He may not look sexy, but because he’s French he is sexy. Mait Oui!

As if we didn’t already gnash our teeth over the fact that French women don’t get fat even though they eat cheese and French children aren’t picky eaters and French men are just really good at bringing the sexy even when they look like Gérard Depardieu. Now we have to contend with the fact that French children don’t get ADHD.

Even though this article was written last year on PsychologyToday.com, it just appeared in my Facebook newsfeed last night so I read it. The first line had me intrigued: ” In the United States, at least 9% of school-aged children have been diagnosed with ADHD, and are taking pharmaceutical medications. In France, the percentage of kids diagnosed and medicated for ADHD is less than .5%. ”

How can that be, I wondered? In a nutshell, it’s because Americans define ADHD as a chemical imbalance where the French see the disorder as a result of environmental factors. Please read the article for yourself and assess the author’s argument. Personally, I think it is a slippery slope and kind of careless to suggest that French parenting — aka superior parenting — is the reason French kids don’t have ADHD. Because that argument then implies that American parenting is so bad that we have spawned a generation of kids with severe mental disorders.

That being said, as a true meltingpot mama, I’m always open to learning how other cultures raise their children, especially if they seem to succeed in ways that we Americans consistently fail. Of course, nobody is perfect. And no single culture has a lock on perfect parenting and this seemingly constant holding up of the French as ‘perfect’ can be annoying. And please don’t get it twisted. I’m not hating on the French. Naturellement pas!  I’m just annoyed with the silly Americans who think emulating the French will solve all of our problems — from belly fat to annoying kids. Come on, people.

Okay. I am done. If you have anything to add, you know I’m listening.

Make it a great Monday.

Peace!

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie & Ms. Meltingpot. BFFs forever!

Hi Meltingpot Readers,

If you follow me on twitter, then you know I’ve been gushing about my new author crush, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. I even love the lyrical sound of her name. I just finished reading her brand spanking new novel, Americanah and then had the pleasure of introducing her when she came to speak to a packed house at the Free Library of Philadelphia on Tuesday night.

The book is so good. I mean, it’s really good. But it’s not just any old good book. It’s meltingpot made in heaven. Americanah is a love story, but it’s also an exploration of race and culture in the United States and abroad. The characters are original and unique and yet comfortably familiar. The setting hops from East Coast United States to Lagos, Nigeria to London. The writing is sharp and funny and incredibly insightful. And the best part is, the book pays a lot of attention to Black hair politics, both here and in Nigeria.  Did I mention I loved this book? All 477 pages of it.

If you generally enjoy the books I recommend here on the Meltingpot, then I guarantee you’ll enjoy Americanah. But if you’d like a more nuanced and critical review, check The Guardian or NPR.

Me, I’m now going back and reading Adichie’s earlier works, starting with her award-winning short story collection, The Thing Around Your Neck. Oh, how I love falling in love with the written word.

Are any of you Adichie fans? What’s your favorite book? Have you watched her TED talk about the Danger of a Single Story? It’s just one more reason why I think she’s marvelous.

That is all.

Peace!

If you know me then you know two of my twin passions are Black hair and Spain. Not necessarily Black hair in Spain, but you could imagine my excitement if somehow these two topics somehow came together in some kind of magnificent event. And guess what? They did. Sadly, I wasn’t involved in any kind of way, but I’m still happy.

Apparently, almost twenty years after I first set foot on Spanish soil, a suitcase full of hair care goodies — from boxes of relaxer cream to an arsenal of electronic gizmos meant to flatten, curl, dry and fry — to maintain my hair in a country devoid of a Black hair industry, there was a giant Natural Hair Fiesta in Madrid this weekend in honor of American natural hair blogger, Curly Nikki. Check her website for the pictures of this most awesome party, but pay attention to all of the beautiful brown faces and fabulous hair. This is 21st century Madrid and I love it. And this wasn’t a one-time hair party. GoNaturalSpain is actually an active group of naturalistas in Spain, who celebrate their ‘Afro hair’ on a regular basis. And I love the fact that the group was actually started by a Black woman and her (white-ish) Spanish husband. Woot! Woot!

Ms. Meltingpot is in shock and awe (and is sad she’s not going to Spain this summer). Viva la Afro. Viva España!

Did you know I was supposed to be a teacher, not a writer? In college, after earning a C in my first creative writing class, I decided writing wasn’t going to earn me a living. Because I was only 18 at the time, yes I cried and cursed the fates that I couldn’t follow my passions, but in a short amount of time I simply decided I would find some other profession where I could use my many talents. After a summer working at a camp for Milwaukee’s disadvantaged youth and coupled with my insane love for children, I decided I should major in education, teach in the classroom for a few years and eventually work my way up to becoming the secretary of education so I could overhaul the entire public education system in America. Yes, I always dreamed big.

So, in the beginning of my sophomore year of college, I declared my major in education and did everything I could to learn about childhood development, alternative education, the history of public schooling in the United States and teacher training. When I left for Spain for my junior year, I made sure I’d be able to take education classes at the University of Salamanca so I wouldn’t fall behind with my major requirements. And everything was going fine until Spain seduced me with the idea of rekindling my love affair with the written word. Something about having all of that siesta time to consider what I really wanted out of this life, as well as all of that leisurely time to put pen to paper, I came back from Spain determined to try again at writing. And you know how this story ends. Writing has been very good to me and for me. But guess what, there’s still a teacher inside of me.

So, I land at Temple University for part two of my professional life. And while being on tenure track means I have to publish, publish, publish, I also have to teach. And dear readers, I love it. I am finally in the classroom where I always suspected I’d be able to make a difference in a young life. Yes, I always envisioned my students to be younger, but I actually really like teaching college students. They’re poised on the brink of starting their lives and really need good teachers. I work really hard at being a good teacher but like writing, it’s something I enjoy so the hard work doesn’t hurt.

And here comes the sweet part of this story. Yesterday, at our final all-school faculty meeting, I was given the school’s award for excellence in teaching for a junior faculty member! The award is a simple, but lovely plaque but it meant so much to be honored for something I almost feel called to do. It felt good.

And now I must return to publish, publish, publish.

That is all.

Peace!

Coming Feb. 2014, Hair Story 2.0

Hi Meltingpot Readers,

In case you’ve been wondering what I’ve been up to — besides my usual combination of teaching, parenting and blogging —  and you want to know how I’ll be spending the next two months of my life, I can now officially report that I’ll be writing the updated version of my first book, Hair Story: Untangling the Roots of Black Hair in America.

In all honesty, my co-author and I launched HairStoryOnline because we hoped to attract the attention of our publisher and convince them that it was worth our time and their money to publish an updated version of Hair Story, considering the original book came out in 2001. And guess what? It worked. Just in time for Black history month, that’s  February 2014, a new, updated Hair Story: Untangling the Roots of Black Hair in America will be hitting a store shelf near year. And it will finally be available as an e-book too. Yippie!

What this means for me is that for the next six weeks I’ll be furiously researching and writing about the last decade of Black hair excitement, that is the good, the bad and the ugly. Chris Rock, Don Imus, that cute Muppet. It’ll all be in there. If you have any suggestions as to what I absolutely must include in this new version of Hair Story, please leave a comment. As always, I’m totally listening. And if you’d like to add your voice to the book’s content, pop on over to HairStoryOnline and fill out our brief questionnaire about Black hair in American popular culture.

Peace & Happy Hair Grease!

Sorry it’s been awhile. The end of the semester is hitting me hard. But I couldn’t resist posting this story I just saw on the Tell Me More website. It’s about this young Black American woman who is making a name for herself singing gospel music in the Hmong language. It’s a totally feel good meltingpot story. Check it out.

Peace!

Parenting is hard. Can we all just admit that? If only our kids were just mini replicas of ourselves, perhaps we’d be better prepared to handle all of their issues. Because their issues would be our issues. But they’re not. Our kids come into this world with their very own brand of special. Case in point. I’m trying to raise brown boys to be confident and proud of their dual Black American /Spanish heritage. And I am neither a boy nor am I Spanish. And el esposo, while he does claim both male and Spanish on all of his identity papers, he isn’t brown. You see where I’m heading with this?

My sons will be perceived in this country as some sort of Black and I’m happy about that. But I recognize that because their father is Spanish and looks white, they don’t have an in-house role model on which to base their Black identity. And I’m not saying they have to discard their Spanish-ness, I’m just saying they need to have some sort of positive role model to understand Black male identity as they figure out their hybrid selves.

So my idea, at this point, is to just make sure my boys are exposed to all kinds of Black males who are diverse in their thinking, cool in their style, and doing interesting things in the world. With this plan in mind, I took my older son to see Baratunde Thurston, the author of How to Be Black, speak at the Free Library of Philadelphia last week. My son was less than thrilled when I told him he was my date for the night and he scowled on the entire 20-minute drive to the library.

But by the end of Thurston’s hilarious presentation however, which wasn’t exactly geared towards an 11-year old’s interests, my son was smiling and declared himself a Baratunde fan. And I can see why. Thurston is young enough for my son to think him cool. He’s smart, hilarious and he used a lot of pictures in his presentation. But probably most importantly, he wore a hoodie. To my son, that was the true symbol that this guy was the real deal. I’m kidding. But it probably helped. The best part of the evening occurred while we were standing in line waiting for Thurston to sign our book. My son looked at me and declared, “I’m Black.” I had to hold my laughter in because he was serious. But he repeated himself and said it like Thurston’s lecture sparked an epiphany or a revelation that being Black was actually pretty cool. I didn’t press the issue or ask my son to clarify. I just gave myself an internal pat on the back for doing the right thing.

Clearly my work isn’t over on the identity building with my kids, but I look forward to more experiences like this. Unlike my own childhood where my parents allowed me to figure this all out on my own, I want to give my kids a useful set of tools to carve out their  identity. I want them to build an identity that incorporates all of their parts into a satisfying sense of self.

Anybody else working on identity building with their kids? What tools are you giving them? I’m listening and taking notes.

Peace!

So, a couple of weeks ago there was an opinion piece written in the New York Times by a childless man who had some choice words for parents. Many people thought he was out of line for criticizing today’s parents for being too permissive with their children, when he’s not a father himself. Not me. I agreed with almost everything he said. Dear readers, I will be honest when I say that I am appalled more often than not by what I see as a trend of parenting where parenting has come to mean, letting your children do whatever they want. It might just be me, but it seems like today’s parents have forgotten how to use the word, no. As in:
“No, you may not just eat pasta for dinner, you have to eat vegetables too.”
or
“No, you may not have a cell phone, because you are only eight years old and you don’t need a cell phone.”
or
“No, you may not watch that movie because it is rated R and is inappropriate for someone your age.”
or
“No, you may not wear shorts/that mini skirt to school because it is too cold/your butt cheeks are showing.”

Me personally? I have a tween who is entering his rebellion phase and a toddler entering her tantrum phase, so no is the most popular word in the house right now. I use the word no at least 10 times a day. In English and Spanish! My son rolls his eyes at me when I make him take his shorts off in the middle of winter. My daughter flings herself on the floor when I take the permanent marker out of her hand. But guess what? It’s easier to say no now then it will be when they’re bigger and stronger and the dangers are much worse than cold knees and a ruined wall.

And at the end of the day, despite how many times I say no, my kids still love me. In fact, I’d dare to say they actually like me on most days. And I like them too because they are enjoyable to be around. They’re not spoiled. They’re pretty well behaved and they know that no, means no. Most of the time.

What about you dear readers? Are you afraid to say no to your kids? Why or why not? Have you even wanted to help a fellow parent learn the beauty of the word no? What happened? I’m listening.

Peace!

P.S. If you have an extra moment, check out HairStoryonline today for an awesome interview with a female photographer who has created an exhibit on the refutation of good hair.

Last night I stayed up way past my bedtime because I had to watch The Intouchables. I actually paid money to rent a movie instead of my usual library loan system. But boy am I glad I did. The Intouchables is truly one of those films that makes you want to embrace life, celebrate the beauty in your fellow man and maybe try your hand at sky diving. Seriously. And to top it all off, it’s in French. Everything, even cheesy movies, sounds better in French. I’m not saying the movie is cheesy, but given the subject matter, it could have easily fallen into the cheesy genre. But it most certainly did not. Even el esposo liked it.

The Intouchables is the story of an unlikely friendship between an insanely wealthy white French man who is paralyzed from the neck down and the African immigrant he hires to be his caregiver against the advice of his family and friends. I won’t say more, except that you should run not walk down to your local video store and grab a copy. The best part is, the movie is based on a true story. Even more reason that after you see it, you want to make sure you’re really living this life, every single second of it. Here’s a peek at the preview.

Peace!

What do you know about Louis C.K.? I admit I didn’t and still don’t know much except that he is a comedian, he has his own show on cable, and that even though he looks like a White American, he’s actually Mexican. I’ve read a few things about him here and there and always meant to look him up, but I haven’t. Until now.

To be honest, I didn’t really look him up, my friend just sent me a link to a story about him in Colorlines. That story is actually just a heads up that C.K. will soon be gracing the cover of Rolling Stone magazine and in that story he talks a lot about his Mexican roots. But the Colorlines piece also includes a clip of the comedian on the Tonight Show with Jay Leno. He had some really funny, yet incredibly insightful things to say about race in America. Check it out and then tell me if you’re a Louis C.K. fan and if you think I should be. I’m listening.