I was thinking today about what I'd tell my kid (If I had one, and I don't really plan to) about sex. A lot of people would adjust what they'd say (a friend of mine says she doesn't want to have a boy, because when she told him "don't have sex" he'd be like, "but I really really want to!") according to gender, but I think I'd have pretty much the same message either way. I'd discuss the actual mechanics of it when they were pretty young, and explain that it's not something children should be engaged in (and let me know if some adult tries anything with you so I can cut his or her genitals off. Mom ain't playin'.) In middle school I'd discuss the risks of disease and pregnancy, and give all the info about ways to prevent said risks. I'd also emphasize the need to be emotionally mature when you have sex, and that they simply haven't reached that point yet. I'd also add my own ideas about morality and sex - mainly that sex has consequences, though not always to you. You and your partner may say that you're just in it for experimentation and fun, yet one person is more emotionally attached, and gets very hurt. I'd let them know that many people have believed that marriage the only place for sex, and I'd explain the good reasons for that assertion (the idea of limiting ultimate physical connection to a relationship in which you experience ultimate emotional and mental connection, is to me, very valid - the idea of being sincere in the expressions of your body.) and the not-so-good reasons for that assertion (the idea that sex is merely a vehicle for procreation, that sex makes one "impure", etc.). Finally, I'd tell them that an ideal situation, in my eyes as a parent, was for them to wait until young adulthood (over 18) to engage in sex (ANY kind of sex, and I'd spell out all behaviors that I as a parent consider sexual), to wait for the maturity that comes beyond the teenage years. However, I'd make it clear that they need to choose their own opinions, morals, and behaviors where sex is concerned. I'd point them to various literature to read about it. I'd point out where misinformation can be found - I'd spend a lot of time (not all at once, but whenever we encountered such in pop culture) debunking myths, and talking about things their friends might say about sex that might not be true. Most of all, I'd urge them to think for themselves, not to use sex or even lack of sexual activity to have more status with their friends, save a relationship, etc.

Damn, I would be an annoying-ass parent. Good thing I'm not planning on taking on that role.

What is rich? Can you tell me...

Today NPR's "Talk of the Nation" was doing a show about wealth, and how people define it. How rich do you have to be to be considered wealthy? Is it about an actual monetary value, or opportunities? Most people in our country, even the very rich, consider themselves "middle class" though this has more to do with values and lifestyle than actual net worth.

Several people called in to share their stories regarding wealth - here's mine. I grew up in a single parent household; my mother was a secretary at a small construction company. My father paid no child support, though I did have very generous middle class grandparents who helped in many ways, including provision of day care and much of my college tuition. I lived in the increasingly affluent D.C. suburbs, and went to the best high school in my county (shut up, Frederick High grads, it was!), and most of my friends' parents were scientists or teachers. My mother considered any family that had two incomes immensely wealthy, especially if one of them had a well-paying government position (many did in our area). These families, of course, did not consider themselves "rich", many of them had moved here from the even more affluent New Jersey suburbs, and had several children to raise with their middle class salaries. Their kids wore hand-me-downs, and they shopped for bargains at the grocery store just like we did. Still, my mom considered them "rich", because we faced problems they might never have to face. I was largely embarrassed by her feeling that we were somehow at odds with my friends' families, this class-warfare-type idea that they would never understand us.

When we went out to eat, we left the bare minimum for a tip, and always asked if there was an extra charge when we wanted more guacomole, cheese, or whatever. I was taught by hanging out with my friends' families that this was completely tacky behavior in a nice restaurant. What I didn't realize was that my mom was only able to take me out to eat, and provide similar luxuries, by watching out for tiny details and small expenses. I was mortified when she groveled to the gas company (after mom missed ONE payment, and the heat was turned off), even dissolving into tears, to try to lower the $200 reconnect fee. How ghetto are we, I wondered, that we have to cry about $200? Isn't our dignity worth just sucking it up and paying the bill? Mom carefully contrived such a convincing middle-class upbringing for me that I didn't know we didn't have the choice.

The first time I really realized that there was a difference between me and most of my classmates was when we learned about the economic "classes" in honors high school history. Our teacher drew a chart on the board, which showed the household income requirements for entry into the upper, middle, or lower classes, and their subdivisions. He pointed into the middle-middle class, and said that most of our parents' incomes probably fit into that category, with some of them fitting into the upper-middle. Many students agreed , and there was even a show of hands to see who fit into the middlest-middle category. I didn't raise my hand, and noticed that I wasn't even a contender for the lower-middle - I fit firmly into the lower class. It was like having a dirty secret - as we discussed the hardships of the lower class, looking down with sympathy, I had to conceal the fact that I was one of the unwashed horde we spoke of with such concern.

I don't tell this story to engender sympathy, but to explain why I think that an individual's description of "rich" depends entirely upon his or her own situation. In this amazingly affluent country, we never describe ourselves as rich, but we're quick to point out whom of our neighbors qualifies for the title. The fact is, I've had a college education, have traveled to Europe, and have a considerable network of family and friends to call upon should disaster strike. This is more than what most people in the world have had - in these ways, I'm quite wealthy. Sure, I've been disadvantaged in some situations, mostly relating to gender or economic class, but my advantage was knowing that these practices are unfair, and that they are subject to change. Many people who have been far more severely disadvantaged do not realize or believe they can fight injustices, but I've been priveleged enough to have that rarest of commodities - hope. All and all, I consider myself one of the wealthiest people on Earth, because statistically, I am. And also because true wealth is perspective.

60 seconds of soul-searching

So last Sunday in church, the pastor preached a very interesting sermon about "finding" oneself. Now, a lot of folks shy away from this concept in church, because it's so self-centered, so individualistic (in liberal churches, you're supposed to be learning how to be more selfless and community-minded), but he couched it in a really good way. He suggested that we all be quiet for a minute, and close our eyes and try to think about where our greatest desire meets the world's greatest need.

(try it - your minute starts.....now!)

Of course, he said if your greatest desire is to write deodorant commercials, it might not fulfill any of the world's greatest needs. The idea is to use your intuition to see where the two might intersect.

It was an interesting minute for me. The insight that I received is that the world needs another truth-teller. One of those people who gently, persistently, tells the truth despite the opinions around her. I also received the insight that the world does NOT need another angry woman, railing against injustice. Oh there's a place for publicly-expressed outrage, and many people I admire practice that. But there's far fewer people right now trying to reach out to those who don't agree. To speak truth to ignorance and misinformation, in a way that connects, not divides, that's what the world needs.

Also, it's quite a mandate. Good thing it wasn't two minutes of silence!

All eyes on.....Iowa?

Many people find it odd that that Iowa hosts the first U.S. presidential primary, given its modest population, size, and let's face it, complete irrellevance to anyone outside of the state. But here we are - we're stubborn, hardy, a little fat, and IN CHARGE OF THE FATE OF THE WORLD.

I learned something even more surprising this weekend - most Iowans don't caucus. In fact, a very very teeny tiny minority do. And if my trips to campaign rallies have convinced me of anything (and they truly haven't been very convincing), it's that politically active Iowans are, shall we say, eccentric.

Take the guy at Senator Biden's* rally last night:
Guy from sensibleiowans.org: What we really ought to do, is reinstate the draft. That'd end the war quick!
Actual sensible Iowan: You can't really have a draft with our modern military. They're a professional force - takes 'em a couple of years to learn the technology to do their jobs.
Guy from sensibleiowans.org: Or make college kids all sign up for a year! That'd get all those rich parents on the phone with their senators!
Actual sensible Iowan: If you were in the military, would you want somebody next to you in Iraq who didn't want to be there, and who didn't know his job?
*weirdos at Sen. Biden's rally are expressing their own opinions, not Senator Biden's.

Or at Sen. Edwards' rally last week:
College student to friend with digital cam: Did you get a shot of his pretty blue eyes?

That's right, America - your leader will be chosen by the oddballs of Iowa. Oh yeah - and me.