Customs

Pranksters, Not Gangsters

Jeanna GLeave a comment

Part 1: When I was a kid, we pulled pranks. We smashed pumpkins, toilet papered yards, threw eggs and bologna, vandalized, burned things, set off stink bombs, switched the salt and sugar, and deflated tires. One time we took the tires completely off and left the car on cinder blocks. We told the freshmen we were dressing in 80s prom dresses for our next Psyche Party, and watched them enter in pink taffeta while we sat laughing in our jeans and t-shirts. I’m not proud of it, but I’m not exactly sorry either; most of them were meant to be playful, not malicious.

Part 2: I was watching the news the other day, and a near hopeless woman was speaking about how difficult it is to teach children when living in an active war zone. The children ask her, “What’s the point of learning if we could die today?” That knocked the wind out of me. The next day, I’m watching this girl, living in the same war zone and standing where her house is now a pile of rubble, crying and asking, “What am I supposed to do? I am only 10 years old.” This is actually happening 6,000 miles away from me, while I sit quietly at my table in my peaceful home, listening to my 9 year-old daughter play, in our safe neighborhood.

I grew up in what felt like a safe town. We didn’t worry about locking things up, or playing outside unsupervised. My bike was stolen from our shed, our house was burglarized in the middle of the day, and a friend of ours was kidnapped from his house. Those rocked me quite a bit, but I still felt safe.

I have an older brother who joined the Army. When he returned home in 1990, I felt extra safe knowing he was around and looking out for me. He was called to war in January 1991, so then he was looking out for all of us. I was in sixth grade when the Gulf War began. We held a sit-in in the middle school gym. This was our first real-time exposure to war, so our sit-in wasn’t very productive considering none of us really knew what was going on, so we didn’t know what to do or what to ask for. We just knew it didn’t feel right, and it certainly didn’t seem fair that our older siblings were going off to war in some country we’d never even heard of. But as that war was fought far, far away, we continued to go to school, play our sports, watch our TVs, and sleep in our comfy beds in our quiet little town.

After college I moved to Baltimore where I tried my best to teach the youngsters of the inner-city public schools. I came to realize that these children were growing up in a war zone of their own. Children can’t focus on learning if they don’t feel safe. Based on Maslow’s theory, children can’t focus on much of anything if this basic need isn’t met. After four overwhelming years, I just couldn’t handle the amount of fear and anxiety that enveloped those kids anymore, so I quit and moved. I needed to find solitude and live somewhere where I could find peace and still believe there was happiness. It took some time to decompress. I hardened over time, and needed to soften up again.

Part 3: I’m a Christian, but I will be the first to tell you that I have a tilted halo. A few of the major principles of Christianity are to 1) Love your neighbor as yourself (Golden Rule), 2) Forgive others who have wronged you, and 3) Love your enemies. But, no one ever said those were easy things to do. So what am I getting at? I can empathize with people who want revenge. I understand why schadenfreude is a thing. But I cannot find any sense in killing and destroying to get your way. The emotional fallout alone is too awful to fathom. So, if love and forgiveness aren’t in the cards, maybe we can consider being pranksters instead of gangsters? I imagine something out of a Roald Dahl novel. There’s a disagreement that cannot be talked out. Rock, Paper, Scissors won’t cut it. They turn to war. The planes fly over and drop… stink bombs. The tanks roll through shooting… paint balls. The infantry launch rotten eggs from sling shots. Grenades explode covering everything with slime. Some people are annoyed, some people are satisfied, but all people are alive. Some things need to be cleaned up, but nothing needs to be rebuilt. Wouldn’t this be revolutionary? No more assault rifles, no more missiles. If your ass is really that chapped, take it old school and burn a bag of shit on their front porch. Ruin their day, don’t ruin their lives. Just remember, someone loves them, and someone loves you, too.

Be an Amigo

Jeanna G4 Comments

As a child, I was taught to mind my manners, especially when visiting someone else’s home. Be respectful of their rules and practices, listen to and learn about the host, graciously accept what is offered to you, and offer to help in return. I believe these same principles apply when visiting another country.

My daughter and I just traveled to Mexico for the first time. She was buzzing with excitement about so many aspects of the trip, especially the part about missing a few days of school. But I told her she wasn’t missing anything because she was still going to receive an education while we traveled. In fact, this was going to be the best form of remote learning in which she could ever participate! As a parent, I need to seize opportunities like this to ensure the practices I learned as a child are also carried on as her custom.

Before we departed, I read to her about Puerto Vallarta’s history, geography, weather, cuisine, attractions, and economy. We learned that 50% of their workforce is in hospitality, so I had the notion that the general population must be struggling. Although we stayed at an all-inclusive resort, I wanted to be aware of any tipping policies. The receptionist told me tipping was not necessary. Mind you, I’ve worked in hospitality for a long time, and I would never turn down a tip. I also assume the employees are trying to catch-up after the Covid drought. So I tipped. Everybody.

I studied Spanish for four years beginning in 8th grade. Unlike riding a bike, I find it easy to forget how to speak a second language without practice. So, in addition to reading about Puerto Vallarta, I’ve been using Duolingo to brush up on this skill, and to introduce it to my daughter. I want to at least try to be able to speak the language of the country I’m visiting. Although I spoke some Spanish, almost everyone I interacted with spoke English very well, and seemed happy to oblige.

We learned more by walking along the Malecón, viewing and purchasing the wares and fares of the local artists and food vendors.

We learned the most from our taxi drivers. Raul told us about tequila tours and to be on the lookout for coatimundis (which we were lucky enough to spot later that night!). Antonio played mariachi music for us, used google translate on his phone to make sure we understood each other, and he pulled over when there was a sight he wanted us to see. He was calling us “familia” by the end of our ride. Our third driver wanted to know all about us. He said he could tell we were not like other gringas. I laughed, looked down at my fanny pack, and then asked what he thought was different. He replied, “Most Americans who visit are arrogant.” That made me sad and disappointed to think ‘we’ were not minding our manners when visiting someone else’s home. He and I continued to get to know each other for the rest of the drive, and it wasn’t lost on me that he finished each sentence with “mi amiga.”

Being a good guest doesn’t require bending over backwards to please your host, and vice versa. It’s as simple as minding your manners. So please remember, we’re all sharing the same world, so mi casa es tu casa, y tu casa es mi casa, amigos.

Traditions & Customs

Jeanna G2 Comments

I spent the last four days at the beach with my posse. It’s the fourth year in a row that we’ve taken this family vacation together. This past July was the third year in a row that we shared a lake house together, and this November will be the fourth year in a row that we shared a mountain cabin for a long weekend. Some other women and their families have come and gone on these trips, but there is a core group whose presence has remained throughout. I’m grateful for the two women who do the majority of the planning, and they tend to book our rentals a year in advance, so there’s always something fun to look forward to and plan around. One of these women’s families used to take beach vacations with their friend’s families when she was a child, and she wanted that recurring event to become a tradition that her children could experience. It is now my hope that my daughter will continue this tradition with her children and closest friends.

One of the many conversations of this most recent trip revolved around the topic of traditions. I took an opinion poll asking how many times or years an event needs to be repeated before it can be considered a tradition. I liked the answer of three years in a row best, because two years could be a fluke, but three shows effort to continue the event. It wasn’t until I started writing this that I realized “generation to generation” is part of the definition of tradition. So when creating new traditions, you’re initially practicing customs, with the hope of continuance and a motivation to hand down these practices.

Aside from these shared vacations, I want to pass on to my daughter many of the customs that I practiced as a child every year with my family. A lot of my favorites relate to holidays, but not all. Of course there are customs related to behavior, morals, values, and character, but those require daily practice, not just an annual duplication.

Holidays make me think of food, and I think certain dishes could and should be handed down and practiced year after year. My daughter will know how to make real mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, her own pie crust, my grandma’s chocolate chip cookies, and how to roast a turkey. Ham crisps (ham salad on Ritz with a cucumber slice), bowls of olives, shrimp cocktail, and lutefisk will be available before Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. Corned beef, cabbage, and potatoes are prepared on St. Patrick’s.

New Year’s is spent in the place you love the most to get the year started off right. For us, it’s been the beach.

She and I celebrate Valentine’s Day with fondue. I want her to continue to celebrate that holiday by sharing it with who she loves and who loves her.

Thanksgiving isn’t complete without watching the Macy’s parade and the dog show. I’ve added the new custom of watching all of the “Friends” Thanksgiving episodes every year, too.

During advent we open a chocolate-filled calendar every day. We watch A Charlie Brown Christmas and A Christmas Story every year. I complete a Christmas jigsaw puzzle annually, but that’s a hobby that doesn’t need to be passed on. On Christmas Eve, baby Jesus is laid in the manger of the crèche. We also go to the candlelight service every Christmas Eve, and then get to open one gift before bed.

Non-holiday traditions include taking a photo on the first day of each new school year and playing board games together. Sports are a huge tradition in our family. We play them, we watch them, we bet on them, we love them. The New York Yankees. My daughter is a 4th generation fan. Penn State football. I am a Nittany Lion and hope that my daughter at least applies to attend. My dad graduated from both Michigan State (undergrad) and Iowa (grad), and my sisters and aunt are Big 10 alumni, as well, so Saturdays in fall are loud. Every year we pick our favorites in the Triple Crown races, which my mom did with her dad. We root for USA in the World Cup and the Olympics. I grew up a Whalers fan in Connecticut, and now we root for the Canes (who used to be the Whalers) here in North Carolina. We fill out our March Madness brackets every year, and we always tune in to watch the Super Bowl.

So why are we motivated to hand down these customs? I like traditions because they create a comfort space for me, a chance to hit the re-set button. All of them are something to look forward to, a reward for all the hard work, and an escape from the mundane. Some of them, like the vacations, are a chance to reconnect with friends and to participate in experiences that we wouldn’t normally get to enjoy in our day-to-day lives. And considering the topic of my blog, traditions are a chance to rediscover not just my childhood, but those of my ancestors with the added bonus of learning more about who am I, where I came from, and who I can be. Traditions and customs create experiences and add a much needed joie de vivre.

What are your customs that you hope become traditions? What traditions do you continue to carry on from your ancestors? Why do you practice these customs and traditions?