SUMMER ACTIVITIES FOR KIDS? PRETENDING.


"LET'S PRETEND"

Summer is here and many children will spend much of it in wonderful, enriching camps and classes. Lucky kids. And other lucky kids will just putter around their yards pretending. “Let’s pretend” were the words that commenced most of childhood play for generations. With rich imaginations children created exotic and fantastic worlds in which they were the main players.
            Empty packing boxes became all kinds of little shops and vehicles.  A line of chairs in the dining room became a bus or train. A bedspread thrown over a sawhorse became our tent on the Amazon.  In our own attic was a box of fancy dresses, suits, hats and old jewelry. We became Mom and Dad or duke and duchess.
            I have nothing against the kind of “enriched childhood” many parents are trying to create. I just don’t want kids to miss the richness that comes from their own unique imaginations.
            When I see the Kindergarten children in a school where I'm the psychologist with baskets of dress-ups in their play area, I am grateful. This may be one of the few places where these developing minds get to exercise the capacity to imagine. Too often these days children’s imaginations are hijacked by television or by toys that require a specific story line.
As children we often had as much fun making our toys as we did playing with them.  When I wanted to play secretary, I spent an entire afternoon making a typewriter from a little black box and circles of paper that I carefully cut out, labeled with appropriate letters and glued on the box. When we wanted a swimming pool we spent a whole day digging a hole, placing a tarp and running water.  All for about 30 minutes of splashing.   Our mother had suggested the location of the "swimming pool" and a few days later a big lilac bush was planted there. (Guess mom had a little imagination too.)
            Children still have these impulses and with a little unstructured time will organize an activity, create and pretend. My daughter was one of those children who absorbed all the tape and cardboard in the house into her creations.  One year I gave her a shoebox filled with tape, scissors, cardboard etc. as a Christmas gift.  She loved it, managed to use it all up in short order and continued to gather the tape from her parents' secret hiding places.
            I became convinced that one of the ways we encourage imagination is by tolerating messes. Sometimes the imagination of my children resulted in chaos in the living room, where every stuffed animal and piece of doll equipment became part of some elaborate setting.  I must confess that it was often tempting to just let them watch cartoons because it created less mess. On the other hand the mess created from too much media can be in their heads rather that on the living room floor.  Much harder to clean up.
Some children are natural directors in pretend plays. "You be the princess, and you be the horse and you be the dad." My daughter was one of those directors, and to be allowed to play with her and her friends she would tell her little brother, "You be the monster". It's hard to know what impact her training had on him, but there were times when he played that role too well. Fortunately he escaped the type casting and is now the most wonderful grown son a mother could want.
Toys that have multiple uses and, even better, time in the great outdoors can spark the “pretend potential” in children. I hope every child gets to make mud pies at some point in their childhood.  Even pretending with them can help. I’m certain that our now grown children became the creative cooks they are because of the hours we spent pretending to be restaurant patrons and ordering wildly exotic dishes. 
One of the best friends of imagination is boredom. We have to let kids be bored every now and then and let them find inspiring materials around to create there own fun. In these critical times we need rich imaginations to solve our many problems and equally important to bring joy and laughter into the world. Even if it means more messes in the living room -- it's a small price to pay.

FATHER'S DAY FOR BIG BROTHERS


Guest Commentary: Little 'fathers' can have a gigantic impact on little lives

By Dr. Susan DeMersseman, Oakland Tribune My Word © 2014 Bay Area News Group
UPDATED:   06/10/2014 02:36:52 PM PDT




There are many fortunate youngsters who have a father in their lives. One who is available and able to provide the support and guidance that is part of that role. There are other children whose fathers are either unavailable or unable to provide that support.
For years I worked in a community where the presence of a father in the family was not the norm.
For reasons of health, incarceration or economics, many children did not have the luxury of that guidance and attention. This role was sometimes filled by others. Pastors, coaches, teachers, mothers and grandparents have often stepped in to fill the role. But in other families, big brothers served that role with amazing love and maturity.
I have watched with admiration as big brothers escort little siblings to school. In the morning, you can see them checking the little ones' backpacks, adjusting their jackets and then going off to their own middle schools or high schools. I've watched them pick the younger ones up after school and walk them home, often holding a tiny hand regardless of who could see.
These little fathers have risked appearing uncool, as they pass through their neighborhood with younger ones in tow. Some do it with such a sense of responsibility and dignity that they rise above any peer judgment. They may even inspire more admiration than they realize.
In stores, I've watched them hold and take care of the little ones while their mothers took care of the shopping. At home, these big brothers may be combing hair and fixing breakfast while mom works an early shift. At some schools, older siblings serve as translators to help the parents in teacher meetings and other communications with the schools.
These young men must correct, encourage and even dry the tears of little ones. They may not always have done it with perfect patience, but they have done it.
When Father's Day comes around, when those younger siblings are grown enough to appreciate the gift, I hope they will thank that brother for being a little father. Since it might be a long time before those little siblings recognize the gift, I hope there are those in the community who will acknowledge in some way the contribution these young men have made in their families and in the larger community.
While these little fathers are taking care of their responsibilities, it may seem as if they don't have a choice. It may seem that it is just what they are supposed to do, but often what we are supposed to do is also something very special.
So to those little fathers, many of us see you and we know how important you are even if you don't, and so we wish you a happy Father's Day.
Susan DeMersseman has spent more than 30 years as a psychologist in the Oakland schools. She is a resident of Berkeley.

Mental Health AND Guns



It's heartbreaking that some articles continue to be relevant. This one from the Christian Science Monitor eight years ago is again. The current case in Santa Barbara will find those who seek solutions from both approaches -- fewer guns and more mental health awareness.

Both matter.

It's not too late to stop the next teen shooter

By  / March 31, 2005
BERKELEY, CALIF.
A youngster in Minnesota shot and killed a teacher, classmates, and himself last week. Shocked, Americans are wondering, "How could such a thing happen?"

Yet his story will soon fade from the national news. When the next shooting occurs it will be dredged up and included as background along with the previous three or four.
But what about the potential next shooter? What is going on with him right now?
It's not unlikely that right now, in a school near you, elements of this dangerous social equation are building.
There is a child who feels left out. He is often teased by other kids who don't realize how deeply their words cut. He doesn't have the maturity to know that his tormentors are just thoughtless, miserable adolescents, too.
The boy - because, it seems, it is almost always a boy - doesn't have the family support or sense of self worth to deflect the teasing. When he goes home after school, he is usually alone.
He has grown to love angry music. It makes him feel a little better to connect with the power in the performer's chants of rage. His unresolved grief transforms into the rage he admires. He wants to feel angry. It feels less weak than the sadness. The boy fantasizes about getting even - about showing "them."
Some days he thinks, "I'll grow up and be so successful, famous, and rich." Then they'll be sorry that they ignored him or put him down.
But he lives in a world that does not value long-range solutions - even when they're the right ones.
It may take too long to find a way to relieve the pain - the media he surrounds himself with seem to offer a quicker fix.
The people who are making money from the music, video games, and movies he hears, plays, and sees refuse to question the content or accept the ways they affect the boy.
Instead they go about their business providing training in immediate, sensational "solutions." They provide heroes for the boy, never mind that they are antiheroes.
And, the boy has access to a gun!
But it might not be too late for him.
Events like the Red Lake, Minn., high school shooting last week (10 left dead) and the Columbine High School massacre in Littleton, Colo., in 1999 (15 total dead) cause people to wonder what could have been done to prevent this.
We need only look at the history of the last few for clues.
There could be a teacher who is willing and able to see through the façade to the pain; another student who might stand up for him; a neighbor who might notice him and find a way to help him feel worthwhile; a family member who might stop and realize that the cover of self-reliance is so thin.
Maybe there is someone who reads the paper every day and worries about what the world is coming to. This person might stop wringing his or her hands and start looking more closely at young people and find ways to help them navigate through their difficult periods, in these difficult times.
The story of the last shooter has been written.
But the story of the next shooter is still not finished.
It may not be too late for this child or for those he could destroy in his chaos of pain. It might not be too late for one of us to make a difference.
• Susan DeMersseman is a psychologist and parent educator.

GRADUATION SPEECHES -- COMMENCEMENT ADDRESSES


A Graduation Speech for the "Average" Student


Honor those hard-working grads who didn't quite make it to Harvard

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By Susan DeMersseman / May 24, 2004
BERKELEY, CALIF.
Graduation season is here. Soon millions of students will be leaving for college or other pursuits. But I wonder how some of them will be affected by the speeches and awards at their commencement ceremonies?
I, along with other relatives and friends, have listened to hours of speeches and watched dozens of the 4.0's come up to the stage for award after award. As I've watched the faces of those not called, I've wondered what it must be like to be a solid "C" student, or one who struggled to hold on to a "B." Did those "average" students feel that, after all the hoopla for the award winners, their fate of mediocrity was sealed?
As I sat through one of the longer events, I started composing an address for those "other" kids:
Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests, congratulations to the valedictorian and the 4.0's. I wish them well, but this is for the rest of you.
You're not off to Stanford or Harvard. Maybe you're going to community college or state college, or your second or third choice. Or maybe you're going to try something different. Good for you! You are all about to do great things. Ahead of you are opportunities for success that you haven't even imagined yet. Maybe success by worldly standards; maybe success by your own standards.
I have one piece of wisdom to share. Much more of our future than we sometimes realize is a matter of chance, and a lot is what we make of those chances.
You might, for example, get a part-time job with a landscaper, find that you love it, and go on to create beautiful environments that bring joy and pleasure to others. Your college roommate's dad might own a business that gives you a summer job, and you might end up running the company. Or you may find the only class that meets a requirement one semester is "Geography of Water" - and you get hooked and eventually design clean-water systems for developing countries.
One of my favorite sayings is, "God laughs, when man makes plans." I don't mean don't plan. But some of those perfectly planned 4.0 lives may take unexpected turns and so will yours. Be ready to make the best of them. The doodles that always got you in trouble may be the groundwork for a cartoon series, the design for a new building, or might enhance the lessons for your future students.
One of those 4.0's might find a medical cure for cancer. But you might find a cure for loneliness. One day you might comb an old woman's hair into a neat little bun, push her wheelchair to a spot next to her favorite rosebush, and listen as she tells you about her garden.
Whoever you were on Commencement Day, whatever others expected of you - well, that's done. Now you get to reinvent yourself. If you were always the super-neat one, you get to loosen up. If you were the class clown, you get to try being serious.
Treat every class as if it's important. You never can tell. Even if you don't become an astronomer, that astronomy class that filled a requirement may turn out to be valuable. You'll acquire study skills that will help you in the next class. Or some star-filled night you may lie on the grass with your children and teach them about the wonders of this universe.
Have faith in yourself. Most wonderful, successful people never went to the stage for an award. Many were a lot like you. They kept their minds and hearts open, found a niche, and made the most of it.
So can you. Congratulations.

Mother's Day


If you are a father or if you know of a mother who is without a spouse or without the father's support, one of the kindest things you can do is to help her children celebrate her day. It's so good for kids to understand that not everything is about them and to experience the incomparable joy of making someone else  happy. In the process of preparing something special for their mother children learn how to put themselves in her place and create something that speaks to her desires. The following article addresses the different languages that express love -- from a new hedge trimmer to a walk in the park. For a mother  who might not expect a celebration of some sort it will be an even greater joy. 


What Mother's Day language do you speak?

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By Susan DeMersseman / May 6, 2005
BERKELEY, CALIF.
I know there are some women who would be very unhappy if they received a new hedge trimmer for Mother's Day or some other special event. I am not one of those women. I would instead be upset to receive an expensive bouquet of roses. But I realize there are women who feel exactly the opposite.
Understanding these differences has a big effect on relationships, understanding that there are many different languages of love.
I like to bake, but my husband, who is not fond of sweets, would not hear, "I care about you," in a batch of freshly baked cookies. He might appreciate the thought, but he would be much happier to get me out of the kitchen and off to a hike in the mountains.
We can learn to hear "I care about you" in someone's gesture, even if it is not in "our language." Over the years we learn that each person has a unique way that they express affection and love, and each person has a unique set of gestures they perceive as loving. Understanding on both sides makes it work.
At first, I didn't hear "I care for you," when my husband washed my car. Originally I thought, "I can just run it through the car wash." But then I realized that it was important to let my husband speak his language of love to me and equally important that I read it that way.
Gifts and gestures that express caring vary so broadly. One friend shared that her preferred combination of loving gifts and gestures was as follows: any high-tech add-on to her computer and someone to follow her toddler around and pick up all the clutter.
My own objection to expensive bouquets is not to flowers. I love flowers, but I am a gardener and an annoyingly practical person. I would rather have a plant for the yard. Once in a while, I do appreciate the gift of a certain perfume, but wonderful gardening tools are my real luxury. And even more wonderful - someone to follow me around and pick up the clippings as I prune.
As a mother, I have found wish lists a good way to help with translating these unique languages we have. My Mother's Day wish list always includes the request that the sometimes-unsweet siblings will be sweet to each other.
The first wish list included what I wanted for dinner. From that wish list, my family developed a traditional Mother's Day menu to speak my language. And just as important - though I do not like breakfast in bed - I "oohed" and "aahed" when my children were little and graced me with this honor. Breakfast in bed is not, in my language, a loving gesture, but it was in theirs and so it was important to "hear" and understand their language.
This comprehension of others' emotions even when not perfectly expressed is maybe the most loving language of all.
To this day, I remember the way that my father raved about the weird little salads that 5-year-old me served him on jar lids. One of his "favorites" was crumbled up saltines on shredded carrots! I love that he understood my language. His language was the understanding.
• Susan DeMersseman is a psychologist and parent educator.