We have mothers’ day, we have grandparents’ day, we have children’s day and we have teachers’ day.  The proliferation of such days does get me a little cynical at times, but asides from the commercial aspect; they are all positive, loving days designed to honour a group in our community.  

This Friday we have ‘Hug-a-Ginga’ day, which seems to me to be to be a radio station’s big marketing stunt. Not being a commercial radio station listener, or a red-head, I hadn’t given much attention to this day in previous years.  But this year the ‘Hug-a-Ginga’ concept has attracted a bigger debate, and this got me thinking.

To me, ‘Hug-a-Anybody’ day gives the notion that this group is not used to being hugged, that on this one day of the year we should try and extend some charity and bless them with our sympathy. Transpose ‘ginga’ with any of the following: Pakeha, Maori, Fattie,  Asian, Gay...  you see my point.

Is 'gingerism' the last acceptable prejudice?

My adult red-headed friends take this day in good nature and play along and enjoy the comedy aspect and the extra attention.  And I think this was probably how the day was intended to be ‘celebrated’.  But my concern is for children. Red-headed kids cop more than their fair share of teasing as it is. Children ostracise those with differences and it is made worse when adults (indeed, media celebrities) are sanctioning and encouraging this bullying.    

This Friday, red-headed kids will have to play along with the ‘Hug-a-Ginga’ concept, or risk being further ostracised. I personally would feel violated if someone hugged me uninvited out of pity and charity. (And in schools, I can’t imagine many of these ‘Hug-a-Ginga’ acts will come from a position of love).   With a bullying culture a real problem in most of our schools and a horrific youth suicide rate, is the promotion of prejudice based on genetics and the promotion of bullying based on hair colour really something to celebrate?

Last week a group of 9 & 10 year old girls gyrating their way through a sexy dance performance horrified many, me included. 

The girls are obviously talented dancers, but the sexy skimpy black lacy outfits combined with the provacative dance moves amount to a degrading and totally inappropriate performance.

Facing widespread criticism, the girls parents have defended their daughters' performance:

"The costumes are designed for movement and to show bodylines..."

This interview makes the whole episode that much sadder for me.  The parents seem to have missed the point entirely.  As Danielle Miller, in the clip below points out, these girls are actually more scantily clad than Beyonce was in the original music video. 

I think one issue that this interview with the parents raises is how public our lives have become.  Whereever your children are, whatever they are doing, there is a chance that their activities are being videoed and that this video could end up on the world wide web.

If these girls had performed this dance a few years ago, it's highly unlikely anyone except the attendees would ever have seen it. However, it's 2010 and someone videoed the performance, put on YouTube and it went viral - it's now been viewed over 2 million times.   The saturation of technology in our lives and the ease at which information can be spread across the world means that as parents we have to be ever more vigilant about protecting our children against exploitation.

Everyone's lives seem to be so busy. I sometimes fall in to bed at night wondering what even happened that morning - the days are so full of lovely friends, inspiring work, and of course the mundane stuff such as washing the clothes, the dishes...

Today I realised the ability that children have to help one forget about all the concerns and deadlines in the world and focus on the 'real stuff'.  This morning my son and I danced in the beautiful autumn leaves for the first time together.  It was such bliss to run through a carpet of crunchy orange leaves and throw them up in the air and feel them falling on our heads.  Moments like that I will treasure for ever. Although it did make me realise: that was the first time I had done that since I was a child.

This morning my friend Alice shared a true story with me and it made me stop and think about how busy and rushed so many of us are, and how in the busy-ness of  everything we can so easily forget about beauty and 'life'. I wanted to share it with more people. (Thanks Alice!)

In Washington , DC , at a Metro Station, on a cold January morning in 2007, this man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, approximately 2,000 people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

• After about 3 minutes, a middle-aged man noticed that there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds, and then he hurried on to meet his schedule.
• After about 4 minutes: The violinist received his first dollar. A woman threw money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.
• At 6 minutes: A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.
  
• At 10 minutes: A 3-year old boy stopped, but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head the whole time. This action was repeated by several other children, but every parent - without exception - forced their children to move on quickly.
  
• At 45 minutes: The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.
  
• After 1 hour: He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed and no one applauded. There was no recognition at all.
  

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before, Joshua Bell sold-out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100 each to sit and listen to him play the same music.

Joshua Bell, playing incognito in the D.C. Metro Station, was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities.
This experiment raised several questions:

• In a common-place environment, at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty?
  
• If so, do we stop to appreciate it?
  
• Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?
  

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made... How many other things are we missing as we rush through life?

(The full story, with video clips, can be viewed here.)

The part of this that really touched me was the image of the mother hurrying her child along.  I have been that mother! I am going to try and remember this story whenever I have the urge to hurry my child along. I need to appreciate and love that children don't follow deadlines, and this is the beauty of childhood.

Some people claim to have bad memories.  But asked if there is one memory that sticks right there as vividly as it were yesterday, many people define it as that moment they learnt about sex.  It's interesting asking adults about the moment they learnt what sex was.  Everyone’s experience is so different and more often than not, it is a memory tinged with laughter and nostalgia.  Unfortunately for others, it is surrounded by shame and secrecy.  For me, I am lucky it is the former.  And here is my story.

I grew up in the country and attended a wonderful little village school that was like an extended family. These were such happy days and the presence of media and advertising rarely penetrated. Multi-coloured king-fu shoes were about the height of fashion awareness: functional clothes ruled. We gained status from how fast we could run and how long we could reign champion at four square or padder tennis. My parents had grown up in the city and were determined to experience all manner of menagerie on our 3 acre block – chickens, donkeys, goats, sheep, calves, ducks... and we kids were witness to mating, births, deaths and even vet students castrating our pet donkey (the operation photographed in graphic detail by my Dad and placed in the family photo album).  In light of this, my naivety around sex was astonishing.

When I was nine my parents casually gave me the seminal tome “Where Did I Come From?” and I duly opened the pages.  The book is filled with pictures of  a nude couple who bath and then hop into bed together.  The text tells you that sex is a really tight hug that makes you wiggle. Then something happens that feels like a sneeze, "but much better."  I was horrified.  People do THAT with each other? I just couldn’t believe that this was how babies were made!. Even worse, I had a younger brother and sister, so my parents had done this THREE TIMES! 

Later my parents and I sat down in the lounge to expand on the conversation.  They were open and keen to chat, but I was gob-smacked: All I could express was disgust.  I think my Dad found my horror amusing and possibly a bit over the top and must have attributed this to the fact that I actually knew all along what was happening. He kept telling me it was OK if I had known already – as I sat there shaking my head in horror. Dad even asked me what I thought was happening when we took our lady goats to the man goat every autumn – I replied that I just thought they loved to jump round with new goats for fun.  

Not long after this discussion with my parents, the topic came up amongst my group of girlfriends at school.  We had all recently found out about the ‘facts of life’, and im hushed tones we were discussing it amongst ourselves ior the first time.  My main memory of this conversation was how we all agreed how awful the concept of sex was. Then one friend realised in horror: Oh but I want to have children but I could never ever ever do THAT!  We all nodded in agreement, the weight of the world on our shoulders.  With heavy hearts we all made a pact that we would all have to adopt. I am still in contact with many of these friends and luckily I think we have all since broken that pact!

I would love to hear your story!