Disney's "I Am A Princess" video

I'm the first to admit I've always held a deep suspicion towards Disney's princess monopoly. I've always believed it was a ploy to get little girls to wear Disney clothing, hold Disney parties, and just buy more Disney everything. I've never approved of the damsel in distress aspect of Disney's princess theme, and always felt they portrayed women as evil matrons and girls as helpless and hapless.

More recently they've taken the theme, left many of damsels behind, and somewhat re-crafted their image of what a princess is even if she's not technically always a princess. And, as is the case in Brave and Tangled, even when she is a princess the girls are no pushover simply waiting for a prince to rescue them from their fate; they're clever, crafty and self-sufficient, even when men are involved.

Disney's new, "I Am A Princess" video delivers us from Disney's cloying princess past altogether. While the girls are all attractive, as you would expect any actor in any promotional video to be, they are also budding scientists, rockers, archers, and athletes. They're confident, intelligent, and honorable. They appear to all be real girls, without any of the gaudy toddler-pageant make-up one might associate with Disney and its cartoon heroines.

Things are changing. Yes, Disney is still marketing to girls. No, we haven't really seen "princesses" that are anything other than beautiful and slim and beautiful. But are girls not worthy of being marketed to? Do we see ever see males that aren't muscular or square-jawed? I think they're getting very close to unobjectionable territory here. They may have a ways to go in some regards, and clearly not everyone has the same fondness for animated storytelling as I do, or exempts Disney from criticism on some level as I might due to pure nostalgia, but you have to admit for a corporation who's job is entertainment and marketing (or marketing through entertainment) things are finally getting better for princesses. They ask questions but are clearly able to formulate their own conclusions. They create and develop their own personae, albeit with Disney's help. And they're clearly able to be whomever they choose with nary a boy or man to interfere. What else could you want for your princess?

More Heritage School

This was once the Heritage School entrance sign

The gate, once open, now with private intercom

Another view of the old red barn

Sean Christensen’s Empty House

Empty House from Sean Christensen on Vimeo.

Beautiful if melancholy short film by Sean Christensen. It is slow. Slow, in the way that ice floe is slow; in the way decay is slow; in the way that the gradual tearing at the seams of family life is usually slow. If it doesn't provoke a lump in the throat then you don't deserve to ever feel sadness. It's your loss. This is wonderful work.

[via The Daily What]

Playground Hero to Playground Zero

Children are a fickle animal. If you do something they deem worthy such as liberate a swing from where it sits wrapped around the support pole, you're a hero. You literally hear applause and jubilant yells exalt you. We'll just leave out my private motivation for freeing the swing was so my daughter, who's been having a rough time asserting herself when it comes to playground hierarchy, could finally get a turn on her own turf.

So, of course the bigger kids ran up yelling "Yay!" and grabbed it from me (where I then had a difficult time asserting to them that it should be my daughter's turn. Some role model.). Clearly they had been trying to get the swing down all morning, so I let them have it, literally. I gave them the swing without a word.

The hardest part for my somewhat sensitive girl is forcing her way in and asserting her right to ride. And I don't want to do this for her. I'd just like to be there to encourage her that doing so is OK, to boost her confidence, and to maybe stop trouble if someone gets too nasty about it. Instead, we both end up waiting. Hoping for a chance to get her in there. Sadly, I remember bring in her very shoes when I was young, and it doesn't get much easier as an adult if you don't address it and learn self-confidence and realize you have the same rights and freedoms as everyone else - up to and including racing to claim the swing before some poor wallflower can get there.

That's the problem with being "sensitive", you want other people to be happy. Sometimes so they'll like you. Sometimes because it feels right. Sometimes just to martyr yourself. But in the end you are never really content, and you haven't made the world a better place you've just become a vacuum in space to be filled by other people's needs.

The irony is as soon as we secure her a spot and get her seated - beating out a few other newcomers who would surely have grabbed it otherwise - two, probably 8-year-old children next, to us collided, one, a girl, hurrying past and getting slammed to the ground by the other, a boy. The girl screamed, more in anger than pain, and punched the boy hard in the shoulder. He muttered an apology, clearly confused as to how he'd actually hurt her. I intervened to tell her that regardless of the problem we don't hit others, but she began screaming that he hit her on purpose. I told her that he could not have meant to hurt her and that he'd apologized. To which she screamed that he didn't mean it. And then, like a good adult, I dropped some good adult science: "How do we know if someone means something or not" I asked? "We just have to trust that since he said he was sorry he meant it." That was deep of me, and of course she was stumped. Ugh, sorry kid.

I asked her if she was OK and where she was hurt. She pointed to her leg and her arm, and I asked her if she wanted to see a teacher. She said she did so I looked around and couldn't find anyone even remotely aware of anything other than their own child. Certainly no teachers. In the end, another dad showed up and said pretty much exactly what I had, ignoring me completely, until one of the girl's classmates showed up and helped her hobble off to class.

What could I have done differently? I looked for a teacher, there weren't any.. I couldn't leave my 3 year-old any my 5-month-old sitting there while I escorted the mildly wounded girl to the office. And where were the girl's parents? I recognized her from earlier when a mom who recognized her asked who was watching her and she said no one, that she'd been dropped off while her mom went to work. Times are tough but it sucks being left alone at the playground when you're that age, and for god knows how long.

Well, I can't say that I left the greatest impression on my daughter. I tried to get her a swing, and sort of failed, twice. I tried to help a couple of kids work out their problems only to be usurped by another dad. Thankfully, the bell rang so I could get my girl to class and leave so I could dwell on this situation for the rest of the day.

another poem...

you don't
  tell me
how to
 write
poe
try