In the final moments of Danny’s life everything comes into sharp focus.  He won’t miss being a soldier, he won’t miss Afghanistan and he sure as heck won’t miss the war.  As he closes his eyes he knows what really matters: his family, his home and his guitar.   A few years later that guitar falls into the hands of a kid from New York named Dillon, and it is just about the only thing that feels right in his life.  His parents are divorced, his school is a joke and his friends just don’t understand him anymore.   The more he plays that old guitar, the better he feels until he starts to feel that someone is watching.   His suspicion is confirmed when he hears a southern drawl teasing him about a truly poor G chord. 

Channeling the ghost of the guitar’s former owner is weird enough, but now there are unsettling notes as well.    Fragments about death and remembering and warnings. Dillon doesn’t know what to do or where to turn.  Is Danny a friend or a threat and is he sending these notes?  The only thing Dillon knows for sure is that the old guitar in his room is the key to everything. Dillon has no choice: he must play on.  

I remember the night I wrote those words.  Writing my first young adult novel has been a thrill and an adventure in bravery from the very start.  I love writing for kids and I value their time and trust.  I want to give them stories that are empowering and exciting.  My favorite stories are the ones that center on ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances.  Characters that could be anyone of us, that face a seemingly insurmountable challenge and discover that they already have within everything they will need to meet that challenge.  I love to see the growth from not believing they are enough, to discovering their inner reserve of strength, skill and courage.  Stories about pulling together and beating the odds are my favorite to read and so that’s what I love to write.

I learned from an early age that life can be overwhelming and even scary sometimes.  I also learned that the love and support of caring friends and family can help children grow through those times and even empower them to help others along.  I think that is what changes a community, one child at a time.  Knowing that you are loved, no matter what; knowing that life is not always about becoming, that there is great cause for celebration in simply being.  That right now, at this moment, you are enough; that you have within you what you need to meet the challenge, whether that challenge is turning off the lights before you sleep, or facing a natural disaster.

I think that when a child can accept him or herself, they can be more accepting of others and that kind of growth can move a classroom and even a community forward.  That’s the environment where creativity can flourish.  Where the risks required to learn can be taken, with a big smile.  Where kids can remember that mistakes are okay because that is where the growth occurs.  Where all kids can learn that the world is longing to hear their music, so no matter what, we need them to play on.

Here’s to teaching our kids to face the sun and using great stories to do it.

Marilynn

Fear is a funny thing.  It loves control, it comes complete with judgment and self-criticism and it can isolate us faster than a shipwreck.  Like a lot of things, fear loves the darkness.  In many ways, fear is dark itself.  It blocks out the light of hope and joy and it makes it too dark to see clearly enough to make a good, healthy and safe decision.  Fear can distort everything and turn a rational person into an angry and exhausted pile of static.  Fear does all it can to make you keep still, or even go backward.  It loves to paralyze.

Life well lived is all about going forward.  Growing in the fertile ground of our experience and using that experience to create new ideas and expanding horizons. Fear just hates growth.

Still, there is no denying that this can be a scary world.  Lots of kids are afraid of the dark and all you have to do is watch the lead story on any evening news to find something scary to grown-ups.  Grown-ups with kids are even more vulnerable. As parents, the stakes are higher.  We need to keep our kids safe too and in the wee hours of the morning we have the nagging suspicion that we cannot.  No matter what precautions we take, life requires risk.  We must drive to school, use a bath tub and even learn to swim.  All of this growth requires a certain amount of manageable risk and can even be a little scary.

So what can we do?  Is it even possible to be informed and realistic and still be fearless?  Would you want to be fearless?  I think not.  A certain amount of fear is healthy.  When you smell smoke, it is good to fear a fire and get out.  When you feed your baby it is good to fear allergic reactions and try one new food at a time.  Some fear is helpful and necessary.  Some fear is earned from experience of cause and effect.  We don’t drink and drive because we fear the consequences, that it good.

Okay, so some fear is good, but what about the unhelpful kind.  Can we fear less?  I think so.  I think if we accept the fact that the life and growth we desire for ourselves and our families can only occur if we are willing to take manageable risks, then the benefits of growth must outweigh the risks and we can be a little less fearful.  We can shed the judgment and self-criticism that are parts of our fearing process.  Without those two components fear is necessarily reduced by two-thirds.

As parents being fearless is not only unrealistic, it is undesirable, some fear is a good thing.  The good news is that fear is like a puppy in need in training.  If we learn to control our fears they can actually help us have a safer life.  The trick for us and our kids is to be gentle with ourselves and our fears.

When you or your child is anxious try this.  Say that it is okay to be afraid.  Don’t judge a fear, your own or someone else’s. Fear is very real to the person who is afraid.  Treat it like a puppy. Gently take control of the fear.  If your child is afraid of the dark, that is okay.  Put on a light for a while.  Find out what is scary.  Is it a monster?  Get out some monster repellant, (hairspray is great for this).  Spray the doorway and leave a light on.

If you are fearful of your home being unsafe in an emergency, do the same thing.  Remind yourself that it is okay to feel afraid.  Then take some simple steps.  Check your smoke and carbon monoxide detectors. Have a home fire drill and set up a safe spot to meet outside.  Get fire ladders for upstairs bedrooms and then breathe.  You have done what you can and now you must do the most important thing to control fear.  Now you must exchange the fear for faith and remember you are all right and not alone.

Fear wants you all to itself, but you are not alone.  Families everywhere are right beside you and when we help each other we all grow. So here’s to controlling fear and growing together.

Keep your face to the sun and may all your shadows fall behind.

Marilynn

When I was growing up I spent my summers in Northern Ireland during what was euphemistically called the Troubles.  It was tumultuous time in history and for me as well. While I was there I witnessed the atrocities of violence on an almost daily basis.  There were moments when I felt overwhelmed, fearful and very, very sad.  There were moments when I wondered if I could ever feel safe.  There were also moments when I knew that everything would be all right again.

The recent events in Newtown, Connecticut, shattered the innocence of so many.  The precious young lives that were ripped from us have left a scar and a raw ache that have changed us.  We are not the same and that it okay; we shouldn’t be.  Together we are moving through a crisis that will always be a pivotal moment.  Life will neatly divide between the before and the after.  Of that there can be no question.  What remains in question is how we will emerge.

I think most of us would agree that we hope our families will emerge closer and even stronger than we were before.  Perhaps we hope to maintain the surge of gratitude for our own family that comingled with our initial shock.  At the very least many of us long to return to that blissful normal where children slaughtered in their classrooms was still unthinkable rather than a hellacious memory.  The question isn’t really what we long for; but rather how do we get there?  How can we move our family from fear to security and from overwhelmed to empowered?

I think the first step is to remember a little something about steel.  Steel is incredibly strong and flexible and it gets that way from being formed in a fiery cauldron.  Strength and even beauty can come from pain so white hot that it burns, pain like what the people of Newtown have been forced to endure.

During times of crisis and violence I believe moms and dads are the first line of defense against the emotional scarring that turn a child’s world upside down.  Moms and dads are the ones who must often break the news, dry the tears and find a way help their children feel safe again and grow a little stronger.

In some cases, professional intervention is the best route, but in many others children can overcome their fears with the consistent support of their families.  So how can we offer that support?  Begin at the beginning.

Breaking the news

When a tragedy occurs and we must tell our children what has happened, there are simple steps that can make a big difference.  It’s not easy to see our kids uncomfortable and no one wants to see them cry, but when you have bad news to deliver we need to look our child in the eye.  Kneel down in front of your little one or sit down next to him or her on the couch.  Put one hand over your child’s and wrap the other arm around him or her.  Communicate the news with gentle words, but communicate your love and support with body language.

When knights of the realm wanted to show their allegiance to the king, they got down on one knee.  There is a reason that we smile when a man proposes to his sweetheart on bended knee.  We are hardwired to understand the messages behind the body language.  Kneeling means I am not leaving you, I don’t have one foot out the door because there is trouble, I am here for the duration.

When you wrap your arms around your child you literally “have his or her back”.   All of this nonverbal communication makes hard news more bearable for your child.

Keep the discussion age appropriate and TRUTHFUL

Only a parent can decide what and how much their child should know.  Speak calmly, clearly and honestly.  This is the information age and media is everywhere.  You don’t have to tell a child every detail, but be sure that the information you choose to share is true.  This is an opportunity to build trust and showing your child that he or she can count on you to be supportive and truthful, goes a long way toward helping a child cope.

Watch, listen and learn

Just as you communicate with words and body language, so do your kids.  Tears or downcast eyes?  Trembling or clenched fists? All of these will show you how your child copes in a crisis.  This is valuable information that will help you support your child over the course of a lifetime.

Use the numbers

Point out that there was one bad man, but there were upwards of one hundred people who rushed to help.  Remind your children that the bad man is gone, but the helpers remain and they are willing and able to support, help and protect the community.  Loan your child your perspective, let them know that there was one terrible day and it is over now and there are many, many more happy days yet to come.

Let your child process the event in his or her own way and at his or her own pace

Older kids may look for logic and grasp for control over a situation that is devoid of both.  That is okay.  Let your teenager process this event in his or her own way.  Exercise, journal, spend time with the family, talk about it or not talk…yet.  All of these are normal and healthy coping mechanisms.  Support you child and remember older children need and want your support as desperately as little ones, but it might be harder for them to let you know. So, stay close and don’t be afraid to reach out.

Remember that expression leads to empowerment

When your child is ready let him or her express their feelings through words, art, music, volunteerism or story.  The magical alchemy of childhood is the ability to transform pain into growth. When your child is ready to express his or her feelings constructively and healthfully, that is progress.

The Newtown Massacre destroyed our innocence and left us with a gaping hole in our hearts, but together we will fill our hearts with the memories of the fallen and the promise of honoring their lives in the future.  Together we will hold onto each other and begin to heal.  This fiery cauldron will forge new and stronger families and communities wrapped up in shining ribbons as strong as steel.

I’ve always been proud of being from New Jersey, but Super-Storm Sandy has given me an even deeper appreciation. I grew up at the corner of Jersey Strong and Fightin’ Irish – born and raised by parents who emigrated from Northern Ireland – but Sandy reminds us all that people of New Jersey have never had it easy. Being from here means you stand tall and don’t give up. Even Sandy, with all of its destruction, didn’t count on our collective stamina, commitment, and heart. In the spirit of the season, and in honor of our state, I offer “The Twelve Gifts of Jersey”:

The first gift of Jersey that Sandy helped me see: wide-open generosity. To grow up here is to learn that we take care of each other. Sandy reminded us that we are on the same team, part of the same family. Even people who seem to have lost everything still find a way to give something to each other.

The second gift of Jersey that Sandy helped me see: humor after all. Sandy was no laughing matter, but our ability to find the humor, and Governor Christie’s fleece, got us through.

The third gift of Jersey that Sandy helped me see: still self-assured. When you live in New Jersey you have the confidence that comes from knowing who you are. The destruction from Cape May to the PATH trains brought out the first responders and volunteers who knew they could lend a hand and make a difference.

The fourth gift of Jersey that Sandy helped me see: staying down to earth. Sandy was the great leveler: practically nobody got away unscathed. The good news is that people from the Garden State aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty and rebuild…even if it messes up our manicures.

The fifth gift of Jersey that Sandy helped me see: opportunity. Thomas Edison wasn’t the only one who saw that New Jersey was the place for invention and industry. From Rutgers University to global corporations, Sandy did not and could not shut these down.

The sixth gift of Jersey that Sandy helped me see: courage in a crisis. Our history of bravery stretches all the way from the American Revolution to those hours leading up to and following the storm, when people jumped into rising floodwaters, severed power lines and fallen trees to help those at risk find safer ground.

The seventh gift of Jersey that Sandy helped me see: optimistic outlook. The people of New Jersey believe things will get better. We will not forget Sandy’s terrible destruction, but because we see the future beyond the heartache, it has become a watershed for all manner of new projects and dreams. New Jersey will rebuild even better than before.

The eighth gift of Jersey that Sandy helped me see: proud and determined. We take pride in ourselves:  in our families, our homes, and in our work. Made in New Jersey means it’s done right. As we recover after Sandy, we may shed a tear, but we will not give up.

The ninth gift of Jersey that Sandy helped me see: Cheering Jersey on. Whether you want to start a business or a family, or just get your life in order, you can get from plan to goal in record time, because people around you will be cheering you on.  Sandy is forcing many to take inventory and plan a different future. Clean slates can be daunting, but as lonely it may seem, none of us is truly doing it alone.

The tenth gift of Jersey that Sandy helped me see: Supportive of all. In the Garden State we don’t just tolerate other views, we celebrate them. Sandy hit residents of the Jersey Shore differently from those in Trenton and Hoboken, but however our needs differ, we all want the same thing, and New Jersey is roaring back stronger than before.

The eleventh gift of Jersey that Sandy helped me see: the allure of the shoreline. Even after Sandy, we will still go “down the shore” to catch our breath, recharge our batteries and make some happy memories. The old beaches, boardwalks and cottages may have changed, but nobody doubts that next summer a new Jersey shore will be ready to welcome anyone who knows how to have fun.

The twelfth gift of Jersey that Sandy helped me see: these gifts are our gifts. We’ll take these qualities of Jersey wherever we go and know this for sure: the rest of the world can always use a little Jersey spirit. If disasters hit other places, other people, they can look to New Jersey and remember how we denied Sandy her desperate quest to destroy and answered back with defiance and determination.

Despite the devastation of Sandy, the strengths that we draw from it will support us as we progress. The holidays are a time of celebration and re-assurance. As another

Jersey native, Bon Jovi, reminds us: “Take it in, take it with you when go…”

I CAN wade grief,

Whole pools of it,-

I’m used to that.

But the least push of joy

Breaks up my feet,

And I tip-

Emily Dickenson

Dear Moms and Dads,

The events of December 14, 2012 have left us grief-stricken and overwhelmed. Twenty-six innocent people were brutally massacred, twenty of them children.  The horror is unthinkable, unspeakable and yet we, as parents, must think and we must speak to our children.  We must have conversations none of us want to have and none of us are prepared for.  We have to help our own families heal because we too have been injured by this evil madman.  We have all lost a part of our innocence.  We have all felt the peace and joy of our Holiday Season stolen away.  We have all had to face the fact that grief and fear have a lot in common.

I’ve been thinking about the best ways to support children, yours, and mine as we all adjust to this new landscape.  So much has been destroyed, but we are natural builders.  Families are people who know how to rebuild and how to grow again.  I believe in families.  I believe in the miraculous alchemy of childhood that can transform pain into growth and I believe there is a way out of this crisis.  My own experience with violence in Northern Ireland has taught me that what happens next, in these moments of the aftermath, is vitally important in helping our children to heal.

There are simple steps we can take to reclaim our sense of security and rebuild our communities.  In the wake of evil like this our children look to us to learn what to do and how to respond. It sounds simple but I think the first thing we should do is hold each other.  Body language is crucial in all communication but now more than ever.  Hard news is softened when we hold hands and verbally and physically remind our kids that they are loved and that we are right here to support them.

I have 4 kids and I knew I’d have to tell the older 2 about what happened, but I desperately wanted to let my younger kids remain blissfully ignorant.  The only problem with my plan is that the rest of the world is talking all around them.  Media is everywhere and everyone is shaken and trying to support each other.  There is no way my little ones won’t be aware and so it is up to me to figure out how much to tell them.  Every parent has that right and no one knows your kids better than you.  You decide what and when and how much to say, my only advice is to keep it simple and truthful.  Our kids need to trust us to be straight with them, especially in times like these.

With 4 kids I need to remember that each of them will deal with this in his or her own way.  One wants to go for a run while another needs to draw a picture.  One is ready to volunteer and another is writing a story.  To me, all of these are good signs.  Kids process things in their own ways, but they are moving forward.  My job is to acknowledge and support them as best as I can.  I also have to remember that older kids need hugs and support just as much as little ones, but they may have trouble asking for it.  That’s why I keep plenty of hugs around for the teens and pre-teens in my life.  I am always impressed at the resiliency of children and the way they are already healing their heartache by making something new.

I’m trying to remind them that there is more good in this world than evil. That there was one evil man, but at least a hundred people who came running to help.  That what happened is heinous but the worst is over.  That now is a time for healing to begin, if not for the adults, at least for our children.

Children are still children and even in their sadness they are hungry for joy.  I think we can honor the ones we lost by letting their young lives inspire us to live each moment with joy and gratitude.  That way, like Emily Dickenson, even if we walk in grief, the littlest push of joy might be enough for us to tip…

May you tip toward the sun.

Marilynn Halas