1/30/10:

Posted on 2010-01-29 by Rachel DeMille

I wonder if your experience as a parent is like mine on that point. A broken kitchen appliance, a carelessly used vehicle, another lost jacket....

Sometimes our youth are guilty of esteeming lightly or neglecting to care for what they didn’t have to pay for themselves. I cringe when careless words or actions by one of my children are hurtful to another of them. Don’t they know how much I’ve sacrificed to try to give that little one a sense of love and security? I’ve seen many families go to extraordinary measures (by today’s standards) to try to counteract this commonplace problem in our human nature. It’s not that we’re ungrateful....really. It’s just that we don’t actually GET it.

It has me thinking...

Americans enjoy a legacy of freedom and prosperity that is perhaps without equal in the history of the world. The pride we have traditionally felt over the idealism, vision, heroism, and sacrifice of our Pilgrims, Founders, and those that followed them is a part of our national heritage.

And yet it seems that it is no longer alarmist to assert that we are in  grave danger of losing the freedom and prosperity that were won at so terrible a cost.

Strangely, though, our culture of idealism, heroism and sacrifice is not lost.

Our people still show a great capacity for moral courage, tenacity and altruism. There are still those among us who are willing to take risks, endure hardships and make difficult choices. We still take our hats off when the flag goes by. We honor the sacrifices of our military brothers and sisters; we show compassion to the less fortunate.

Why, then, are we sliding virtually unchecked down the slippery slope of cultural and societal decay?

Why are we losing our freedoms?

Santayana warns that a people that forgets is destined to repeat history. We have forgotten the great stories of how our freedom was won and the principles that they teach. Americans who are so demonstrably willing to labor and sacrifice for the benefit of their posterity can only consent to the destruction of the forms that guarantee our freedoms if they do not understand what freedom is, nor how to maintain it.

In a 1998 survey of teenagers aged thirteen through seventeen, Luntz Research found the following:

• Only 23 percent of American teenagers know that there are one hundred Senators.
• Only 40 percent know that the first three words of the Constitution are “We the People.”
• Twenty-four percent cannot name even one of the three branches of government. Only 42 percent of teens can name all three.
• Fewer than 10 percent know that the Supreme Court case that found separate but equal treatment of blacks and whites in public schools unconstitutional was Brown v. Board of Education.
• Only 25 percent know even one provision of the Fifth Amendment
• Only 26 percent know that the Constitution was written in Philadelphia.

“As bad as kids are with simple historic facts,” wrote Frank Luntz, founder of Luntz Research, “their parents aren’t much better. On election night in 2004, many adult voters found themselves woefully uninformed. Ten percent of voters—VOTERS—didn’t know that the vice president for the past four years was Dick Cheney. Twelve percent didn’t know that John Kerry’s running mate was John Edwards. As for what they did know—only 18 percent could name the majority leader of the U.S. Senate…Remember, this was not a poll of teenagers or American adults as a whole—these were voters on election night.”

By virtually every indicator, America is in steep decline. Public education is in shambles, the national debt is skyrocketing, the family is being eroded, political apathy and economic entitlement are the norm, ubiquitous media outlets have turned us into a “sound-bite”  culture, our political forms are rapidly transforming into an aristocracy. The four foundations of freedom, upon which every republic depends, are crumbling at an alarming rate.

Our remedies must be both immediate and generational. A new American founding—comparable in
vision, foresight and scope to that of the eighteenth and nineteenth century founding—is necessary. And, just as in the 1770’s, there are those in our day who  understand what will be required to effect this change. We are fortunate in our day to have great technological advantages that we believe will enable us to accomplish such a renovation without having to be subjected to the tyranny and violence that cost their generation so dear a price.

We are desperately in need of a Freedom Shift, and I believe that the most powerful way for that to happen
is for our youth to quietly mature into their generational role of leadership with a clear understanding of and a firm commitment to the foundations of freedom.

A few days ago I shared with you an opportunity that is upcoming next week: a scholar class on The Basics of the Constitution to be taught by James Ure. James Ure is one of those, of whom I spoke, who understands what is necessary to effect a Freedom Shift. Let me tell you a little about Mr. Ure.

I first met James Ure when he was a youth—the younger brother of a student of mine at George Wythe College. He was fresh, energetic and idealistic. A lot like your youth, and mine. He had a clear sense of purpose;
he was to be an expert on freedom and the law. To achieve his dream and mission, he sacrificed above the average.

James Ure not only got an accredited undergraduate degree at BYU in order to qualify to attend the law school of his choice, but he undertook the additional time, effort and expense to get a liberal arts education at George Wythe College before he went on to law school. He knew he needed the liberal arts depth and the experience with mission mentors in order to fully benefit from his graduate education. This speaks volumes to me of his character and vision.

As an educator, James Ure is virtually without equal. He worked directly under, with and then independent of
my husband Oliver as an instructor and mentor, and Oliver shared with me many, many times his amazement at James’ abilities in the classroom. “He’s the real deal,” he said to me. High praise from Oliver, especially when evaluating a mentor.

While maintaining a relationship and role with GWU, James took on a new project: mentoring youth. Here he found that his gifts were especially well-applied, and I know personally many parents and youth who felt that their experiences with him were literally life-changing.

I share this all with you because today is the last day to register for the upcoming class on the Basics of the U.S.
Constitution, to be taught by James Ure. This class is 3/4 full, and due to the nature of the material and the format, late registration is not an option. If you and your youth have been thinking about taking this class, please don’t delay. And if you’re not—please consider it.

And if it’s not right for you right now, please consider making a plan to help your family—and especially your youth—to be well-versed in the principles of freedom that will enable them to effect a Freedom Shift in the coming years.

Thanks so much for reading this far! You guys are the best.

Xoxo rd

P.S. Here’s the link for more information, or to register:

http://seminars.wacademy.org/content/constitution-seminar

1/10/10: Core Phase Crochet; or, What my 6-year-old taught me today...

Posted on 2010-01-10 by Rachel DeMille

It’s hard being little. I remember keenly wanting to fit in with all the older people around me. I was the youngest of six kids—and quite a bit younger, at that. The closest in age was four years older, and they went up from there to about 11 years older. No matter how old I was, I was still the baby.

Some people have said I have an old soul. I do remember feeling like I was stuck in a little body. To make matters more complicated, I was interested in adult things and was intellectually and academically precocious. So I in my little fevered mind, I was on-par with the “taller” people around me; they just couldn’t see it.

Why do I share this? I’ve been pondering about my six-year-old, Meri. Actually, she now says she prefers to be called by her full name: America Esther. She called me on the cell phone a couple of days ago while I was at the grocery store and pleaded with me to buy her yarn: “red, blue, green, pink, yellow, purple, orange…did I say red?”

I explained that we had a veritable yarn store right in our own house, and promised to show her to the supply when I got home. She met me in the driveway with impatient expectations.

We chose a nice pink one, I pulled it and rolled it into a nice yarn ball, and she went happily on her way.

Later, while I was doing some work on the computer, she came to me and asked me to help her learn to crochet. I showed her how to make a chain using just her fingers.

Her joy soon turned to disappointment, as her small hands were unable to duplicate my simple moves. I suggested a different activity and she moved on. But I haven’t stopped thinking about it. And I think maybe she hasn’t either.

She wants what I wanted. Validation. To fit in with a houseful of older and much more accomplished people. Shared experiences. Energy, momentum, progress. But in some important ways, she’s not ready or able to do what she sets out to do, and won’t get what she’s after.

I confess that privately I’ve been thrilled and relieved to find her so ambitious to learn to read and write since she was four. But as I watched her fumble with that yarn, I had to ask myself what was driving her to do something she wasn’t ready for—and if it wasn’t a metaphor for many of her other ambitions in general.

She has a need. She’s searching for a way to fill it. And I’ve almost given in to becoming a willing accomplice in allowing her to seek fulfillment of that deep emotional need through doing—instead of being.

I strongly feel that Doing is a part of Being, and an integral part of self-worth and happiness. But I also believe that Doing is subordinate to Being, is an easy substitute and even a counterfeit for Being, and must come as a natural outgrowth of a healthy approach to Being.

Meri is not yet fully morally aware and accountable. I need to counsel with my husband and my older children. We all need to evaluate our conduct toward her and be mindful of respecting and communicating her individual worth without the conditional value of size, age, or ability. I need to brainstorm ways to help her feel a sense of personal power through principled conduct, self-mastery and service.

I need to ponder and learn what portion of her ambition is healthy and appropriate, and what portion of it represents a hunger that should be filled in some other way than what she, in her unseasoned and naïve way, is gravitating toward. I see a hazard that, if everything were to go wrong on this course she seems embarked upon, she might become an over-achiever who seeks outward approval—a pleaser with no sense of personal triumph or altruistic reward.

I need to take more time for cuddles and giggles to remind myself and reassure her that we can connect on a Core Phase level. I need to take more time for laughter and listening to re-energize my own Core Phase. Here’s the rub: if I’m not connecting with my six-year-old on a Core Phase level, I’m most likely missing too many opportunities to connect with the others of the family on a Core Phase level.

That’s quite a wake-up call from a fumbled finger chain.

Xoxox rd

1/5/10: New Year's Resolution: Tackle the Fridge

Posted on 2010-01-05 by Rachel DeMille

Part of my paradigm as a Leader in Training is to be a wise steward of the things in my care. I enjoy hearing good ideas for conservation, recycling and the like, and I thought this one was particularly cute...

From Mother Jones.com:
Happy new year! My first resolution for 2010: Clean my fridge. Which, after a holiday season full of goodies, is kind of an archaeological undertaking. I'm going to compost as much as possible, and when it's not too gross, reuse things in other way. Eggshells are especially versatile. If you have eggs that have passed their expiration date, don’t chuck 'em. Try one of these ideas instead, courtesy of AltUse.com:

Grow seedlings.

Break eggs so that you have about two-thirds of the bottom part of the shell in tact. Rinse out. Poke a hole in the bottom with a pushpin. Fill each egg with some soil, and plant a few seeds in each egg. Place eggs back in the carton. Once the seeds are big enough to plant, put them into the ground, shells and all. The shells will act as fertilizer.

Clean your disposal.

Put an egg or two down your disposal—the sharp shells clean the blades.

Fertilize plants.

Crush five dry eggshells into a powder and add to soil before planting. Since eggs are made up mostly of calcium and magnesium, they're great for plants. To make a liquid fertilizer, just keep your eggshells in a watering can. Add water, soak for several days, then use the water for your plants. Water from boiling eggs works, too.

Scrub pots and pans.

Use crushed eggshells instead of steel wool.

Make better coffee.

Add a few crushed eggshells to your coffee before brewing for a smoother taste. An old cowboy trick.

1/4/10: Music Education: A Very Good Place to Start

Posted on 2010-01-04 by Rachel DeMille

We started our formal informal music training for our littlest kids today. For Kidschool I got out some old music flashcards we had. Didn't use them. That's par for me. I rarely use my resources as the designer intended. Rather, they are a sort of jumping-off point for my own ideas. As I organized those old cards into their numerical sequence (each card is number 1-80, in a rather well-conceived order of instruction), I looked at the #1 card: a G-clef symbol. Like the first note in a major scale, "do," the G-clef symbol seemed likes a very good place to start.

I went to my computer and typed in "g-clef coloring pages" and found a cute one that's sort of stylized with a treble clef sign and a wavy staff. Then Meri (age 6) came and saw that I was printing out coloring pages and so requested some Littlest Pet Shop coloring pages. My first impulse was to tell her we weren't going to do that right now, but noting that this is her present passion, I paused just long enough to consider how this might be the making of a good kidschool. So I went ahead and printed her requested pages as well.

Then we went and did a song and prayer, followed by a brief discussion around high voices and low voices. Meri offered that a whistle is a high voice; a pony's whinny is high, while a bull's moo is low. A car motor is low; a kitten's meow is high. I was seated on the piano stool during this discussion with my back to the keyboard, and whenever I imitated a voice, one of my hands would reach back to the keyboard and play the corresponding rumble or fun in the respective low or high register.

I then changed gears briefly to relate that Meri sometimes tells me stories. If we find a particular one "special," and want to remember it for later retelling, it is wise to write it down. i then sang a scale. I pointed out that a scale is made with my voice, just like the words in a story I tell, but that the letters in the alphabet aren't the easiest way to remember a melody. I explained that musical notes on a page exist to retell musical stories.

We did some more discussion and volunteering of the types of voices that we could write in the treble clef. Then I passed around the coloring page and asked them to color it however they wanted, and use the blank areas of the page to draw their own ideas of the kinds of things that would have their melodies written in the treble clef--both literally or symbolically. A mermaid; a window with light streaming through; pretty much any one of the Littlest Pet Shops [;-)].

Now we're going to color princesses and Littlest Pet Shops--and decorate them with treble clef signs all over.

I wonder what tomorrow will be...

rd

12/29/09: Wow. Twenty Years.

Posted on 2009-12-29 by Rachel DeMille

Today is the twentieth anniversary of my marriage to Oliver Van DeMille. I'd do it again, every day, for all of those twenty years. Has it been challenging? Absolutely. Do my other married friends have challenges? Yes, they do. Do my unmarried friends have challenges? Yes, they do. I think life's challenging no matter what road you walk; I'd rather walk with Oliver, whereever that leads. He is the love of my life, and the fulfillment of my greatest dreams.

It's been quite a ride. Our life is something of an open book to anyone that has an interest in knowing our stories. Between us we've written about our early childhood education, our parents, our youth, our college years, raising our children, our professional life, our triumphs and failures, our gifts and our deficits, our yearnings and our convictions. We promised each other long before we knew our life would be shared that we would be true to the sense of mission we had inside, and this sense of purpose has been a binding force in our family and a steadying influence through our trials and successes.

And our friendship has endured through it all. He is still the one I most enjoy listening to; his smile is the one that most lights my heart. We laugh together, we cry together; we're silly and strange, we're contrary and prideful; we're worn out and weary, we're empassioned for what comes next.

Our children bring us great joy and demand that we're constantly seeking inspiration in order to be all we should be for them. We do not often feature our deep personal convictions, although they are easily inferred, I suppose. On this twentieth anniversary I would state unequivocally that our Father in Heaven has bountifully blessed us and ever kept us in his care.

The recent past has brought for us changes that have refined our direction and our focus. We are as excited as we have ever been for the work we are doing, and we look forward to the new projects that have suggested themselves. We are so grateful for friends who have stood with us, and supporters who have invested themselves in their own sense of mission. I see great power for good coming to bear as great numbers of individuals are true to their "calling."

Twenty years. The close of two decades.

But it's also year one of the next two decades. Bring it on.

xoxox rd

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