stance 2

Stance f o r t h e fa m i ly

Founding a Future: The Plight of the Refugee Family in Utah See page 6

A Family of 21 See page 8

Two Tips for Teens with Troubled Parents See page 10

“There is no doubt that it is around the family and the home

that all the greatest virtues, the most dominating virtues of human society, are created, strengthened, and maintained.”

—Winston Churchill

Christina Maurine Lyons Photography Fine Art Portraits

508-918-0813 christie.m.lyons@gmail.com

Features

6 Founding a Future: The Plight of the Refugee Family in Utah 8 A Family of 21 10 Two Tips for Teens with Troubled Parents 12 Grandfathering: Poppi Days Memoirs

In the Community

5 Heading West: Family Vacation Spots

4 Raising Caterpillars 21 My Family’s Fall Fest

In the World

20 Obamacare, Working Moms, US Education

In the Home

16 Monitoring Technology in the Home 17 Moms on the Clock 18 Love Languages: Speaking Your Child’s Dialect 19 Italian Roots: Traditions that Unify the Family

Book Reviews

23 Peace Like a River by Leif Enger 23 You Don’t Need a Title to Be a Leader

by Mark Sanborn

In the Kitchen

22 Sour Cream Cake: A Not-So-Family Recipe

Staff Academic Advisor Editor in Chief Managing Editor Magazine Editor Associate Editors

Assistant Editors

Design Director

John P. Livingstone Emily Smith Aimee Hancock Melissa Hart Rebecca Hamson Jenna Hoffman Jill Hacking Ashley Holmes Katie Parker Lauren Prochelo Jerrick Robbins Lindsay Sandberg Michelle Lyons

Articles express the opinions of the authors alone and not necessarily of Stance as an organization, Brigham Young University, or the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Unless otherwise stated, all photography and illustrations are in the public domain.

Do you have comments, compliments, questions, or concerns? Contact us at sftfmagazine@gmail.com

Stance for the Family is a student-run organization at Brigham Young University dedicated to publishing material that promotes the institutions of marriage and family. Connect with Stance through our blog www.stanceforthefamily.byu.edu, our Facebook page BYU Stance for the Family, or our Twitter @BYUstance.

Raising

Caterpillars

by Aimee Hancock

Caterpillars are fascinating creatures. They start as slightly creepy worms that inch around, eating who knows what. The way they inflate and deflate like an accordion is mesmerizing. Then one day they aren’t moving at all but are enclosed in a cocoon like a long, green grape hanging from a vine. Finally, the cocoons crack open, but the caterpillars are nowhere to be seen.

Instead, beautiful butterflies stretch their wings for the first time and flutter off into the sky.

When I was a little girl, I raised caterpillars. At least, that’s what I like to say. They were going to turn out okay without me, but it made me feel important. My mom was the one who first got me and my siblings fascinated with caterpillars. It eventually turned into a family obsession that led to many memories.

Every camping trip we would trudge through the woods hunting for caterpillars. My mom showed us how to look carefully through the milkweed to find them on the undersides of the leaves. I would pull the leaves off the stem to expose the milk inside, catch the drips with my cupped hands, and place the leaves with the caterpillars on them in a paper cup with about half an inch of water in it.

I found all sizes of caterpillars, from little guys smaller than the width of my pinkie fingernail to fat guys bigger than the width of my palm. I liked the little ones the best; you could still see the yellow, black, and white pattern on their skin, and I thought they were really cute.

We would take our new friends home and show them their new homes—each had its own fish tank filled with dirt and twigs and a lifetime supply of milkweed. They littered our house, taking up all the counter 4

and table space. The record for the most caterpillars we caught in one season was fifty. I would spend hours watching my caterpillars. Sometimes the bigger ones freaked me out when they came right up to the glass and seemed to look me straight in the eye. I really don’t know what they did for entertainment. Scooting around the bottom of the habitat and up and around the twigs seemed to be their favorite activity.

The best part about the caterpillars was when they turned into butterflies. After they had eaten the entire supply of milkweed and become really fat, they would attach themselves to a twig and hang in a j shape. A few days later, they would be in pea-green cocoons with a few golden spots near the top that looked like a zipper the caterpillars had used to settle into the cocoons. The whole house would seem quiet, the caterpillars were so still. I wondered what they did inside. Some major magic secrets, that was for sure.

A few weeks later, Mom would wake us up in the wee hours of the morning and drag us out into the kitchen. We would all peer into the habitat and see a cocoon open. Bit by bit, a butterfly would emerge from the fragments of its cocoon. It would hang, a wet and rumpled monarch, until its wings had dried. Mom would then take the habitat outside, take off the mesh covering, and the butterfly would fly away.

This part was always sad because I had named them all. We were the only family they knew, so I wondered how they would be happy out in the great big world by themselves. Now whenever I see a monarch butterfly, I like to imagine that it is one of the ones I had raised, coming back to say hello. ◆ S ta n c e

for the

F a m i ly

Heading West :

Family Vacation Spots Leavenworth Washington

Visit a Bavarian village without leaving the country!

Leavenworth, Washington, is full of charming German shops, decadent food, and gracious hosts dressed in lederhosen, combining Bavarian charm and Northwest hospitality to make your vacation as wonderful as possible. You will truly feel willkommen (welcome) in Leavenworth! ◆ Jerrick Robbins

Science Museum

Jelly Belly Factory

The Oregon Museum of Science and Industry (OMSI) is an adventure for all ages. Housed in the museum are a variety of interactive exhibitions where classroom science comes to life. Situated on the banks of the Columbia River, the museum owns the submarine used in the movie The Hunt for Red October and provides tours and overnight stays onboard. There’s something new to learn and try on every visit! ◆ Jill Hacking

Go behind the beans at the Jelly Belly factory in Fairfield, California. Every fifteen minutes tour guides lead groups on a free forty-minute walking tour. Through the giant windows, you will be able to watch what it takes to make the Jelly Belly sweets. The tour ends with free samples.

When you leave the factory, you’ll leave with a full brain and a full belly. ◆ Aimee Hancock

Oregon

W i n t e r 2014

California

5

Founding a Future

The Plight of the Refugee Family in Utah

by Jenna Hoffman

Through the thick smoke of the cook fires, the refugees watch the sun sink one more time below the horizon and wonder what tomorrow will bring. The mothers worry that their children didn’t get enough to eat. The fathers are anxious about the dangers that the darkness brings. The children are plagued by nightmares of the horrors they’ve witnessed. Life in the camp is routine, disorganized, and unstable. The days are long; the fear is almost palpable. And since there is certainly nothing to salvage of the past, the refugees cling to a fragile hope of the future.

The number of refugees in the world today is estimated to be 15.2 million. In every corner of the world there are people who have been driven from their homes—whether by natural disasters, civil unrest, violence, or political turmoil. Seeking safety, these people leave behind their possessions and make the long journey to a neighboring country that may or may not grant them passage. When such vast numbers of people are displaced, it becomes necessary to establish emergency settlements, or refugee camps. But these camps present a whole new set of problems. There is housing to erect, food to distribute, family members to reunite, disputes to settle, and order to maintain. Parents may strive to create some semblance of normalcy for their families, but the reality is, life as a refugee is a far cry from the way they used to live.

In the past few months, the United States has had an influx of international refugees—especially from Iraq, Somalia, Burma, and Bhutan. Fleeing war and conflict in their native countries, hundreds of these people have made their new home here in Utah—specifically the Salt Lake area.

Catholic Community Services (CCS) is an organization dedicated to assisting those in need in Salt Lake City. Their Refugee Resettlement Program was specifically designed to help international refugees assimilate to American culture and learn how to become 6

self-sufficient. CCS uses case managers and volunteers to help refugees find housing and employment, learn English, and reestablish stability in their lives.

Aden Batar is the director of immigration and refugee resettlement at CCS and was once a refugee himself.

In 1994, Batar’s relatively comfortable life in Somalia changed forever when he fled the civil war with his family. He ended up in Utah, where he continued his education and worked while trying to make the adjustment to life in America with his wife and children.

Batar is grateful for the help of the community during this time. He says, “I just needed a hand up, not a hand-out. Without the support of the community, [my family and I] couldn’t have done this.”

Because of his own experiences, Batar is adamant that the community is crucial in ensuring a smooth transition for refugees. Gerald Brown, director of Utah’s Refugee Services Office, agrees. He counsels, “Every refugee has a story that’s just amazing—take the time to get to know them. The best thing you can do for a refugee is befriend them. That’s how we become a decent community. That’s how we become a decent world.”

Even small gestures like smiling or saying hello can go a long way, and although there may be significant language and cultural barriers, friendships can still be bridged. Ask any of the CCS volunteers.

“I’ve never seen any volunteer complain about communication,” says Batar. “These volunteers have a life-changing experience.”

In addition to the distress they’ve already experienced, the refugee family faces a variety of new struggles upon arrival in Salt Lake City. Many of them come directly from refugee camps, where chaos reigns and abuse, hunger, and fear are pervasive. In the camps, parents struggle to meet their children’s basic needs. Life is lived day-to-day. Ambitions, goals, and dreams are stifled by the struggle to simply survive.

As soon as the family deplanes, they are bomS ta n c e

for the

F a m i ly

barded by a completely foreign culture. Everything is different—the language, the people, the weather. Most of the refugees know nothing about Western society.

They don’t know how to live in an apartment setting, how to navigate the public transportation system, or how to buy food. The basic world knowledge we take for granted and use to complete everyday tasks is alien to them.

This is where CCS comes in. Volunteers and staff from CCS greet families as soon as they step off the airplane. Batar says this is crucial because refugees immediately see the people waiting for them and think, “Wow, there’s already a community helping me here.”

The families are taken to a furnished apartment where they are given a hot meal and taught how to use the appliances. The next day, after they’ve had a chance to rest, they are brought to the intake office to sort out social security, food stamps, and other paperwork. A community orientation follows, in which refugees are taken through the ins and outs of the education system, healthcare, and local employment opportunities.

Refugees are hard workers—they will take any job that is offered to them. After six months, most of the families have settled into the American way of life and are essentially self-sufficient. They have found employment,

W i n t e r 2014

their kids are in school, and they are comfortable in their community. If after this time the family is still struggling to make the adjustment, CCS refers them to other organizations that will provide additional support. The goal CCS has for each of its refugee families is for them to be capable of sustaining their own livelihoods.

Batar insists, “All we want is [for] the refugees to feel welcome—like they’re part of this community. We want them to see that somebody cares. It provides relief.”

He continues, “Every day is rewarding for us. Every day we’re making a difference in people’s lives—touching people’s lives. We’re always there for them and it’s amazing for us to see people thriving through the system.

And then they come back to us and say, ‘Thank you for saving our lives.’ ” Even though their pasts have been marred by conflict and violence, refugees are just people looking for a better life for their families. They’ve made the journey here because they care about their futures and the futures of their children.

Batar tells his own children, “I did not take this road for myself. I took this road so that you can have a better life. Get the education you need. Take advantage of everything this country has to offer. Don’t make excuses.

I did it; you can do it too. There is no room for failure here.”

International refugees have experienced things that most of us could never imagine, and although they have been marked by the atrocities of war, the struggles of poverty, and the uncertainty of resettlement, there remains much to be said of their resilience. These are the people who have witnessed some of the worst that the world has to offer and yet these are the people who are still desperately and unconditionally committed to preserving their families. While the family is a valued institution throughout the world, perhaps it is the refugee who understands the virtue of the family the best. ◆ 7

A Family of 21

by Rebecca Hamson

Norma Barton had been raising her eight children alone They looked at practically every house in the area and every floor plan they could get their hands on, but for over three years in southern Utah when a friend convinced her to pick up stakes and move. Just three blocks nothing seemed quite right for a family of nearly two dozen. But, as Dean recorded in his journal, “We both down from her new house in northern Utah lived Dean Wengreen and his wife, were of the opinion that Margaret, until Margaret should go ahead and She was a widow and he a widower— we get married, and work out passed away in a tragic motor accident one stormy they had twenty-one kids in total. our problems later and together.” After a simple night. Then a widower himself, Dean strove to raise his own twelve children wedding, things began to fall into place for the newly established Wengreen-Barton family. Norma and Dean while working to support them.

Norma and Dean met at church and began dating, decided to move into Norma’s home. In order to meet fire codes and keep everyone mostly sane, they made and then, eight months after Margaret’s passing, they multiple additions to the house. decided to combine forces, for better or worse. Norma had never even considered the idea of remarrying after But the additions didn’t stop with the house. About ten months later they had a baby, making twenty-one her husband’s death, but something about Dean had just felt right from the very beginning. children in all.

8

S ta n c e

for the

F a m i ly

On their honeymoon, the happy couple decided to stop at a theater showing the 1968 film Yours, Mine, and Ours. After watching the show, Dean wrote, “I told Norma that I doubted that there was anyone at all who could appreciate and enjoy this movie as much as we did.

He had ten children and she was a widow with eight. So we were two up on them.”

Once when asked by her daughter Jann how she did it, Norma simply responded that she’d made a commitment. This commitment meant gathering around their long makeshift table that spanned two rooms to eat meals together. It meant loading up into two station wagons to go camping and hiking for family vacations.

It meant providing much of their own food by hunting, gardening, and raising livestock. It meant including God in all they did and meeting together for a morning devotional before breakfast each day. Dean once wrote, “I believe that we as two families are making our adjustments as we go along. This baby has helped, I think.”

Although Norma has since passed away, the legacy of Dean and Norma lives on through their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. ◆

The Wengreen-Barton family’s example of commitment stands as a beacon in a world where having families seems to be just a suggestion and commitments seem to be just empty words.

W i n t e r 2014

When Spencer’s first-grade teacher asked the students to draw each member of their family, he just sat there until the teacher asked why he hadn’t started yet. He responded, “I’d be here all day if I did.”

When fifteen-year-old Shelley was assigned to write about her family, she wrote, “Ours was the only house in town where you could drive by and see the family at the table eating, and when you looked in the next window you could still see part of the same family eating.”

Dean noted one instance when life really was cheaper by the dozen: “We took the children roller skating. It cost ninety cents each or three dollars a family. We took fourteen children. It cost us three dollars for the sixteen of us.”

Privacy was rare and sleeping space was often shared. One of the boys set up camp in a portion of the garage in order to have some space. During the warm summer nights, some of the kids would take turns sleeping on a bed on the back patio. They even had a little shed on the edge of the property that some of the boys would occasionally sleep in—the bed shed.

9

Two Tips for Teens with Troubled Parents

by Cynthia L. Hallen, Associate Professor of Linguistics at Brigham Young University Many teens are living with seriously troubled parents.

One or both parents may have a problem with a serious mental illness, often undiagnosed and untreated. Parental mental health problems may have led to discord, divorce, and other major difficulties that affect every member of the family.

Growing up with a mentally ill father had a large impact on my social and academic life, especially during my teenage years. My parents divorced shortly after my graduation from high school, but I did not realize the impact of our family troubles until many years later.

Even though the death certificate mentioned schizo-

phrenia when my father died a year after the divorce, it took time for me to understand the burden of living with a seriously troubled family member. As my understanding has grown, I have developed a few survival tips for young people who carry that kind of burden.

Although these survival tips are for teenagers, the thoughts that I offer may be equally applicable to older adults who have lived with seriously troubled parents in the past. For those whose parents are or were mentally ill, these two tips may be helpful to you and your loved ones: talents and talk.

Tip 1: Talents You have talents. These talents are keys to happiness because they unlock the doors of your soul and enable you to reach out to others.

Some of your talents may be obvious to others. You may be physically gifted, with great athletic ability or dexterous manual skills. You may be mentally quick, with keen financial instincts or brilliant intellectual insights. Or perhaps you are aesthetically sensitive, with a natural love of beauty or superior artistic competence.

Some of your talents may be subtle. Others may feel the effects of your listening ear even if you don’t notice it as a splendid gift. You might be your mother’s right hand when she is trying to deal with your father’s depression, or you may be your father’s sunshine when he is trying to care for your anxious mother.

You may do just the right thing at just the right time to help others.

Our talents help us overcome our weaknesses and overlook the weaknesses of others. For example, a wise mentor once counseled me to overcome negative 10

thoughts by using my gift for words to reduce my feelings of intense inadequacy. Following her advice, I wrote a poem that created a haven in my soul for my childhood self: Safe Place Medieval-me walks with infant-I, Hand in hand, below the sky, Where rabbits pause with clear brown ears, Then rush to hide from our best fears.

The adult-I asks the little-me What other places we’d like to see: The mica mountain, the lawn of birds, The house where light creates new words.

We pace ourselves around the track With other families, front and back.

The childhood-I asks the grownup-me What other places we must be: S ta n c e

for the

F a m i ly

The cottage steps, the Sundance trail, The spirit world beyond the veil, Andean plains, the Nordic lands, The beach where waves erase old sands.

The angel-me sings with aging-I, Voice with voice, earth to sky, Along the fence, our friends appear, One by one, ear to ear.

The poem won a prize in a contest for “Teachers as Writers,” evidence that my way with words could be a channel for sharing light in spite of my weakness.

Using your talents will help you serve others and feel successful. Acting upon your strengths is a direct manifestation of gratitude to your parents and other ancestors who gave you the gift of life. As you identify your strengths, you will be able to better cope with life’s challenges.

Tip 2: Talk Although I received good grades in elementary school and started high school with straight As, I often felt stupid and lazy. My parents’ marriage continued to crumble during my teenage years, and my grades slid lower and lower. I began to hang out at the park or at parties with other young people, many of whom were also trying to survive in families with troubled parents. Although we had family dysfunction in common, my friends and I rarely talked about the violence and arguments at home.

Silence was part of our survival.

After my parents’ divorce and my father’s sudden death during my first year of college, I began to recover my academic standing. Although I passed my classes and later excelled in some of my university courses, I still felt an invisible barrier of limitations. I earned a bachelor’s degree and then a master’s degree, but I carried a burden of inexpressible insecurity in my social relations and in my academic performance. With the help of good roommates and wise counselors, I began to develop more confidence, but I still felt that I was a failure.

It wasn’t until I returned to graduate school for a

doctoral degree that I found a safe place to talk about growing up with a schizophrenic father. One of my professors referred me to a campus counselor, who recommended that I attend the weekly support group Adult Children of Alcoholics. As we talked, the leader of the group taught us to recognize typical reactions for children who grew up with adults who were abusing alcohol. I began to understand that my father had used alcohol as a means of self-medication for the symptoms of his schizophrenia. As we verbalized our experiences, I learned that it is common for adult children of troubled parents to feel lazy or stupid, because they are emotionally paralyzed by past traumas. Self-condemnation and lack of confidence are typical patterns of thought for survivors of family grief.

Talking about your experiences in appropriate settings with trusted mentors or friends will help you heal and will also help to heal others. As you talk, you may discover that what you see as your greatest flaw is actually evidence of incredible strength in the face of unbearable hardship, like the battle scars of wounded warriors.

Call to Action As a veteran of the distress caused by parents with mental illness, you may be superbly qualified to lead others out of despair. As you become aware of friends who have backgrounds similar to yours, consider organizing a support group for teens of troubled parents. Make a

W i n t e r 2014

list of tips based on your insights. Share your talents and talk with others to overcome the difficulties you have faced as you tried to help and understand your troubled parents. ◆

11

Grandfathering:

by Steven Walker Grandpa’s garden grew onions as big as my hand, so temptingly tasty that, one June morning, I couldn’t resist eating my four-year-old fill. Though I couldn’t figure out how Grandma knew I’d been stealing onions, I soon understood only too well how emphatically she disapproved. Grandma, who could be a stern Sherman tank of a woman, ran over my feelings so thoroughly that about all that was left of my bruised soul was the stench of onions.

Grandpa found me sitting on his lawn, my head between my knees, consigned to the lowest level of four-year-old misery. He sat by me and used his pocketknife to peel a crabapple in one unbroken spiral, and then he shared it with me. He told me Grandma was right to warn me against stealing; stealing is always wrong. Then he told me I hadn’t stolen those onions.

Grandpa said before I ever ate them he wanted to share them with me. They were, for Grandpa, as much my onions as his, and I could eat as many as I wanted whenever I wanted—and he was glad I had.

Grandpa might not even know he readmitted me to the human race in that moment. I doubt he’s aware he persuaded me that day that, despite my stupidest mistakes, my worst evils, and however despicable I may be, I will always be his friend. He showed me how love can heal, even when someone steals, even when someone stinks. When I was struggling to learn what life is about, Grandpa hugged me until I realized love matters more than stolen onions, more than anything.

My brother and I are convinced that our grandfathers—his on the paternal side, mine the 12

maternal—are our guardian angels. There are still times, half a century after his death, when I feel my Grandpa Charlie very near. But even if Grandpa Charlie isn’t literally my guardian angel, he is illustratively my guardian angel, because he taught me that I am lovable.

For all the clear evidence against my lovableness, Grandpa taught me love so well that once in a while even I understand that I am loved.

Some insist, with good reason, on integrity as the bottom line of character; some vote for discipline.

C. S. Lewis once said, “Courage is not simply one of the virtues but the form of every virtue at the testing point.” His point being that courage is the primary virtue because it enables us to do the right thing. But it seems to me that compassion more often motivates us to do right thing. For me and, more notably, for Jesus, this central law of love is so crucial that on it hangs everything else that matters (Matthew 22:37–40).

There may be nothing that matters more than teaching children than that they are loved.

This necessity of teaching children that they are loved makes grandparents pivotal. My experience both as a grandson and as a grandfather makes me think that no one is in a better position to teach love to children than their grandparents. Parents are closer, but they labor under pressures of proximity and familiarity and the necessity of tough love in daily discipline. Parents suffer certain generational drawbacks: “The reason grandkids get along so well with grandparents,” an astute observer of family dynamics in my neighborhood observes, “is that they share a common enemy.”

S ta n c e

for the

F a m i ly

That strategic advantage empowers grandparently tutelage in the art of love. We get so many opportunities; we tend to see the kids at their best, under celebratory circumstances, showing off their newest skills for us, and free from their usual constraints of chores, homework, and mundane expectations. Grandparents’ time with grandkids tends to consist of open invitations to loving, and we’re naturally good at it. We’re eager to reinforce every positive possibility, to encourage the most tentative steps and the clumsiest words. Our very souls yearn for their cheeky impishness, without reason and beyond sense; we love them not because they might grow up to be president or because they carry on the traditional family eyebrows but because we can’t help it.

I can’t help whispering in my grandson’s ear, as a secret between us: “I love ice cream cones. I love the park. But most of all, I love Owen.” They know it’s true, too; Owen knows I love him more than anybody, in an “Owen” sort of way. And in the same way, I’m pretty sure, every one of the other grandkids knows—even baby Johnny, stumbling toward me in his eagerness to be thrown into the air.

The trick is to spend enough quality time with each of the grandkids to make sure they know they are loved.

“Quality time” translates, in grandparent terms, to “fun time.” This puts grandparents in a position to teach love (in some ways) better than parents. If grandpar‑ ents invest time with their grandkids in an effort to say “I love you; I genuinely enjoy being with you,” celebrating works better than tending, playing better than managing, indulging better than disciplining, and W i n t e r 2014

sharing better than teaching.

The moral imperative takes fortunate form: Have as much fun as possible as often as possible with your grandchildren. There are more ways to carry out this imperative than there are grandparents; the only ways that don’t work are the ways that are work—but there’s magic (or at least unforeseeable satisfaction) in grandparenting the way you like to grandparent. The focus of grandparently fun for me has been afternoon adventures.

They started on Wednesdays, because I was tending the then-youngest granddaughter, Eliza, while her mother worked on her master’s degree. After a while, I realized Eliza and I could either stack the blocks again, or we could go out on the town—and we both preferred the latter.

After a few of those celebrating-instead-oftending outings with oneyear-old Eliza, I realized that, if there were more of us on these road trips, they could be merrier!

So I began bringing my three other granddaughters along, and we switched to Fridays for earlier starts. Soon those afternoons be­came part of their routine and became what we now call Poppi Days—because they called me Poppi. (Easily tired, I appreciate the full-day credit for a half-day effort.)

It’s surprising how quickly little family habits grow on you, and regular time together transforms into family traditions. More than one grandchild has cried when we had to miss a Friday, and I’ve come close to doing the same. One week when I had to travel, and I felt so bad about missing our weekly adventure that I stopped by the night before to drop off compensatory treats. When I arrived, I learned that the girls had already set aside leftover Poppi treats in a little can in anticipation of the 13

missed day. Our get-togethers, lighthearted as they are, matter to us.

Certainly, there are days I wonder why I take Friday afternoons off from pressing professional matters, but there has seldom been a time when, after a Poppi Day, I haven’t felt that it was the most important thing I did all week—and the most fun! God knew what He was doing when He made grandkids so irresistibly charming, so immeasurably fun that you can’t help having fun with them.

My original motivation for these weekly afternoon outings was to free up time for daughters and daughters-in-law: A few easy hours invested by me pays off threefold for them in scarce time resources. It’s a win-win situation for grandparents: You have the time of your life while you’re cutting your children some much-needed slack. But the real motivation, I soon found, is the grandkids—they are so entertaining!

As any grandparent will affirm, grandchildren are the reward for having suffered through children. (My older brother assures me that if he’d known how much fun grandkids would be, he would have skipped the kids altogether.) Grandchildren are gifted at having fun and are far more creative than their grandparents. Activities that I dream up are just okay, but when we go where the kids want to go and do what they want to do, we have real fun.

My goal with Poppi Days is simple: With this fun, I want to impart as much practical love into their little souls as I can. I want to be like that father in the parable of the prodigal son—not a tough lover, nor even a wise 14

one. I want to love my grandkids overindulgently; I want to spoil them shamelessly; I want to share more fun with them than we can stand; I want to play stupid guitar songs like “There Ain’t No Bugs on Me” so hard that my fingers fall off while they dance so wildly that they drop.

Poppi Days tend, like The Princess Bride, toward true love and high adventure. Even the worst ones are memorable, and I chalk everything—mishaps included—up to lessons in loving. As I see it, grandparents’ most sacred function is to have the time of their lives in down-and-dirty-loving while spoiling the grandkids silly. It’s handy that to do that is to indulge yourself, too, by having the best possible time you can manage. I would promise you that spending time with your grandkids is likely to be the best time you’ll ever have, but if you haven’t tried it you won’t believe it, and if you have, I don’t need to persuade you.

Anyone who spends time with their grandchildren already knows how much fun it can be.

I’m not saying grandkids are all sweetness and light; there’s more mucus involved than I’m comfortable with, more diapers and vomit, and there’s altogether too much tearing around and yelling (though sometimes there’s so much quiet from a certain granddaughter that I worry she would be happier reading a book). I’m not saying it’s ever easy with grandchildren; grandkids in packs can be a logistical nightmare, and without the oldest granddaughter, who is fortunately twice as good at handling kids as I am, I wouldn’t have lasted through the first Friday.

What I am saying is that that when you make it less of a duty and more of a joy, it will always be fun.

There was no hint of moralizing when Grandpa taught me love; Grandpa’s healing of my onion-thieving guilt was just a matter of sharing a slick apple-peeling trick with me, which somehow eased me out of solitary confinement and back into humanity. When Poppi Days are celebrating instead of tending, playing better than managing, indulging rather than disciplining, and sharing more than teaching, love is not too strong a word for what happens.

A dozen years ago I polled the grandchildren about their favorite Poppi Day and asked them, “What’s the most fun you ever had in your life?” The two-year-old, verbally noncommittal, seemed to prefer suckers at Maceys. The three-year-old, bless her sweet heart, said her favorite Poppi Day activity was “to talk to Poppi.”

One six-year-old said the zoo, the other six-year-old bowling. The nine-year-old voted for the dinosaur museum. The eleven-year-old favored Discovery Park.

S ta n c e

for the

F a m i ly

I was pleased by the variety in those preferences, pleased even more that four of the preferred activities were among the last five we’d done together—five of the preferred activities if you count the talking, which there tends to be a lot of, and often with all twelve grandkids speaking at once. Some of the happiest moments of my life (the sweeter for being so frequent) are when I hear “Grandpa!” followed by a chorus of chatter from the backseats—or the title that makes me feel I’ve really arrived as a grandparent: “Grandma.”

But we don’t do Poppi Days so regularly any more. And there’s a moral to that story: Catch them early. Growing families, increasing peer connections, multiplying piano lessons, soccer matches, and homework assignments gradually erode the time available to grandparents. This erosion is inevitable, but we should probably think as Wordsworth thinks: “We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.” Early and frequent interactions among cousins results in a family connectedness that continues to bind them together even when actual interactions wane to increasingly infrequent holiday gatherings.

Our happiest instincts urge us toward family togetherness. I want to love my grandkids like my Grandpa Charlie loves me. That’s what Poppi Days are for, for me: active loving. I want to look love into their eyes every time I get the chance. I want to take advantage of every chance to really listen to Megan or Hayley or Kelsey or Eliza or Emme or Owen or Christian or Brandon or Aaron or Jason or Johnny— even all at once—not just because what they say warms my heart but because I want them to know that somebody wants to hear it, assure them that somebody wants to listen to them.

The best thing about being with my grandkids is how little duty there is in it: I want to yell with them on sledding slopes, I want to laugh with them at jokes with a punch line like “Boo Who,” I want to sing “Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Mate” with them until we can’t sing any more, and I want to enjoy with them whatever they’re enjoying in the never-ever-again moment.

I want to love those little souls until it’s clear to the most thickheaded among us that somebody loves each of us totally, loves each of us as much as Grandpa loves me, loves every annoying thing about us, loves us inside out and upside down and every which way. And, some Friday afternoons, I think my grandkids know I do. ◆

W i n t e r 2014

Tips for Monitoring Technology in the Home

Parents realize that technology can be addicting, dangerous, and threatening to their children, but monitoring children’s technology use in the home can be overwhelming. Monitoring technology may seem daunting, but it doesn’t have to be. There are many different ways to monitor technology use; these few suggestions are only the top of the Twitter feed. The key is to find a way that works for you.

“

The amount of time my kids spend playing outside or reading a book equals the amount of time allowed on video games the following day. We also have a ‘crash and tell’ policy because no matter what we do to protect our children, inappropriate pop-up images might still come up.

When that happens, our kids know to shut down the computer or phone and tell us immediately.

“

”

—Liz, Nevada

We give our kids tickets each week. They trade in a ticket for a half hour of electronic time not related to schoolwork and can earn an extra ticket for each chapter book they read.

—Amanda, Virginia

16

”

“

We use a ‘screen time’ timer that we set for a certain number of hours at the beginning of the week. Our kids know that once that time’s gone, it’s gone. We have a rule about electronic use staying in public areas in the home, and our kids know that if they would feel uncomfortable viewing the screen with mom or dad, it’s probably not something worth watching.

—Wynelle, California

“

”

Before the kids go to sleep each night, they put all their phones and iPads in a basket next to our bed so we know they aren’t listening to music or texting friends instead of going to bed.

—Mer, Nevada

“

”

We have parental locks set on all TVs and computers in the house. We check the kids’ phones and read their text messages. We follow the kids on Instagram and social media sites so we know what they’re liking and posting. We’re upfront with our kids. They know to expect us to follow them on social media, so there’s no unknown invasion of privacy.

”

—Tracey, Nevada

S ta n c e

for the

F a m i ly

Moms on the Clock

by Jill Hacking Is it true that mothers who work outside the home have thirty hours of leisure time every week? John Robinson, a sociologist at the University of Maryland, argues yes.

Robinson has built his career collecting and analyzing people’s use of time, and one of his recent studies produced this interesting find. He attributes these extra thirty hours to the fact that women—whether they realize it or not—are actually spending fewer hours working now than they have in the past. Not only that, but Robinson also found that mothers now spend more time every week caring for their children—working mothers included.

Daphne Budge is a mother of nine who works fulltime. Only four of her children still live at home, but she has worked outside the home during most of her marriage. When asked about her leisure time, she only identified four to six hours per week—her nightly halfhour to an hour of reading time—as leisure.

When you add up all the responsibilities of a working mom—career, kids, housework, and so on—it doesn’t seem like there’s much extra time to go around.

However, Robinson’s data, collected through the subjects’ time diaries, suggests otherwise. In an interview with the Washington Post, Robinson said, “It’s very popular, the feeling that there are too many things going on, that people can’t get in control of their lives. But when we look at people’s diaries, there just doesn’t seem W i n t e r 2014

to be the evidence to back it up.”

So where is this so-called leisure time? Brigid Schulte, the reporter for the Washington Post, decided to try the experiment with Robinson. She filled out time diaries and he analyzed them. She reported feeling frantic and rushed and perpetually behind, and yet he was able to pick out twenty-eight hours of leisure time in her reported weekly schedule. These hours included things like exercise—yoga classes, runs, and fitness DVDs— taking the kids to birthday parties, listening to the radio, and reading the newspaper in the micromoments between other things. When he gave her the report, she protested, “But it didn’t feel very leisurely.”

Perhaps, then, the heated discussions that have arisen over this study are centered on people’s different perceptions about the word “leisure.”

When Daphne Budge spoke of daily exercise, she said, “That’s not something I consider to be leisure; it’s something I have to do.” The thing that brings her the most joy is spending time with her kids. “That is the hardest part for me, being away from them. These are years I’ll never get back.” The solution she has come up with is both practical and loving. “When I am home, I include them in what I’m doing, whether that’s dishes, dinner, or reading a book.” That for her is the true leisure time. And she creates it on her own terms. ◆ 17

Love Languages

Speaking Your Child’s Dialect

by Lindsay Sandberg Communication is hard. Messages can be confused; wires can get crossed. But when the message we are trying to communicate is something as important as love, it’s important to communicate successfully.

Dr. Gary Chapman’s book, The 5 Love Languages, became popular worldwide in 2009, particularly for wives who struggled to feel loved in their marriages. What some of us may not realize, however, is that the principles that Dr. Chapman introduces can strengthen any relationship, not just marriages. Kimberly Painter, a craniosacral therapist, wife, and mother, says that the principles of the love languages are especially important in raising children.

When Painter first heard about Chapman’s book, she was interested in improving her communication with her husband. But once she read it, she said that it wasn’t a big jump for her to make the connection: this should work with the parent-child relationship and not just the husband-wife relationship. Painter made this connection because she believes that kids “are just little people” who have the same communication needs as adults. After reading The 5 Love Languages, she had a pretty good idea of what each of her four children’s love languages were, and she and her husband spent an evening talking to their children about the five languages of love.

As a family, the Painters learned to speak the languages of love. The boys tended to receive love demonstrated by physical touch. The girls received love through quality time and hearing words of affirmation. Painter’s husband showed his love in giving service. No one in the family of six tended to give or receive love by giving gifts. By recognizing everyone’s individual dialect, Painter was able to meet the needs of her family and help her children recognize that love was being spoken, even if it was not always expressed in their specific dialect.

But why is it so important to speak a child’s love language? According to Painter, we have three basic needs:

knowledge that we are safe, knowledge that we are good enough, and knowledge that we are loved for who we are.

If we don’t get that third message of being loved for who we are, we can grow up with an “impaired sense of self.”

This results in a lack of self-confidence or a damaged sense of identity. However, many children grow up not feeling loved, even when parents try to show love and affection.

An impaired sense of self can take many forms. Painter says, “it can look like a teenage girl who is trying to get the wrong kind of attention, searching for love and acceptance.

It can look like rebellion, or apathy. It can look like just not feeling like you will ever be successful.” So learning a child’s primary love languages and trying to speak them fills the need of being loved for who he or she is; it fills that void. Children can then develop a solid core of knowing that they have value. They are more resilient in social relationships and in dealing with what looks like failure. They are happier and more confident.

Painter says that it boils down to the fact that if your parents know your love languages, they know something about you. They have taken the time for you and have validated your worth.

While it is never too late to start, Painter says “if there is a critical time, it is probably the teenage years, because that is the time when their sense of self-worth and sense of identity are being developed, and they have the independence to go elsewhere, outside of the home, to fill that sense of self.”

Though it can be hard to make the shift, Painter says that just trying to communicate with somebody in their love language—particularly if it isn’t your own love language—has great value. It is a gift in itself just to speak to somebody in their love language. Your willingness to put out the effort is a significant gift because they see their importance validated in your eyes. ◆

Italian Roots:

Traditions that Unify the Family

by Lauren Prochelo illustration by Brad Duke In the twenty-first century it has become more and more challenging to maintain unity in the family. Whether caused by a lack of time, energy, or desire, the ties that hold a family together seem to be coming undone. One way to maintain unity is by carrying out the cultural traditions of ancestors. One cultural group in particular holds tightly to traditions passed: the Italians.

As an American with Italian heritage myself, I can confidently claim that Italians like to celebrate traditions lavishly and loudly—with an “eat, drink, and be merry” kind of approach. My own father said of his experiences growing up, “Holiday meals were an all-day event. The cooking and eating went on all day long. All night, too.”

Italian tradition is often connected to religious tradition. Ben Smith, a student at BYU with strong Italian heritage, celebrates specific Italian holidays, such as the Christian holiday Epiphany, each year with his family.

For Epiphany, celebrated on January 6, his family members break off branches from their Christmas tree. They then light a fire and symbolically burn two branches each. One represents a bad habit that they want to get rid of, and the other represents a goal that they each have for the new year. Smith explains, “It’s a way of burning the past and leaving it behind us and also fanning the flame of perseverance and determination to improve over the next year.”

W i n t e r 2014

Smith also cheekily spoke of another tradition that happens around the dinner table: “On Columbus Day we eat Italian food to celebrate the imperialist conquest of Christopher Columbus, who, as an Italian, wiped out entire groups of indigenous populations. We eat pasta and olive oil-saturated foods. That’s one tradition. That’s a good one.”

Why do Italians and other families closely tied to their heritage strive so earnestly to keep traditions alive?

Perhaps it’s because we all have an inherent desire to get to know the people in our families. We want to have strong bonds with them, and we want to understand them in order to sincerely love them. Traditions are a vehicle for building those relationships. At the end of the day, we are part of families that consist of people with very different personalities and unique characteristics. Traditions can help us bridge the gap. They give us something that we can all, as a family, participate in and believe in.

Preservation of family tradition comes down to the Italian saying, Chi si volta, e chi si gira, sempre a casa va finire, which means, “No matter where you go or turn, you will always end up at home.” Traditions foster a house and home of happiness and love; such a home will hold firm through challenges that may otherwise erode family ties. ◆ 19

In the World

by Katie Parker Obamacare: As of October 1, 2013, the online marketplaces for healthcare are open. The Affordable Care Act (commonly known as Obamacare) mandates that these marketplaces be available nationwide. This is the first noticeable implementation of the healthcare act since it was passed in March 2010. Citizens in need of health insurance can visit these online marketplaces to shop for health insurance. To learn more, visit www.healthcare.gov.

Working Women: In October 2013, AMP and the National Centre for Social and Economic Modeling released a study that reported more Australian women are out-earning men than ever before. The number of women who out-earn men decreases during childbearing and child-rearing years, suggesting that this shift toward women in the workplace does not necessarily affect a woman’s desire to have a family. But not all findings are as optimistic for the traditional family. To see statistics for Australian same-sex marriages, intact families, marriage rates, and more, visit media.amp.com.au.

United States of Education: By the beginning of the 2013 school year, all but four states had adopted the Common Core, an initiative created in 2010 to standardize the language arts and math curriculums across the country. Alaska, Nebraska, Texas, and Virginia have not yet adopted the new standards, while a few other states are in varying degrees of acceptance. See an outline for the new standards at www.corestandards.org.

20

S ta n c e

for the

F a m i ly

My Family’s

by Heather Johnson

Fall Fest

Black Friday. It was that time of year again, and I sure made the most of it. But not in the way you may think.

As the mall doors were about to open, I wasn’t forming a plan of attack for JCPenney or comparing Best Buy’s and Walmart’s prices. My family wasn’t waiting to bust down the doors of Kohl’s. We were in bed sleeping off large amounts of turkey and potatoes, waiting for the first Fall Festival—as we later dubbed it—to begin.

With lots of our family still at our home in Idaho, my mom needed to come up with an activity for the day after Thanksgiving. The result was an afternoon filled with food, fun, and fresh-pressed apple juice.

To create the most distinctive Fall Fest food, we used the apple press my grandfather ordered from Sears over thirty years ago. Although a few pieces of the contraption have been replaced and several improvements have been made by the following generations, the majority of the original wood and hardware remains. The process for making apple juice is quite lengthy, though the product and the experience are well worth the effort.

If autumn were a taste, it could be epitomized in this sweet nectar of the gods.

While my dad took charge of the juice, my mom and aunt fried up donuts, both pumpkin and glazed.

And when the donuts and apple juice didn’t quite cut

W i n t e r 2014

it, we headed into the house to grab a mug of chili and a piece of corn bread. With mugs in hand, we then lounged around on refurbished wood benches that my dad and brothers made out of an old fence.

Later we pulled out the compact tractor that my dad and brother rigged up for hayrides. Both of them (a dentist and a soon-to-be dental student) are farm boys at heart and take any opportunity they can to use the tractor. By attaching a trailer to the tractor and borrowing some hay bales from a neighbor, they created a fairly authentic experience. Once everyone piled on, the hayride commenced and we bumped around the surrounding fields.

The weather turned out perfectly and everyone shed heavy coats in favor of sweatshirts to enjoy the warm autumn sun. The air was full of the scent of cinnamon and donuts and everyone was perfectly content to sit outside and enjoy each other’s company. The cousins started a game of tag as we all basked in the autumn glow of the first successful family Fall Fest.

Black Friday. The first day we play Christmas music at my house, and now the day of a new tradition. I decided there isn’t a better way to welcome in the traditionfilled season of Christmas than with a day that allows us to focus on each other and the joys of the season. ◆

21

Sour Cream Cake A Not-So-Family Recipe

by Lindsay Sandberg This sour cream cake has been a part of birthdays, holidays, neighborhood shindigs, and rites of passage for as long as I can remember. My mom learned how to make this cake from her mother and she later taught me. The first time I made sour cream cake for my husband it was an instantaneous hit. Making it for the second time in my own home, I thought of how I was continuing this culinary tradition after who knows how many years. I realized that I didn’t actually know how long it had been in our family, so I determined to find out.

My mom couldn’t remember a celebration in her life without sour cream cake. We would joke that it was part of our Danish ancestry. When I tried to verify its origin with my Grandma, I received a horrible response: the cake was not a family tradition. Grandma had been given the recipe by a woman she knew in Oklahoma, back when my mom was no more than a toddler. “I wish

there was a story to it,” Grandma said, “but it has been a celebration cake in our family for forty-five years.”

Although it was a bit of a disappointment, I realized that just as my husband and I are starting new traditions in our own little family, so did my grandmother. Her moment of discovery led to a tradition that has influenced all seven of her children and all twenty of her grandchildren. And we, in turn, have passed this family tradition on to countless friends and neighbors.

Ingredients 1 cup butter 3 cups sugar 6 eggs ¼ teaspoon baking soda ¼ teaspoon salt 3 cups all-purpose flour 1 cup sour cream

Instructions 1. Preheat oven to 300 degrees. Grease 10” angel food cake pan.

2. Cream butter and sugar in medium-sized mixing bowl.

3. Separate eggs; add yolks to creamed mixture and set aside whites in a separate bowl.

4. Add baking soda and salt to mixture and mix until smooth.

5. Alternately add flour and sour cream.

6. Beat egg whites until peaks are formed and fold into batter.

7. Pour batter into angel food pan and bake for 1 ½ hours.

8. Top with homemade whipped topping and fresh strawberries or other fruit.

22

S ta n c e

for the

F a m i ly

Book Reviews Peace Like a River

by Leif Enger In Peace Like a River, Enger tells the unique story of the Land family in prose so tender and beautiful it could break your heart. It is the story of a God-fearing, miracleperforming father and his three children—the oldest of whom has been charged of a controversial double-homicide. As a result, the family journeys across the

Badlands of North Dakota to find this outlaw brother.

This journey is narrated by eleven-year-old Rueben Land; utilizing impeccable detail and rich dialogue, he describes his own intriguing views of the world as well as his internal struggle to come to terms with the fate of his family. From cover to cover this book is enthralling and thought provoking; its characters give new meaning to the term “come to life.” If you are looking for a stimulating, refreshing, poignant read, look no further than Peace Like a River. —reviewed by Jenna Hoffman

You Don’t Need a Title to Be a Leader

by Mark Sanborn Mark Sanborn, author of the national bestseller The Fred Factor, has scored again with his second book, You Don’t Need a Title to Be a Leader. With its clear and conversational tone, this is a book that can be read and applied to people from all walks of life.

“It doesn’t matter what your position is, whether you help to run your family, a PTA committee, or a Fortune 1000 company. Anyone at any level can learn to be a leader and help to shape or influence the world around them,” writes Sanborn in the introdcution.

This inspiring book is full of everyday leaders: a protocol officer of West Point who served her way into a promotion, a coffee consumer who designed the coffee cup sleeve, a Wal-Mart cashier who suggested the idea

W i n t e r 2014

of a store greeter, and a single individual who works as an accountant, nurse, receptionist, secretary, admissions coordinator, supply coordinator, and counselor—otherwise known as Mom. Sanborn highlights principles of leadership that can be applied in various situations, such as the power of giving, the power of persuasive communication, and the power of self-mastery. He also discusses challenging topics such as how to confront problems, how to prioritize, and how to diminish distractions.

The author, an internationally acclaimed keynote speaker and president of a company that focuses on developing leaders, accomplishes the near-impossible by creating an easy-to-read book that is completely full of helpful—and doable—suggestions to become a positive influence on your closest associates, no matter the title you wear. —reviewed by Melissa Hart

23