In 2021, I wrote, “As Perimenopausal Women with Power Tools neared its pub date in spring, 2020, I envisioned a book release party. In addition to a short reading, there would be food, drink and conversation—a tribute to the lively evenings my characters shared throughout the book.”
Nearly three years after PWWPT made its quiet entrance into the world, I’m on the cusp of realizing that dream. Please join me on Thursday, May 4 at 7:00 p.m. for a Perimenopausal Women with Power ToolsAnniversary Celebration and Reading at Fact & Fiction.
Some of you will be with me in spirit.
My two biggest fans will partake from their celestial vantage points.
Grateful for all of you, I’m reminded of additional words from that 2021 blog post: “My parents modeled flexibility and resilience. They also taught me the art of friendship.”
I rediscovered two messages from my parents in my Log -o-Life. My “baby book,” its four-page index implies a long and productive life. Numerous pages are incomplete. Some are not applicable, like “Doctor of Philosophy Diploma” and “Military Record.” Others reference experiences that slipped by, unrecorded: High School Activities, Transcript of College Credits, Publications, and more. The Middle Age Photo page is blank. And though there are seven pages for autographs, there is a single entry. Laurie Antonietti – 11/10/69.
My parents penned their notes on my dad’s forty-first birthday—November 25, 1968. My mom was thirty-seven. Written to a preadolescent baby boomer, their words are precious. Many are timeless.
“The game of life is a challenge. Especially for your generation. Play it fair and always play it to the best of your ability. Retain your faith, be charitable to all and refuse to do wrong.”
“Stand by your convictions and what you have been taught and know what is right – always be charitable to all – and honest with yourself and others, and just always do your best.”
My dad has been gone three and a half years.
My mom, on the cusp of her eighty-ninth birthday, lives at Touchmark, a senior living community. COVID-19 restrictions have limited her interactions with family and non-Touchmark friends. Aside from a pair of respites piggybacked onto medical appointments, she has had one outing since March. Following a doctor visit three weeks ago, she waited in the car while I ran into Target. She needed laundry detergent, but I had to remind her she could not go into the store.
When I returned to the car, she said, “A lot of people aren’t wearing those things…I can’t believe it.” She pointed to her mask. “We might have this for the rest of our lives.” She sighed. “Do you think they’ll be able to have the wedding?”
“I don’t know,” I replied.
Mom’s memory waxes and wanes, and sometimes she struggles with words. But she remembered something about the pandemic. And her thoughts swung to the granddaughter who had already rescheduled her wedding once.
When I reread these words from long ago, I was reminded of our conversation in the Target parking lot. If my dad had been in the car with us, he would have echoed what my mom tried to say.
Missoula held a screening of “Race to Nowhere” during the Replace the Race Nationwide, March 2014 campaign, thanks to the Missoula Forum for Children and Youth, MCCHD Suicide Prevention, MCCHD Tobacco Prevention, Potomac School District No. 11 and United Way of Missoula County.
This powerful documentary about our education system and its challenges presented much food for thought. As I sat in the darkened theater, I was moved by the film and its message and jotted down the following:
The Blessing of a Skinned Knee
Six hours of homework a night. Plus soccer.
Looks good for colleges.
He is all about learning to take tests.
People get caught up in the race to nowhere.
Kids are our leaders. Without creativity, they are not going to be prepared to lead us.
Play is a critical part of a child’s growing mind and growing body.
Blue Man Group founder: “Why can’t we have happiness as important a metric as reading skills?”
What does it take to produce a happy, motivated, creative human being?
“If every day there wasn’t homework, he would love school.” Mother of a 4th grader (in response to a special “no homework” day).
There were numerous gut-wrenching comments I didn’t write down. A fourth grader talking about stress-induced stomach aches. A high school student saying she didn’t eat because, by not eating, she could concentrate so much better. Conversations about drug use—Adderall to stay up, sedatives to come down; about cutting; about not sleeping, or sleeping only a few hours; about over-scheduled students of all ages; about suicide; about stress-related ER visits and hospital admissions; and about teacher burnout. It was heartbreaking to hear passionate, skilled educators speak about the pressures to teach toward test results, critical thinking skills be damned. Sadly, but understandably, our system is pushing some of these educators out.
Students spoke about the stresses imposed upon them by parents, by teachers, by the pursuit of admission to “top schools.” I was reminded of a conversation I had with my younger son at the beginning of his sophomore year. “Why don’t you join Key Club? It’d look good on college applications,” I said, certain the latter would be a selling point. He replied, “How many times are you going to tell me that?” I made a silent pledge that would be the last.
And it was.
According to a recent Washington Post article, “Local [McLean, VA] school board representative Jane Strauss says she is routinely contacted by parents asking how to prepare their 2-year-olds for a test to get into the Advanced Academic Program for gifted students in third grade.”
Is this what we want for our kids?
I don’t think so.
I do know this. When seniors come into our high school library to get signed off this June, I won’t be asking, “What’s on your horizon?” I don’t want them to think I’m assigning values to their lives-beyond-high-school. And whether they’ll be taking time off; joining the workforce; or going to a community college, a state-funded university, a private or an Ivy League school; my wish for them will be the same. “Congratulations. Take good care.”