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Thursday, May 04, 2006



My cousin (my dad's brother's only daughter) is going through incredible life changes because of Landmark. My uncle did the weekend-long program a month ago and has been telling us great things about it ever since. Once, when we were talking on the phone, I even checked your blog entries about Landmark from last year.

This book seems to be really interesting, I'll try to read it when I have more time (i.e. when I finish the dissertation someday :)


Thanks for the book recommendations. Will check them out.

It sounds like we had similar upbringings. I embraced mine til I was 18, then completely lost it for several years.

I am keeping my child's surroundings urban and diverse for her sake as much as mine--was lost in a community near my mom's way out in the far burbs, not gated because it was so far out that it gating would be surpufluous. I got nauseated at the idealistic way it was landscaped like a small town from a few decades ago, which may be a visual improvement over suburbia's more stereotypical boxiness, but something about it felt like a pretty screen covering discontent and desperation that I grew up with.

Maybe that was my stuff, poor white and privileged me. But I can't see myself creating that kind of fantasy for my brown skinned child, who is very much of an individual and a force with whom to contend! Wiping her individuality out with enforced conformity would be so wrong.

And yet, when I see kids covered with piercings (especially the ear frisbees) and tattoos and affecting a sullen persona, I quake. I have a nose piercing and a hidden tattoo myself, so I am hoping that I will either present a moderate persona to imitate or she will rebel by being more conservative than me!


I have a hard time reading stories like that because...well, I'm not quite sure. Maybe because I dabbled and experimented but ultimately turned back before shit got crazy. Though I wonder if my mother realizes that if she hadn't moved us from Wichita to Norfolk, how bad things could have gotten...anyway.

Yeah. I had a sense of the mother-love even then, I think, which kept me from going too far. And imagining otherwise -- for myself, or for my daughter someday -- makes me really, really nervous.

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