know.  It’s getting harder and harder to find something organic. We alleged-grownups  must be vigilant in exposing them to more.  It is with great pride that I report to you that my two fabulous nieces (ages 8 and 5) count Dolly Parton and Pat Benatar among their favorites. The credit goes, of course, to my ever-conscientious sister and her quest to provide her children with something not on the current menu.

We like what we like and we needn’t try to explain our preferences to others.  Nothing irks me more than snobbery, which is what I appear to be guilty of at this very moment.  Hear me out:  honing talent takes time, and the kids aren’t understanding this concept thanks to televised contests and viral videos. Insta-fame. Our fast-food mindset has permeated darn near everything in our lives.  We consume without thought, and yet remain hungry.

With that being said, I’d like to note that there are a few exceptions who come to us through the ‘drive-through window’ that certainly deserve a nod. Kelly Clarkson, winner of the first American Idol, has an amazing voice, I think, and I’m glad she’s etching a career for herself in country music.  The Spice Girls had some catchy tunes, and to this day when I feel ‘Girl-Powery’ I can’t help but chant ‘Well I tell ya what I want..what I really really want…’  And my hand to Goddess, if you make one disparaging remark against the Monkees in my presence, I will smack you in the gob. Especially if that Monkee is Peter Tork (I’m looking at you, Mr. Newman).

From 2001, older and STILL playing their own instruments. RIP Davy Jones.

(Side note:  I was part of the MTV revival of Monkee-mania in the mid-80’s;  I was not alive during the first go-around.  Just clearing that up…)

I guess if there is a point to my ramblings this morning it’s this:  there’s more out there - we merely need to seek it, remember it, and share it. We've got to let the kids know that they’re being bamboozled and getting short-changed in the music department.  If your daughter says she wants to 'make music', please direct her to the genius of Stevie Nicks.   Let her know that there’s more to it than the glitter, the gloss, and the marketing machine. Let her experience first-hand something real.  Let her draw her own conclusions, and then leave her alone.

                     Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
                     Can I handle the seasons of my life?

 I don't know, Ms. Nicks, but I am trying.

On a Roll

“The problem, Mrs. A, is that your children, to put it bluntly, are lazy.”

I blurted this out recently, stunning a mother and her two children into silence (a major coup, as they are incredible chatterboxes -loud, boorish windbags, quite frankly).

“And disrespectful,” I added, even though that really wasn’t the topic at hand.  I had a captive audience, so I figured I might as well go for it.

For those of you who don’t know, I spend a few hours a week tutoring children.  I’ve worked with Mrs. A’s children (a girl, aged 17 and a boy, aged 10) for a couple of years now.  They’re a nice enough family, although my time with them proves to be a bit much on occassion.  I don’t mind the tutoring aspect of it (when it actually occurs), but dealing with these children and their ingrained sense of entitlement wearies me, to say the least.  Plus, they consider themselves cute and funny.  They’re not.

The conversation began when Mrs. A informed me in a rather harsh tone that her daughter’s grades have been slipping over the last few months.  The girl is quite capable of understanding and applying advanced concepts, but knowing her as well as I do, I could easily figure out what’s been going on.  She’s simply an unmotivated teen who spends a great deal of time lamenting about the stupidity of school and teachers.

I’d left my ‘nice way of putting things’ hat at home, and ended up unleashing like I’ve never unleashed before when dealing with parents and their children.  Once upon a time, Mrs. Newman proceeded with caution in these scenarios, but that Mrs. Newman, like Elvis, has left the building.  I no longer have the energy to put up with foolishness and have taken the ‘call it as I see it’ practice to a new level.  You want me to give them homework, Mrs. A?  Sure thing, although we’ve tried it before and they didn’t do it, remember?  At this, the boy burst into tears and ran to the bathroom.  He’s pulled this stunt before:  when he’s tired, when he’s hungry, when he doesn’t have a pencil, so I paid his little outburst no notice.  I felt this ‘just us gals’ moment with Mrs. A and her daughter was meant to be.

‘My dear,’ I began, looking the daughter straight in the eye, ‘there is absolutely no reason for your grades to slip.  You’re not working as you should in school.  You have no respect for education.’

‘THAT’S RIGHT!’  yelled Mrs. A, who suddenly realized that I might actually know what I’m talking about.  I believe her original intent was to blame me for her kid’s poor grades.

‘And, ‘I continued, ‘if you complain as much in class as you do during our sessions together, of course your teacher will think you’re not up for the job.”  At this, the daughter began to cry, but at least had the decency to sit there and listen.

‘YES!’ proclaimed the mother, ‘SHE HAS A TERRIBLE ATTITUDE!! BOTH OF MY KIDS HAVE ROTTEN ATTITUDES.  I DON’T KNOW WHERE THEY GET IT!!!’

‘Quite frankly, Mrs. A, I feel as if my coming here is a waste of my time and your money.  Which reminds me-’

“Oh, yes,’ said Mrs. A in a much calmer tone, ‘I still owe you for the month.’

‘Actually, you owe me for last month as well.’

‘Um....I didn’t make it to the ATM.’ Big-eyed and flustered, she spoke in a soft voice now, one that I’d never heard her use before.  Mrs. A likes to yell, in case you haven’t figured that out, and she’ll yell at anyone:  me, her children, her husband, her in-laws, the neighbors, stray cats, and poor, unsuspecting UPS delivery men.

‘That’s okay.  I’ll take a check this time.’  I smiled, and even though I desperately wanted to go home, I’d be darned if I'd leave without some sort of compensation.  She obliged and grabbed her purse.  Awkward silence enveloped the room as she wrote the check.  Normally, I’d say something in order to break the tension, but since I was the cause of the tension, I figured I’d just let it ride.   

‘If I may be so bold as to mention this, you must know, too,  that  both of your children are easily distracted and will find any excuse to not focus on their work.’  I could have shared many examples had she asked for one, but the one I had in mind concerned her mother-in-law, who bangs pots and pans around in the kitchen during our tutoring sessions, preparing meals for her grandchildren that go uneaten because they only want the fake fast food from around the corner.  Based on the smell coming from the kitchen, I can’t say that I blame them.  I wanted to tell her, too, that her house was too dark and stuffy, and her bathroom sink could do with a good scrubbing.  ‘I go home every Monday night reeking of cumin and frustration,’ I wanted to say, but I didn’t, for fear of sounding impolite.

As she handed me the check, she asked if I had any additional days during the week in order to work with her children.  ‘You’re honest with them.  They listen to you.  They don’t listen to me,’ she said.   These kids don’t listen to anyone, but I couldn't help but feel touched by the sentiment just the same.

 ‘I can fit them in on Wednesday afternoon,’ I told her.

‘Oh, no, that won’t work.  How about Sunday?’

‘I (pretend to) go to church on Sunday,’ I replied, ‘but if something else opens up later in the week, I’ll let you know.

We hugged, the three of us, and I as left I could hear the boy still boo-hooing in the bathroom. Quite a show, indeed! I don’t feel as if boys shouldn’t cry, but I sincerely believe they should get a handle on it at some point, or at least learn to sob silently behind closed doors.  That’s my method and it’s served me well for years.

As I drove home that night, I thought about Mrs. A. She’s loud.  She’s gruff.  I do like her, though.  Given her disposition, she’s probably not accustomed to people being completely honest with her.  I’m happy I gave it to her straight, and I think she respects me for it.  Most people simply want the truth.  I’m not one of those people, but that shouldn’t stop me from telling it from time to time.

 

 

Summer School

Something about this time of year always has me feeling a bit nostalgic. As a kid, I loved summer vacation, and it always proved to be just that: a vacation. It meant time away from school (a good thing), trips out of town (a necessary thing, particularly for my overworked father), and an opportunity to improve myself (even back then, I was a self-help nerd).

Although I made fairly good grades (provided I enjoyed the course), school was not necessarily ‘my thing’ (ironic that I devoted twelve years of my adult life as a school teacher, don’t you think?). Don’t get me wrong – I believe a great deal of merit exists in most of these academic and athletic camps that have become quite popular these days, but I fear too many of our children are overscheduled right now when they should be relaxing and recharging for the upcoming school year. My youngest client, a girl of eight, comes to me three afternoons a week absolutely exhausted. She attends two summer camps daily, and when she leaves me, she heads to her piano lesson. It’s too much!

Sometimes just living life, even a kid’s life, can provide concrete learning that will ultimately shape our adult selves. Allow me to share a few of my own childhood discoveries that I still fall back upon today:

-Motor skills can be improved upon when one’s teen-aged aunt forces you to cut pictures of Shaun Cassidy out of Tiger Beat magazine. It wasn’t always easy – sometimes his face was in the shape of a heart.

-The ability to coordinate outfits and dress for any occasion is quite important and can lead to a great career (at least in my world). I am forever indebted to Barbie for that one. She slept in a Kleenex box, but she always looked fabulous – that’s a great example of understanding your priorities and ‘making do’ (to quote my mother) with what you’ve got.

-Sharing equals caring. Always the gentleman, Han Solo (in the form of an action figure) consistently offered his blaster to Kate Jackson when she and the other plastic Angels fought crimes in the Miller family living room. That’s also a good example of chivalry, which I’ve always found to be an incredibly attractive trait.

-I learned quite early in life the importance of good grooming thanks to Dr. Pepper Lip Smackers and a boy who encouraged me to get in touch with my feminine side (he’d already found his, and I truly loved him for it) by applying Vaseline to my eyelashes in order to make them shine.

-I can’t solve an algebraic equation or play an instrument well, but I do know the finer points of overthrowing one’s father as the head of the family business, faking one’s death, and overcoming amnesia thanks to countless summer hours spent watching Guiding Light (man, do I miss that show!)

-Lessons in compromise and strategic planning tactics occur when you share a room with your sister, particularly when negotiating which walls Duran Duran posters should grace, and which walls Rick Springfield posters should grace.

-Reading comprehension skills are greatly improved upon when one devotes hours to Seventeen magazine. A girl can hone her critical thinking skills by taking each quiz in the magazine, and discover, too, what type of boy she will marry, the colors that look best on her, and which hairsprays are the best at keeping her bangs resembling those of a mutant rooster.

-My music lessons came from listening to Amarillo’s All Hit Z-93. I would grow up and become the ‘Mid-Day Girl’ for that station a decade later. That’s one of those Law of Attraction spiritual-type lessons, too: what you think about, you bring about.

And I thought an awful lot about having fun, enjoying myself, improving myself, acting silly, and diving into weirdly creative activities each summer. I still do…

Beth Newman
Image Consultant, Life Coach, Author
Newman Image
www.newmanimage.info
Look, feel, and LIVE your absolute best!

Nice Girls WILL Finish First!

Over the course of the last few days, I’ve had the same conversation with parents regarding this mean girl epidemic that, evidently, isn’t going away anytime soon. One parent expressed his concerns, asking if he should encourage his daughter to blaze a mean girl path for herself because, ‘she’s just not making as many strides academically or socially as the girls who are more aggressive.’ One mom told me she’s all but given up, and has expressed to her daughter the old ‘if you can’t beat them, join’ them cliché.

Quite disheartened, I pondered this for a good long while. It seems as if our society is constantly inundated with reports and examples of bad behavior that are not only rewarded, but encouraged. All is not lost, though, I’m sure of it – as long as we adults continue to fight for what’s right and shield our children (and ourselves) from those negative, mean forces out there.

Set the Example
When you sneak into that coveted parking space at the mall (the one that the driver of the Camry had been waiting patiently for, complete with flashing blinker), you’re sending the message to your child that cutting in front of someone is a perfectly acceptable act. When you mention that the clerk behind the counter gave you too much change – change that you kept – you’re telling your child that it’s okay to essentially steal (which is what you’re doing when you don’t return the money). We must show our children that we are aware, compassionate, and concerned with being good citizens. Anything less than this could very well plant a few mean girl seeds.

Keep Them Busy (But Not Too Busy)
As one mom and I planned for her daughter’s summer consultations with me, I grew shocked as I discovered that the giant, color-coded calendar on the kitchen wall belonged solely to the girl (who is twelve-years-old). Mom has registered Daughter in every camp, club, and private tutorial session available in our community. ‘What about down time?’ I inquired. ‘Oh, we don’t believe in down time. It’s best if she’s busy. She’ll stay out of trouble that way.’ I politely disagreed, for I’ve seen too many overscheduled students in my fifteen years of education to know that when a child has too much on her plate, she grows weary, frustrated, and tends to rebel a bit more than her less active counterparts. Down-time is good; please trust me on this.

Limit the Media
Unfortunately, we live in a dumbed-downed era in which just about anything passes for entertainment. Many shows geared toward teens and pre-teens are highly sexualized, and often celebrate mean girl behavior. A good portion of the music aimed toward the same audience is guilty of this, too. I encourage you to know what your child is watching, listening to, and reading.

Get Involved
As a parent, it’s okay to make a nuisance of yourself: know who your child spends time with, get to know her friends’ parents. If you don’t feel comfortable about someone within her circle of friends, tell her so. Limit her time with them. You are the parent – you’re not her best friend – so take charge. Ask questions. Speak to her – not at her. Remain calm, knowing that any tantrums she throws willpass.

Nice Girls Do Win Out…In the End
It’s important to express to your daughter that good behavior will always be rewarded in some fashion. Karma is a very real thing, I believe. We must teach our children patience while practicing it ourselves. We must always take the high road in all that we do and say, and encourage our children to do the same. We must realize that a little lazy time is good for the soul. We must band together, do what’s right, teach what’s right, and remain vigilant in our fight against the mean girl syndrome.

If you've enjoyed today's musing, I encourage you to contribute to the Elegant Fund. Proceeds benefit Girls, Inc., an organization that encourages girls to be strong, smart, and bold. Details at http://www.newmanimage.info/Elegant.html. Together, we can make a difference!

Beth Newman
Image Consultant/Life Coach/Author
Newman Image
www.newmanimage.info
'Look, feel, and LIVE your absolute best!'

Somebody's Watching

A while back, the headmaster of the school where I taught for so many years forwarded to me an essay written by one of his students. Entitled My Most Mannered Teacher, it was about yours truly. This essay detailed the reasons why she felt I deserved kudos for displaying good manners, for treating everyone kindly, and such. I never had this child as a student. She was a little bitty thing in the elementary department, and I was upstairs with my middle school students. I had very little interaction with this young woman, so you can imagine my surprise when I read her essay.

I’m not relating this to you in order to brag, for I feel there are others at this school more deserving of this praise than I. I’m simply hoping to covey just how those little things we do add up, and to stress that someone, somewhere, is watching.

Sure, we can spend all day long telling kids (and adults, too, for that matter) just what to do. But when the rubber hits the road, it’s our actions that will have a far greater impact on them.

We stress to them the importance of speaking highly of others, then turn around and gossip about our neighbor. We tell them to treat others respectfully while we rudely disregard our spouse. We encourage them to have faith during challenging times, then panic or throw a tantrum when things don’t go our way.

Actions speak louder than words –an oldie but a goody, and a cliché that exists for a reason.

So remember, Sweeties, people do remember what you did, and how you made them feel. Your actions could very easily impact someone’s life. You may be someone’s role model. Keep that in mind the next time you’re tempted to forget your manners.

Beth Newman
Image Consultant/Life Coach/Author
Newman Image
www.newmanimage.info
Look, feel, and LIVE your absolute best!

Online consultations available!

Bogus Self-Esteem

Did you hear the one about the child who received an award every year at school? It wasn’t necessarily won due to merit. The school’s policy dictated that every student must win one each year.

Or, how about the one whose parents placed their child smack-dab in the middle of their universe? Every party, every outing, and every activity at home centered on their child.

Are you aware of the twenty-something, so used to getting his way and receiving pats on the back just for walking into the room that he can’t quite wrap his head around the fact that he’s not landed a CEO gig, even though he is a college graduate (by two months, mind you).

My-oh-my. What a sense of entitlement.

I love children, and have devoted a number of years toward educating them, nurturing them, and enlightening them. I do not, however, condone pandering to them, nor do I think it’s a good idea for them to get the impression that the world revolves around them. It doesn’t, and the sooner they learn this lesson, the better off they will be.

When I was growing up, I had my share of ‘kid stuff’ in the form of birthday parties, sleepovers, and such. However, my parents lived their own lives, and I was dragged along on many adult-centered adventures. Most of our vacations took place in the quiet stillness of the mountains, rather than at amusement parks. My parents hosted parties while my sister and I played with Barbie dolls in our room. I knew my parents loved me, but I also learned quite early that they were more than ‘just parents’. They had their own friends and enjoyed their own kind of fun – the kind of fun that did not include children.

I did win a few awards in school, but believe me, I had to work hard for them.

I graduated from college and ended up working at a radio station full of men, some of whom had been in radio longer than I’d been alive. I didn’t expect to land prime air-time, and I certainly didn’t: I got my start working midnight-6am while only insomniacs and perverts listened. Did I complain? No. Did I beg for sweeter air-time? No. Did I get sweeter airtime when I proved myself capable of handling it? Yes.

Fast forward to my career as a classroom teacher.

I joined the staff of a very new middle school. At the end of the year, my principal informed me that every child in my homeroom was to receive an award. “Just make something up, if you have to,” she said. So I did. I think about the little stinker who received “Improvement in Communication” merely because he’d stopped swearing so much.

I fell to my knees in gratitude when the school came to the profound conclusion that every child winning an award might not be in the best interest of the child or of the school. “What if,” an administrator said, “we gave awards based on merit only?” Gasps flew throughout our little school community, and you can bet we were all taken to task by crying children and their angry parents afterwards. Most of them finally got used to the new policy; others, not so much….

I will never forget Mr. Motivation, whose son was in my 8th grade homeroom. I refer to him as Mr. Motivation because he fancied himself as a motivational speaker, author, and self-esteem guru. Junior Motivation was a nice kid, but not a stellar student. He missed a lot of school for various reasons (headache, lactose intolerance, paper cut, Grandma took him shopping – I’m not making these up). He didn’t participate in any extracurricular activities. He claimed to be on the tennis team, but rarely showed up for practice. Anyway, Junior wasn’t acknowledged during the awards ceremony, something his father could not fathom.

Mr. Motivation stormed into my classroom, demanding to know why Junior wasn’t recognized. I pulled out the guidelines set forth by the school that stated, in great detail, the requirements for receiving awards.

“But he’s such a good kid!” Mr. Motivation proclaimed.

“Yes, he certainly is,” I agreed.

“This has irrevocably damaged his self-esteem! I hope you can live with yourself!” and with that, Mr. Motivation stomped out of my room, his face red, fists clenched, seemingly on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Self-esteem.

We don’t get it with a constant barrage of atta-boys. In his seminars, education specialist Nathan Levy refers to the Bogus Self-Esteem movement that’s overtaken our parenting techniques and school systems. I’ve seen it first-hand throughout the years. Sure, we want our kids to be rewarded and recognized, but we’ve lost sight of the fact that they must actually put forth a little effort in order to truly succeed.

When I began my consulting practice, a young woman approached me in need of help. She’d just graduated from college and was working in retail. She couldn’t understand why some major corporation didn’t snatch her up and pay her six figures right off the bat. I had to take a tough-love approach and point out the following to her:

1. She was on the verge of being fired from the retail job due to tardiness and insubordination.

2. Her flip-flops and crop top didn’t necessarily scream President of the Company

3. She didn’t know how to shake my hand, nor could she make eye contact with me during our first few meetings

4. She had difficulty expressing herself verbally, her speech peppered with ‘uh, oh, um’

I discovered that she had received a great deal of recognition in school, as did her classmates. He parents split up after she left home because they shared nothing in common anymore (“They really did dote on me,” she revealed). I also learned that this young woman was incredibly bright, possessed an awful lot of potential, but had never acquired the tools in order to truly succeed in the world.

I worked with this young woman for a while, and am happy to report that she did eventually get it all together. She’s not a CEO, but seems pretty happy in her mid-level-management position. Had she learned the value of hard work, responsibility, accountability, and good manners while growing up, she could have tackled it all much sooner.

As adults, it’s our duty to provide our children with the proper tools to help them get though life. We must show them that working hard will pay off in some sort of fashion. We must insist they get involved in the community. We must let them know early on that they won’t always be recognized for their good efforts. We must reveal to them that, while they are important to us, they don’t rule the world.

I ran into Mr. Motivation not too long ago. He grumbled a terse ‘hello’ and kept on walking. I’m tempted to write him and tell him his lack of acknowledgment ruined my self-esteem. I’m being facetious; my self-esteem is just fine, thank you very much. I don’t need Mr. Motivation’s accolades.

Beth Newman
Image Consultant/Life Coach
Newman Image
www.newmanimage.info
Look, feel, and LIVE your absolute best!

My e-book, First Style Guide for Girls, is on sale now! Proceeds to benefit Citizens for Animal Protection.

An Open Letter to Parents

Dear Parents,

I must preface this note by admitting to you that I don’t have children of my own. However, after teaching middle school for a good number of years, and because a good portion of my clients are children, I believe I am somewhat qualified to offer the following:

Many of your kids are much too loud in public.

I apologize if you take offense at this, but it’s true, and the rolled eyes and dirty looks thrown your way by others in restaurants, churches, and stores confirms my observations.

Last night, whilst enjoying a burger at my neighborhood spot, several of you sat on one side of the restaurant, and allowed your children to sit away from you. Granted, these children were old enough to sit alone (or so I thought). Those young people were unspeakably rude – their volume was much too loud and their conversation was questionable. You were too busy enjoying your $2 margaritas to notice, but I, and others, did. We were not amused.

A while back, you took a small group of children to one of my favorite haunts. You sat with them, but allowed them to run amok, make messes, and generally create chaos. You also left the mess for the busboy to clean, and I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t leave a tip.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love children – I absolutely adore them. I’ve dedicated a good portion of my life’s work to them. I need some help, though: I can’t teach them proper behavior if you don’t back me up on it.

Most likely, you simply don’t notice their shenanigans, and I understand – they may, in fact, behave far worse at home, and their raucous actions in public are actually a break for you. I gently remind you, though, that your family is not the only one frequenting these places. Please show respect for other patrons by expecting your children to behave in a civilized manner.

Years ago, I had the very good fortune to accompany a group of middle school students to Italy. While strolling through the quiet, lovely streets of Florence, I lost my cool vibe when I was forced to tell one of my students to lower her voice. Her mother stood right next to her as she wailed, moaned, and generally made a spectacle of herself. Mom didn’t say a word, so it was up to Mrs. Newman to do so. Mom then took me to task for not allowing her daughter to express herself.

Please trust me, Mom; no one finds your daughter quite as amusing as you do.

Again, my apologies for the harsh tone. I really do love your children; I simply ask that we join forces to instill in them good manners, and the recognition that the world does not revolve around them.

Kindest regards,

Beth Newman
Image Consultant/Life Coach
Newman Image
www.newmanimage.info
Look, feel, and LIVE your absolute best!