Natural Childbirth: Under the Skeptical Movement's Radar?

People in the skeptic movement are well acquainted with a great deal of common quackery due to articles in publications such as Skeptic Magazine, Skeptical Inquirer, bloggers such as Harriet Hall, the SkepDoc, and speakers at conferences like James Randi's Amazing Meeting. On topics of how irrational, anti-science thought impacts health, these skeptics-at-large regularly touch on homeopathy, anti-vaccine activists, chiropractic nonsense, acupuncture, detoxing, and even repressed memory.

But one rapidly growing and potentially dangerous trend in alternative medicine has largely been ignored by big name advocates of skepticism and skeptic organizations. In general, it is the natural childbirth movement, and specifically, the increasing popularity of homebirths.

Googling "natural childbirth skepticism" produces some revealing results. At the top is an article which is in fact skeptical of natural childbirth, although not published by any organization focused on the promotion of science and skeptical inquiry. It is Skepticism of the Natural Woman by Amanda Marcotte, published last year in Slate, and is a sassy, feminist counter to the idea that natural childbirth is better for women. The next two links are to articles posted in a blog called The Healthy Skeptic, which is in fact run by an acupuncturist who promotes a good deal of woo.

A search of Skeptic Magazine's archives for "natural childbirth" produced no relevant articles.

A search on skepdic.com of "natural childbirth" produced no entries on the practice and a search of "homebirth" produced only one story about a "homeopathic homebirth" buried under a number of examples of harm done by "occult, paranormal, pseudoscientific, and supernatural beliefs."

Nothing about Natural Childbirth made its way into Dr. Harriet Hall "the SkepDoc"'s 2009 article Top Ten Things You Should Know About Alternative Medicine and a search for "natural childbirth" and "homebirth" produces no entries on her blog.

In eight seasons of Bullshit!, Penn and Teller find room for whole episodes on lawns and cheerleaders, but the closest they ever got to criticizing natural childbirth was when they reached for the low-hanging fruit of dolphin-assisted birth.

I must give credit to Skeptical Inquirer. Searching their archives online, I was able to find one article on this subject: 'Natural' Childbirth by Ben Radford, published in the March/April 2006 issue.

The absence of much attention on the natural childbirth movement and increased advocacy and demand for homebirths in skeptic circles begs the question: is this actually something to be concerned about, or does natural childbirth have a sound basis in science and are homebirths just as safe as hospital births? After all, even the Wikipedia entry on natural childbirth makes no mention of any criticisms. So is there really a problem?

I would answer, skeptics should be concerned.

In 2009 I got pregnant and had a baby. What became an epic journey began at a prestigious but humongous hospital, moved to a small birth center, and ended up back at a large hospital. At the start I had lots of fear and few opinions or knowledge of pregnancy and birth, then decided to attempt a totally natural childbirth (efforts which included 24 hours of active labor with no pain killers), then had an epidural, a pitocin drip, and finally an emergency c-section. Involved were several obstetricians and other doctors, many certified nurse midwives, a couple of doulas, a psychologist, and an army of nurses. The long version of the story isn't necessary. Sufficed to say that I experienced almost every typical aspect of childbirth in America today.

Now I'm pregnant again, and the options are more complicated since I had a previous c-section. This and all that happened in 2009 has motivated me to learn as much as I can about childbirth, and it is during these inquiries that I have become fully aware of what has been dubbed by the media as the birth wars.

The birth wars have often been simplified as doctors verses midwives. In this simplification, obstetricians are painted as scientifically brilliant and competent, but also cold, selfish, and arrogant, and midwives are viewed as experts in transforming one of the most horrible experiences for pregnant women into one of the most wonderful, but also hit-and-miss as far as medical competency goes. Of course the truth is far more complex.

First, many of the criticisms of obstetricians coming from the "other side" of the birth wars are unfounded and incredibly insulting. The contentions include that obstetricians use pitocin to induce labor for the sake of their own convenience, that they discourage or refuse to offer VBAC (vaginal birth after c-section) out of personal fears of being sued and total disregard for what is best for the patient, and generally push for unnecessary c-sections because they like doing surgery and make more money that way. These accusations and more are frequently and casually expressed by advocates on the side of natural childbirth. They were expressed in Ricki Lake's film The Business of Being Born, and they come up over and over again in literature and websites advocating natural childbirth.

Midwives come in a several stripes, and can hardly be aligned as a whole group to one side in the birth wars. Many fall somewhere in the middle of a spectrum between the two sides. There are two basic types of midwife in America. Certified Nurse Midwives (CNMs) are trained and certified as both nurses and midwives. They most typically work in hospitals. They are part of and have a good reputation within the medical establishment. The other type is direct-entry midwives, who gain their experience through self study, apprenticeships, or midwifery programs. They most frequently work in homebirth settings. Some direct-entry are Certified Professional Midwives (CPMs), certified by the North American Registry of Midwives. Others are merely licensed in a particular state, and still others are lay midwives. As one can imagine, direct-entry midwives level of training, experience, and competency can vary widely. Whenever horror stories of homebirths gone wrong appear in the news, the midwife involved is a Direct-entry midwife.

While most midwives tend to advocate natural childbirth to some degree, CNMs tend to be more knowledgeable and concerned with risk factors that might disqualify a woman from attempting totally natural childbirth.

For example, the Birth Center I went through will not accept clients who are VBAC, over a certain age or weight, pregnant with multiples, and many other risk factors. Women in labor had transfer to the hospital across the street if any complications ensued. Roughly 20% of the Birth Center's clients end up giving birth at the hospital, and 10% end up having a c-section. I was in that 10%.

I never had any doubts about the care I received at the Birth Center. All the midwives were experienced CNMs. I was required to have blood tests for various risks such as parvovirus B19. 24 hours after my water broke we promptly packed up and went to the hospital. After many hours of excruciatingly painful contractions, a midwife was the one to strongly recommend an epidural so that I could relax, rest, and have enough strength to push. And when it finally became apparent that a c-section was necessary, a midwife stood side by side with the doctor, explaining the process and paperwork I was required to sign. Clearly this was a competent operation where the health of mother and child are paramount. Right?

In the case of my first pregnancy, yes, the Birth Center's approach was competent, totally appropriate, and ultimately successful. Any pregnancy that ends with a healthy baby and mother is a success. So here's the problem. This time around I'm no longer a totally low-risk candidate. When I found out I was pregnant again, I immediately called the Birth Center. I found out I couldn't have my second baby there, so I asked for recommended options. I was given a short list of CNMs who work at or with hospitals, which was great.

But then the person on the phone said, "I can also give you the names of midwives who do homebirths." What!? If it isn't considered safe enough for me to attempt VBAC at a top notch Birth Center across the street from a hospital, why the hell would it be safe for me to try it in my home that is a 20 minute car ride (not accounting for traffic) from the nearest hospital? If the Birth Center is responsible enough to not take on clients with higher risks, why would they be so irresponsible as to recommend alternatives which are even less safe? This is the influence of natural childbirth, a movement that is more motivated by crackpot theories and warm-and-fuzzy feelings than science and evidence.

Dr. Amy, the Skeptical OB, is a one-woman army at war with natural childbirth pseudoscience. In her article Is Natural Childbirth a Form of Quakery? she explains one characteristic of natural childbirth that might partially explain why it has managed to fly under the larger skeptical movement's radar:

"Unlike traditional pseudosciences (homeopathy, creationism) which have always denigrated scientific research, in the last decade, natural childbirth advocates have based the validity of their philosophy on the claim that it is supported by science while modern obstetrics is not."

Dr. Amy points out that the founder of natural childbirth, Grantly Dick-Read, was a white man whose ideas about childbirth are not rooted in any science, and whose writings and work were motivated by his concern that upper class white women were not having enough children to keep up with poor, black women.

Dr. Amy also writes frequently (and harshly) about "the mother of authentic midwifery", Ina May Gaskin. An article in Salon about Gaskin mentions her total lack of formal medical training, and more startling, the story of how one of her own children died during a natural childbirth that could have been prevented had it happened in a traditional medical setting.

Quotes from both Dick-Read and Gaskin, as well as quotes from other major proponents of natural childbirth are frought with bullshit, identifiable as such to any seasoned skeptic. Consider these:

"It is important to keep in mind that our bodies must work pretty well, or their wouldn't be so many humans on the planet." - Ina May Gaskin (Yeah, let's just ignore the fact that childbirth has always been a leading cause of death for women and babies. There's billions of people on earth, therefore childbirth must be inherently safe!)

"Women's bodies have near-perfect knowledge of childbirth; it's when their brains get involved that things can go wrong." -Peggy Vincent (Silly brains, always getting in the way.)

"I have personally come to believe that childbirth is a blessing to women sent straight from God. I mean, in its purest form, birth is the most fantastic orgasm married with a miracle! What more heavenly gift could there be?" -Laurie Annis Morgan (Yes, those pesky doctors are trying to take away the best orgasm of your life. And a miracle. Those bastards.)

But, hell, if pregnant women at low-risk for complications want to think of childbirth without painkillers as some kind of earth-shattering, mega-spiritual experience, let 'em. So long as the end result is a healthy mom and baby, it's all good. The problem arises when even women with greater risk factors and their midwives are so moved by the power and importance of having a natural childbirth experience that they don't take proper precautions and take necessary actions when complications ensue, putting both the woman and child in harm's way.

Let's get to the real meat of the debate. To put it most bluntly, will more babies die during homebirths than would have had they been delivered in hospitals? Many advocates of natural childbirth mention the United States's high c-section rate and connect it with the USA's realtively high infant mortality rate. Dr. Amy argues that infant mortality is the wrong statistic:

"It is a measure of pediatric care. That's because infant mortality is deaths from birth to one year of age. It includes accidents, sudden infant death syndrome, and childhood diseases.

The correct statistic for measuring obstetric care (according to the World Health Organization) is perinatal mortality. Perinatal mortality is death from 28 weeks of pregnancy to 28 days of life. Therefore it includes late stillbirths and deaths during labor.

The US has one of the lowest rates of perinatal mortality in the world."

She further points out that the Netherlands, which has the highest percentage of homebirths in the world, also has a higher perinatal morality rate than any other European country.

If she's correct, then the rising rate of homebirths in the United States should be as alarming as the anti-vaccine crowd. After all, both put the most vulnerable in our population at risk.

Why is this not an issue regularly raised by skeptics-at-large? Could this be the result of what PZ Myers calls The Woman Problem? Or is it that the natural childbirth movement has managed to convincingly appear "evidence-based"? Whatever the reason, it seems clear to this skeptic that there needs to be more skeptical critics of the pseudoscientific and dangerous aspects of natural childbirth.

Review of Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother by Amy Chua

Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother is a memoir about one determined, workaholic mother with a clear and, at least by modern day American standards, controversial method for parenting. Chua is shamelessly boastful about her two daughters' accomplishments and her prominent role in pushing for their success. This should immediately puts Chua in disfavor with many, such as those who put "My kid beat up your honor student" bumper stickers on their cars. (Ah, American anti-intellectualism! I've never seen a bumper sticker lashing out at those who celebrate athletic achievement.) Chua's daughters' successes, and the explanation of how they were achieved through endless hours of rigidly enforced study and practice, undoubtedly make many parents feel inadequate. Right off, Chua aims to prove that hard work produces results.

This is not to say that Chua believes or means to claim that her methods are ultimately superior. She wants to believe that Tiger Mothers are the best mothers, that's for sure. But she cannot help but also share with the reader, in sometimes humiliating detail, the stories of her lost battles, particularly with her younger daughter Lulu. Chua mocks herself with a rather dry wit that I suspect many of her critics do not get, but which seems quite apparent in passages such as this:

"After all those excruciating hours preparing for the Julliard audition, and then the food poisoning and the rejection letter, you'd think that I would have given Lulu a break. I probably should have. But that was two years ago, when I was much younger, and I didn't."

Chua is ruthless in her attacks on many aspects of "Western parenting" (a term she admittedly uses loosely, and which mainly refers to a rather hands-off approach to parenting that concerns itself primarily with maintaining high self-esteem in children.) This hardly means that she is uncritical of "Chinese parenting" (another term she says she uses very loosely, and which refers to an extremely controlling approach focused on measurable achievement such as high grades and prestigious awards.) Chua insists that "Chinese mothers" will settle for nothing less than their children being number one. This is obviously not possible in settings where there is more than one Chinese mother. Much of Chua's hyperbole is shaped by her being a Chinese-American woman, married to a white, Jewish man, living in America. Where she lives, she is alone in her Tiger Mother approach. She had good reason to believe her children could achieve the level of comparative success in school and in music that they did. However, proud she is of how she raises her daughters, she admits:

"The Chinese parenting approach is weakest when it comes to failure; it just doesn't tolerate that possibility. The Chinese model turns on achieving success. That's how the virtuous circle of confidence, hard work, and more success is generated."

Chua may call herself a "Chinese mother", but in reality she is more a product of competing cultural influences. This is no more clearly shown as by the relentless self-consciousness with which she identifies as a "Chinese mother". Real Chinese mothers (in other words, those who are embedded in that particular culture and society) are unlikely to think much about their identity as such. Why would they if they live in a place where they experience no resistance to their traditional way of doing things? Values such as upholding family honor, displaying utmost respect for authorities, emphasizing competition among children, and viewing childhood as a time for rigorous preparation for adulthood are simply taken for granted. Chua takes none of these for granted. Instead, she feels a deep desire to defend these not-very-Western ways of thinking, and even when her methods fail, she remains convinced of the traditional Chinese values behind them. This is likely to at least slightly disturb anyone who does not share Chua's values. I must admit that while I was profoundly moved by some scenes in the book, and at times felt I could relate, there were other times that I felt quite distant and cringed just because I don't think that way. But I refuse to condemn Chua for having different values from my own; that would go against my own value of pluralism. Also, another very Western value (that I happen to hold) is the idea that individuals should be true to themselves. When it comes down to it, that is what Amy Chua has done in her parenting approach.

Perhaps the reason I don't mind (and often even relish) how superior Chua feels about her method of parenting is because it's a refreshing change. I'm tired of how judgmental and self-righteous many modern, American parents can be about their approach to child-rearing, which puts so much emphasis on happiness and socialization, and so little on measurable achievement and the acquisition of knowledge. I have heard many, fellow parents express concern over whether their children will feel "normal" and "like they belong", and none express a concern that their children will be mediocre when they could be extraordinary.

I find it telling that the highly cherished quality of happiness, unlike academic skills, is particularly difficult to measure. Depending on a person's idea of happiness, he or she might give quite a range of answers to the question "How happy are you?"

And while some experts have found evidence of how happy Americans are, others report that we are trending toward unhappiness. Amy Chua ponders the question of it in her book, and comes to the conclusion that Western kids do not grow up any happier than Asian kids, and I tend to agree with her. The old cliche that money can't buy happiness is often repeated, however, some studies correlate greater income with greater overall satisfaction with life. And from my totally subjective point of view, I get an awesome feeling when I'm working hard on something, and I gain a deep sense of satisfaction from hard-won accomplishments. On the other hand, the areas of my life where I feel depressed are often connected with times when I feel I gave up or never tried for fear of failure.

For Chua, failure is never a consideration. You work your ass off and achieve. And when that's not enough to reach the goal, you work even harder until it is. Setbacks comes, but you don't let them destroy your confidence. It is an incredibly empowering mentality. It never occurs to Chua that her daughters do not have enough natural ability to get A's in every subject. Westerners, on the other hand, regularly come to conclusions such as "He/She is just not good at math" despite the fact that math is a subject where anyone can improve a great deal if they put enough time and effort into it. It doesn't mean that anyone can become a Pulitzer Prize winning mathematician, but certainly most children could get A's in public school math classes if they put the necessary effort into it.

I am reminded of my own experiences with math in school. In junior high I struggled with the subject, getting mostly C's on tests, and eventually was sent to "the van" for one-on-one tutoring. It felt humiliating to be sent to the van until I took my next test and earned an A. I felt an incredible surge of confidence and pride. Three years later as a junior in high school, I struggled again, and this time sought additional instruction from my math teacher after school. Again, my C's turned into A's. Having learned this lesson, in college math I put extra time and effort into homework and again saw a tutor outside of class, and again I achieved A's. It saddens me to think that many children probably never learn this lesson - that the secret to academic success is hours of study - because no one ever pushes them (and they never push themselves) hard enough to realize their potential. Instead, many people go around thinking that being smart is something people are born with.

Some have criticized Chua and parents like her have no meaningful appreciation for knowledge, no love of life, and are at their core motivated by a desire for riches. I notice that this criticism always comes from people who are themselves financially stable. While greed for its own sake is certainly a vice, the achievement of sufficient and stable means is what allows people enough freedom for political activism, art appreciation, hobbies, charity, and many other activities that can greatly enrich a person's experience of life. It might sound noble to say, "I don't care about money, I just want to be happy." But I notice that it is mostly middle class teenagers and college students who express such sentiments. People in their 30's or older, particularly those saddled with a mortgage, car payments, rising energy and food costs, health insurance and co-pays, student loans, and kids (or a desire to have kids but not the means to support them) tend to care a lot about money since they realize that not having enough definitely impedes on one's happiness.

There are two more criticisms of Chua's book that I tend to dismiss. The first is that she is exploiting stereotypes in order to sell a book. No doubt, the marketing of Chua's book emphasized the sensational and aimed to stir up controversy. How much of this is Chua's personal marketing strategy and how much is the publisher's is anyone's guess. To those with a more refined sensibility, these tactics and rhetoric come off as crass, even grotesque. However, that sort of marketing works. Those bloggers and columnists who have criticized Chua for such tactics have contributed to that system by giving her book even more exposure, and they have hypocritically benefited from that system by adding their own voice and name to the controversy. Sufficed to say, marketing is a dirty game, but it is one that anyone trying to sell anything must participate in. Are we really going to waste words criticizing Chua for being good at it?

The other criticism I dismiss is that her parenting approach is rooted in selfishness. The idea is that her only real motivation is bragging rights over her daughter's accomplishments. What a mean thing to assume about any parent! Chua herself deals with such accusations in the book, and with sharper wit than I can. To quote her:

"To be honest, I sometimes wonder if the question 'Who are you really doing this for?' should be asked of Western parents too. Sometimes I wake up in the morning dreading what I have to do and thinking how easy it would be to say, 'Sure Lulu, we can skip a day of violin practice.' Unlike my Western friends, I can never say, 'As much as it kills me, I just have to let my kids make their choices and follow their hearts. It's the hardest thing in the world, but I'm doing my best to hold back.' Then they get to have a glass of wine and go to yoga class, whereas I have to stay home and scream and have my kids hate me."

The fact is, there is no right way to parent. Different kids, within the same family, respond better or worse to radically different approaches, and it is impossible to predict what will be successful or disastrous with any given child. No parents, no matter how good their intentions, no matter how willing to sacrifice themselves, can avoid screwing their kids up, at least a little. I think a lot of modern parents agonize over this realization and the pressures of having to choose a single parenting approach. Many decide to take a very hands-off approach. And indeed, this approach works well for many children. But not all. Chua, quite consciously, chose the opposite approach of the total control-freak. It seems clear from her daughter Sophia's blog that her kids both love her and benefited from many aspects of such an upbringing. I'm sure she screwed them up some, but I doubt any more than the average kid.

There are those who view Chua as a hero and who take her book to be a parenting guidebook. I don't think those readers are paying close enough attention. The list on the back cover with the heading "How To Be A Tiger Mother" is a marketing hook. (Duh.) Chua makes it clear both in the book and in more lengthy interviews about the book that the "cruelty" toward her daughters described all took place and was understood within the highly personalized context of her immediate family. Chua trusted that her underlining love and respect would be assumed by her daughters. (Incidentally, she also describes frequently telling them she loves them and is so hard on them because she believes in their abilities. And when they make big achievements, she gives them praise.) Chua describes screaming, vicious arguments with Lulu, and then how minutes later they'd be cuddling and laughingly reenacting their fights to mock their own intensity. Not to give too much away, but when Lulu is in the early stages of adolescence, this pattern of fighting and easily making up starts to break down, and it is here and only here when Chua begins to pull back on her Tiger Mother approach. After getting to know Chua and her family in the earlier parts of the book, I found this narrative climax and its resolution both relieving and heart-breaking. In the end, it is clear that Chua has a strong bond with both of her daughters, and that she is not actually willing to drive them to hate her in any true or long-term sense.

I cringe at the idea of anyone reading this book as a guidebook and trying to superficially implement Chua's parenting methods. I suspect that being a Tiger Mother can only be successful when it is internalized through experience, and of course coupled with obvious feelings of love and respect for one's children.

Forget the controversy. Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother is a memoir, a personal story, not a manifesto. One more voice in the ever-evolving discussion of how to raise children.

Recipe: Spinach in Fruit Smoothies

Toddlers are notoriously picky eaters, and health-conscious parents often fret over the difficulty of getting our kids to eat enough fruits and vegetables. Some kids love just about any kind of fresh fruit, but others do not. I must have offered my daughter strawberries two dozen times before she finally tried some, and even now she'll only eat certain fresh, whole fruits, and only when she's in the mood. Vegetables, being more bitter in flavor and usually requiring cooking, are generally the most difficult type of food to get kids to eat enough of on a daily basis. I've found that constantly offering a wide variety of veggies (broccoli, carrots, green beans, sweet potatoes, and potatoes are favorites), steamed and topped with a little butter and salt will usually do the trick. I end up having to eat most of it myself, but I'm satisfied that as long as I keep offering it at lunch and dinner time, at least a couple servings a day end up in my kid's stomach. And it's not like it hurts to get more vegetables into my diet, too.

Smoothies are a super easy way to add whole fruit and some vegetables to a diet. Smoothies are far superior to fruit juice in that they contain less sugar and retain the fiber that helps fill us up, among having other health benefits.

A few years ago a friend of mine passed on a recipe for a smoothie that had been developed specifically to get a child to eat raw spinach. It was a complicated recipe that involved tofu, mango juice, and sweeteners. I tried it for myself, and it did taste fantastic. I have since experimented with simpler smoothie recipes. I've found that raw spinach can be added to just about any fruit smoothie, and it will not ruin the flavor - no sweeteners or exotic juices are necessary. These days I just throw together a smoothie based on whatever I happen to have on hand, but it occurs to me that I should start a collection of the most successful attempts. So here I present a much simpler version of the smoothie that got me started. Again, the taste of the spinach is so mild that it really gets lost, and the only evidence of its presence is the green color, which as you can tell from the photo, my kid doesn't mind one bit:

Mango Banana Spinach Smoothie

Blend together:

3/4 cup frozen mango

1 banana

1 cup loose raw spinach

1 cup water

The Samuel Jackson recording of Go The Fuck To Sleep

I finally got around to listening to the recording of Samuel L. Jackson reading Go The Fuck To Sleep:



When I first heard a clip from the recording on the radio, I reacted with simultaneous amusement and slight discomfort. The amusement was, of course, because the recording is hilarious. Jackson is a versatile voice talent, and so can effectively project a soothing tone for lines such as "The tiger reclines in the simmering jungle. The sparrow has silenced her cheep." and then switch to a convincing blend of pissed off and a little desperate daddy for the next lines, "Fuck your stuffed bear, I'm not getting you shit. Close yours eyes. Cut the crap. Sleep."

The slight discomfort comes from seeing yet another portrayal of an angry black man in mainstream media. I know, I know, I sound all "politically correct" even bringing it up, but anyone who questions the excess amount of images on magazine covers, album covers, newspapers, movies and television, billboards, etc. really isn't paying attention. Black men are disproportionately portrayed as violent criminals, womanizers, and bad fathers. So it is a little weird to have a book written by a white man and illustrated with images of a white child being read by an obviously black man. It is almost as if because people expect a black man to be pissed off, we're okay with one cursing out a child, and therefore we feel okay laughing about it. I keep imagining the text being read in other voices: an effeminate white guy, a gruff, slow, Southern drawl, a syrupy-sweet woman's, or maybe instead a sharp, nasally woman's voice. Would any of these be as funny to a general audience as Jackson's deep and sometimes reassuring, sometimes intimidating, and undeniably African American voice? I really don't know, I just wonder.

Similarly, novelist Amy Sohn questions whether a woman could have written Go The Fuck To Sleep and had it be just as successful. Just as people have become accustomed to the image of the angry black man, fathers are not expected to be as patient, attentive, and generous to their children as mothers. And just as I would argue that perhaps a general audience is more comfortable with a black man reading this book, Sohn argues that a general audience is more comfortable with man having written it.

Again, I don't know the answers to these questions. I suspect I'm in a tiny minority of people who tries to cultivate a personal awareness of how different groups of people are presented in media and how that might influence my own prejudices. I'm certainly not arguing that there is any conspiracy out there to get people to think of black men as angry. Stereotypes are usually perpetuated in a much more fluid and unconscious manner. I also don't want to develop an oversensitivity to negative stereotypes, to the point where I can't enjoy such a talented readings as this. Ironically, when I first heard of the book Go To Fuck To Sleep, in my mind I imagined a white, woman author, because I felt I could relate to the concept so well. The text of the story bobs back and forth between gentle and poetic coaxing and I'm-at-the-end-of-my-rope frustration. Boy is that familiar.

It isn't just that young children are often difficult to get to sleep. It is also that at the end of the day, working parents (and most parents work full time these days) are just plain exhausted. And no matter how much we love our little munchkins, everyone eventually runs out of patience. When I read Go The Fuck To Sleep or listen to the recording, I see myself reading The Runaway Bunny or Pajama Time! for the millionth time in a soft, yet expressive tone of voice, while deep in my mind I'm also screaming, "For the love of all that is good and decent in the world, just fucking nod off already so I can clean the kitchen!" In his reading, Jackson's tone conveys not only anger and frustration, but love. After all, if we didn't love them, we'd forgo the 38+ minute bedtime stories altogether and just lock them in their rooms screaming.

A Graph of the Heart

As my hometown just won a major sporting event, I'm moved to write about kinesthetic motor intelligence, or the use of information through the sense of touch, muscles, balance, and movement to learn about the world.

It's not a subject I see written about or discussed frequently among Humanist communities where there are lots of sweat pants and not much sweat. This probably helps explain why I didn't even know the Phillies were in the World Series until a week ago. Humanists tend to value intellectualism, especially scientific inquiry, philosophical skepticism, and general curiosity about the natural world. But what about the personal knowledge which can be gained through the experience of shaping our physical bodies? Humanists tend to value camaraderie built on shared social concerns. But what about the value of sportsmanship and the ecstasy of physical engagement? Perhaps many Humanists undervalue sports and other physical activities because we long to balance out the over-embrace of sports (often to the degree of cult-like fanaticism) alongside anti-intellectualism in mainstream American culture.

A few years ago, the Matrix movies inspired the creation of The Animatrix, a collection of nine short animated films set in the fictional Matrix world. One, "World Record," caught my attention in particular.It featured a champion track runner, Dan Davis, who escapes the virtual reality of the Matrix through sheer kinesthetic motor intelligence. In an intense race, understanding of how his body works, its strength, speed, and in pushing it to its limits, Davis rips away the sham of the virtual world. When he suddenly awakens in the "real world" he is shocked, frightened, and confused, and I felt a deep sense of compassion, realizing that on top of having no literal concept of what he had achieved, in the "real world" his olympian muscles were atrophied and left him at the mercy of the machines. Yes, I know, the lesson is an oldie in the realm of science fiction - but a goodie!

I once dated a computer programmer who bragged about his rejection of exercise. Ironically, he later dated a woman who was so athletic that he, too, came to love biking and other physical activities long after that relationship dissolved.

People get physical for all sorts of personal reasons. My brother Geoff originally got involved with exercise and weight training to be more competitive on his high school wrestling team. As match day came closer, he'd fast and run in a garbage bag to knock off as many pounds as possible for the weigh-in. Later Geoff developed aspirations to become an actor, an unforgiving profession which requires constant physical maintenance and control. Over the years Geoff has become increasingly sophisticated about both his diet and body sculpting. Many of his former classmates didn't even recognize him at his ten year high school reunion and remarked that he had "changed the most" in his appearance. Geoff currently does an hour and a half of yoga a day and bikes wherever he can. His passion for yoga even inspired a side career, working toward certification in Budokonyoga with founder Cameron Shayne (pictured below engaged in Zen meditation.)


Two guy friends of mine both got involved in weight training to bulk up their naturally slim physiques. Just as too much fat is deemed unattractive by conventional standards of beauty, being too skinny - particularly in men - is considered undesirable.

My dad used to walk constantly, to the point of benefiting from the high of endorphins that physical activity releases. Years ago when he was a smoker, he'd manage to quit for short spurts of time by walking half a day's journey to his brother's house, spending the night, then walking back home the next day. The intensity of such extensive walk would actually take away his cigarette cravings for the following three weeks! Today my dad insists that walking is not enough. Just as his marathon walks didn't help him quit nicotene permanently (years of weaning himself off with chewing tobacco and then nicorette gum did that,) his walks weren't enough to ward off heart disease. After bypass surgury, my dad has become the model of physical health. His 10% fat vegan diet and morning workouts at the recreation center are treated with religious devotion.

I never had great coordination, but I was naturally thin, so in high school I ran track and cross country. I hated competition, but enjoyed the energy a good run would give me that lasted the rest of the day. The continued jogging for years after high school, until at the age of 23 I developed plantar faciitus. Plantar faciitus is the most common cause of foot pain. It involves an inflammation of a ligament which stretches across the arch of one's feet. Mine is probably caused by high arches which caught up to me as I slowly gained weight with age. At first I went into denial about the pain, continuing to run and making the problem worse. Eventually it got bad enough that I had to quit regular jogging for good, but after several years I've learned to manage and prevent the pain through simple exercises, good shoes, and a night brace. Losing my ability to run lead to years of foregoing regular exercise, which for the most part didn't matter since I, like my father, always walked a lot. But after graduate school, I got a job commuting. I gained fifteen pounds, suffered from frequent migraines, and became generally miserable about my body. I made a lot of excuses about why I couldn't exercise, but eventually my excuses ran out. It has taken a while to get into a consistent routine, but I've finally found a nice mix of biking instead of driving whenever possible, and doing regular pilates and some yoga.

My journey toward a regular exercise routine really took off with exercise videos. My brother recommended a yoga instructor, but that didn't work out. I'm not a huge fan of yoga. I become easily bored and frustrated with long poses. To be honest, most of the videos I've tried have ended with me shouting obscenities at the screen and deleting them from my Netflix cue within the first twenty minutes. What can I say, I'm picky. But I've found one instructor I like a lot.

Instructor Ellen Barrett(pictured here) did a series of videos through the NYC fitness center Crunch. My favorites are Fat Burning Pilates, Super SlimDown, and Burn and Firm, and I couldn't tell you how many times I've watched each one - each at least once a week for the past three months, with no sign of boredom. I've lost the fifteen pounds I gained the last two years, and much to my joy and relief, am no longer commuting.

Obviously everyone has to find their own comfort zone with physical activity. We're not all shaped the same way, and we all have our own limitations. Just as I found myself cursing at videos of the yoga instructor my brother adored, I'm sure many would find Ellen Barrett's classes corny, or a real bore. One friend of mine who happens to be heavy told me about a yoga class uniquely tailored for overweight people that she enjoyed.

The coolest part of biking, pilates and yoga for me is that I find myself flexing muscles that before I wasn't even aware of. I'll be rubbing a print and realize that I'm toning my abs, or walking up steps and feel the strength I've gained in certain leg muscles. It reminds me of when I learned something in math class as a kid, and then suddenly had an opportunity to use what I learned in real life. Indeed there is knowledge to be gained through exercise; the term "kinesthetic motor intelligence" makes a lot of sense. It is my hope that the type of knowledge I gain from all this physical activity will help me deal better and even conquer some of my fears of pregnancy.

Of course what anyone gains from intense physical engagement is quite personal. Experiences can be described, but not shared. As in art, opposed to math, the emotional connection to physical activity is penetrating. If I wake up sad but have to bike an hour downtown and then back again, my mood is elevated and I go to bed at night content and happier to be alive. The dancer and choreographer Martha Graham wrote, "Every dance is a kind of fever chart, a graph of the heart." May we all recognize the joy and necessity of dancing every day.

The Universality of Blue Skies and War

This month my Humanist group's movie night featured Michael Moore's latest film:Slacker Uprising. The documentary follows Moore's tour to energize the young and politically apathetic to vote for John Kerry in the 2004 presidential election. It is mostly a series of speeches and musical performances by Moore and other celebrities who participated in his tour's rallies.

I was most moved by Joan Baez singing "Finlandia" not least of all because she said the song was the Finnish National Anthem, and yet the lyrics talk of how the skies in other lands are as blue as in "my land" and then goes on to wish for peace in and between all nations.

Alas, Baez got it wrong. I did a search for "lyrics Finland national anthem" and kept finding a song with completely different lyrics. I then found this comment about the performance on YouTube:

Hate to put a damper on a touching performance, but not only is "Finlandia" not the national anthem of Finland, its original Finnish lyrics are in fact made up of very traditional patriotic sentiments of a small nation's struggle against tyranny.

Joan Baez is in fact singing a Methodist hymn composed to the same tune. Even us Finns can only dream of saluting our country with such universal sentiments of solidarity and peace between nations.

This disappointment aside, I contemplated the lyrics of the USA's national anthem - a beautifully-worded poem about war. Beautifully-worded poems about war are a lot like beautifully-painted art about war: they romanticize and glorify that which should never be romanticized or glorified.









Washington Crosses the Delaware byEmanuel Leautze

Ever come across the entire lyrics of Star Spangled Banner? Check 'em out. Throughout the poem, there's images of death: havoc, blood, gloom, grave. And yet these are intermingled with the ever-present and triumphant image of the waving flag (victory not only justifies the carnage, it exalts it), and the reassuring message that a Higher Power wanted the new nation to triumph and thus made it so. We end with:

Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust":
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

How reckless and arrogant must people be to assume not only that a just God favors their nation over others, but that this favoritism justifies one of the worst of man-made horrors: war.

Paintings which glorify war often do the same. They present the "good guys" in a way which makes them seem supernaturally fated in their struggle (note the glowing light around Washington as he towers above his companions) and even when there is the depiction of dead or mutilated bodies, they are prettied-up caricatures, which distance us from the disturbing realities of war violence.

Thank goodness more contemporary artists such as Francisco Goya and John Singer Sargent, and countless journalistic photographers, broke from this absurd and harmful tradition by presenting images of war as the gruesome and frightful reality that they are.






Francisco Goya, Los Fusilamentos del 3 de mayo en Madrid












Timothy H. O’Sullivan, Harvest of Death









John Singer Sargent, Gassed






As I contemplate the lyrics of my own country's national anthem, I can't help be reminded of other songs about America, and wonder if there aren't some far more appropriate than a big glorification of war and claim that God is firmly on our side for an official national anthem.

Probably the most popular is "America the Beautiful" (sung amazingly by Ray Charles.) This song, like our anthem, has a lot of beautifully-worded and descriptive poetry, but instead of being about war, it is about the landscape. And while it does mention God, at least it doesn't assume God is on America's side, but rather, it asks for blessings. Sadly, if you look at its lyrics in their entirety, not only is the song largely a prayer (not exactly a choice anthem for the most religiously diverse nation in the world - including 15% nonreligious - and the first to establish church-state separation,) but at some point it, too, romanticizes the Revolutionary War as little more than a glorious battle between victims and tyrants:

O beautiful for glory-tale
Of liberating strife
When once and twice,
for man's avail
Men lavished precious life!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
Till selfish gain no longer stain
The banner of the free!

Whether the Revolutionary War caused more good or ill, war is never something to celebrate, and the circumstances of war are never so purely noble, or black and white.

Back to the movie. For a liberal like me who is depressed-to-the-point-of-feeling-numb by the longterm negative impact the Bush administration's War on Terror and Iraq, watchingSlacker Uprising was more bitter than sweet. I went door to door for MoveOn in 2004 and spent all day at the polls. When I saw Philly carrying Pennsylvania for Kerry, I rejoiced and truly believed he would win. The loss just put me in a state of emotional deadness, which is how a lot of political apathy starts.

Michael Moore must have a clear understanding of the apathetic, because as the film came to a close, all those speeches and musical performances had actually got me to feel again. As if Kerry were losing the election all over again, for the first time I felt tears start to whell up in my eyes. Worse yet, while I felt sad, I also felt helpless and hopeless, and it was just at that moment that Moore ordered his audience to buck up, and with a smile on his face said,"There's no crying in politics!"

If only that were true.

But hey, even if it isn't true, hearing that made me smile instead of cry. And I signed up today to work the streets on election day. Whether there is crying in politics or not, there should always be hope.

Read to your kids about gay penguins for banned book week

A few months ago I discovered a book while browsing the children's section of a local book store. The title was And Tango Makes Three. The cover featured a delightful watercolor illustration of a family of penguins.

I picked it up and read it, perhaps because I'd recently seen and loved the movie Happy Feet, and was quickly struck by two surprises: first, that the penguin parents on the cover were two male penguins, and that the story - about their pairing-for-life and eventually "adopting" a needy egg - actually happened at the New York City's Central Park Zoo.

I found both the writing of the story and the illustrations so adorable that the book stayed in my mind. I added it to my Amazon.com wish list, with the intention to purchase once we have children, or perhaps to buy as a gift for the children of friends. And when I started this blog I figured that I would write about it, but hadn't yet found a relevant context to bring it up. Then, this week on Radio Times (10/3/08, hour 2), in honor of the American Library Association's Banned Book Week, I caught Marty Moss-Coane mentioning this title in a list of books which have been either "banned or challenged" in public libraries.

I should expect that a children's book about a healthy, functional family involving a gay couple would raised criticism from social conservatives, but I couldn't help feeling outraged. First of all, this story wasn't made up in some contrived fashion - it really happened. Second, everyone, including kids, should know that homosexual behavior happens in the animal kingdom. It's just a biological fact for goodness's sake! And third, it is a sweet story about the spirit of family. The story is relateable to anyone with has not only homosexuality, but adoption, or any other unconventional grouping, such as a live-in grandparent or close friend in their household. In other words, this book is about what makes family a good and important thing: behaving in a loving way toward each other.

Social conservatives criticized Phillip Pullman's His Dark Materials for being anti-Catholic, but I just read it, and I find these critics lacking in imagination and artistic sense. The triology obviously uses a lot of the tone, imagery, and terminology from the history of Catholicism to address the abuse of innocents. While I read certain portions of the book, I found myself thinking of child soldiers and human trafficking. The abduction of poor children from the streets by the "Gobblers" reminded me of a segment I heard on the radio last year about a group of Muslim extremists in Iraq who would desensitize new recruits by making them kidnap children who sell wares in the subway and then murder them. Children are among the most vulnerable in our population, and so they have always been victims. The abused in Pullman's trilogy could represent people from any culture or time in human history. Why did Pullman use Catholicism? Oh, gee, maybe because in the church's history it has often abused its power (just like most powerful institutions in history.) And all those elaborate costumes, titles, and rituals which just makes it perfect for fantasy fiction writing. Not to mention that when we recognize bits of our own world in speculative fiction, it makes the story more real for us.

I find myself thinking back to when the art exhibition Sensation was exhibited in New York City, and the outcry from Mayor Guiliani and other Catholics about Chris Ofili's Madonna:
One of his paintings, The Holy Virgin Mary, a depiction (portrait) of the Virgin Mary, was at issue in a lawsuit between the mayor of New York City, Rudy Giuliani, and the Brooklyn Museum of Art"Sensation" exhibit. The painting depicted a black African Mary surrounded by images from blaxploitation movies and close-ups of female genitalia cut from pornographic magazines, and elephant dung. These were formed into shapes reminiscent of the cherubim and seraphim commonly depicted in images of the Immaculate conception and the Assumption of Mary. Following the scandal surrounding this painting, Bernard Goldberg ranked Ofili #86 in 100 People Who Are Screwing Up America. Red Grooms showed his support of the artist by purchasing one of Ofili's paintings in 1999, even after Giuliani famously exclaimed, “There’s nothing in the First Amendment that supports horrible and disgusting projects!”
Ofili is of Nigerian decent, and in Nigeria elephant dung is regularly used in religious artwork and other ritualistic objects. In an interview, Ofili mentioned being raised Catholic and how the emphasis on Mary being a virgin made her a sexually charged figure for him, especially when he would go to museums and see painted versions of the Madonna (often of models who had slept with the painters who depicted them.) In this context, Ofili's paintings aren't offensive; they make genuinely unique and thoughtful observations about how some people come to understand religious icons through a subjective point of view.

But more important than this background info on Ofili's ethnicity and what he says about his own work is the work itself. So here, look. Does this look like something made to be blatantly offensive to Catholics? (The elephant dung, btw, are the 3D pieces on the bottom and the stone on her necklace chain, not that anyone would know that if they weren't told.)

Just as the gay dad penguins in And Tango Makes Three are a part of the story discovered along the way, the pornographic imagery and decorative use of the dung are parts of an image that tell a much greater story with a much more broad and nuanced meaning.

What is with the lack of imagination on the part of so many social conservatives? Do they just not understand what fiction and art are and do? They need to stop censoring what kids see and grow up themselves.