Ancestral Pride
Mamacita says: Our ancestors took enormous pride in their children’s education. Many of these ancestors had little if any education; in the various old countries, it wasn’t possible for many reasons. It was too late for most of the adults; they had to earn a living, but they focused on their children. Their children were going to be educated, by gosh and by golly, no matter what the parents’ sacrifices might have to be.
When their kids came home from school with new ideas, and books their parents couldn’t understand, quoting people other than family members and religious leaders, questioning the old ways and contradicting their elders, these parents beamed with pride because it meant their children were becoming educated, and educated people question things.
“This child was born of parents who can read and write. To me, this is a great miracle.” — Mary Rommely, from “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.
How far we have fallen from the true purpose of education. We have parents who are desperately afraid of their children knowing anything they don’t already know and approve of. This. . .. . is worse than tragedy. We are going backwards. We have people who are afraid of knowledge. We have people who fear learning lest their set ways be challenged. These people will destroy us all. Our ancestors, who sacrificed their own education and lives that their children and grandchildren might learn, are turning in their graves from shame.
Learn Some Context
Mamacita says: Context, people. Learn some context. No no NO. No updates, edits, modernization, political correcting, adding, eliminating, changing, gender swapping, romance insertions or removals, relationship changing, etc. If you want a story that suits you better, write a new story or stick to fan fiction. Stories that are already written are carved in stone.
I don’t necessarily “approve” of everything I voraciously read, and sometimes I love a book, sometimes I don’t, sometimes it’s meh, sometimes it’s awful for any variety of reasons, but whatever my reaction, it wasn’t my story to tell, or yours, and what the actual author wrote should stand inviolable. I’ve rewritten many novels – in my head – in my lifetime and will no doubt rewrite many more to suit myself, but the very idea of changing someone else’s story to better suit someone else and stop all future publication of the original, actual story? Blatant thievery. Learn about context, for all our sakes.
One of My All-Time Favorite Mothers
When she found out that her son was being disruptive on a daily basis, she came to school in a ratty nightgown and robe, hair in rollers, and filthy bunny slippers. She sat by her son in every class, walked him through the halls holding his hand, sat by him in the lunch room, played volleyball with him in PE, and never stopped the very audible toddler-level sweet talking.
She promised to do this every time she got a call from the school.
The kid never gave us a bit of deliberate trouble again. Turned out to be one if my favorite students. To paraphrase Anne Shirley, I like best the ones who COULD be bad, but choose not to be. Most complete turn-around ever.
