For those of my friends and family who LOVE Starbucks-
The Starbucks corporation has agreed to offer fair trade coffee in all their stores, if a customer asks for it. Many stores don't actually brew it unless someone specifically asks for it. The next time you visit Starbucks, ask for their Fair Trade blend, which is called Cafe Estima. You'll be helping to prevent human trafficking in the coffee industry and showing Starbucks that their customers value fair trade products.
Consumer demand for cheap goods and services motivates traffickers to enslave workers to pick our fruit, make our clothing, clean our hotel rooms, serve our food and do a number of other tasks. By buying fair trade goods, you support companies and products which ensure a living wage for the producers and humane working conditions. For more information on how you can stop human trafficking:
http://humantrafficking.change.org/blog/view/10_things_you_can_do_to_fight_human_trafficking
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Workout Journal #1
So, it's official..I'm ready to loose the last 15 lbs. that have haunted me the past 7 years. Well, really just the past 3 years. In total I wanted to loose..wait, I'm getting my calculator out- 35 lbs. That's how much I had left over from baby Lara in 2002. I lost 25 of those pounds before I went to Paris in 2006.
That was an awesome motivator by the way- I knew I was going to be looking at those pictures forever and I knew I didn't want to look the way I did. When Emily called me and told me that the trip was on and to go get my passport....I did...and came home from the post office and got on the treadmill. It was so gratifying. Just before the trip I went to buy some new clothes. I was looking through the racks with my girls when a saleswoman, who was rushing past and seemed slightly annoyed, looked me up and down and said, "Ma'am! You're in the wrong department. You need to shop over there." And thrust her finger toward the other side of the store demanding my obedience. Now, for those of you who know me well, this type of communication does NOT work well with me. Just as something terribly rude was about to spill forth from my lips- I realized- she was pointing me out of the 'plus-size woman' side to the 'misses' side of the store. All that came out of my mouth was an unbelievable, "Really? Thank you!". The clerk's back was already facing me and I couldn't believe I'd done it. Me. The girl who hides candy bars in her home. Who's favorite past-time is not rock climbing or hiking..it's watching movies or reading a book. I HATE to exercise....I've never felt the high that people are always talking about. I could sleep 12 hours a day if someone let me. Regardless, I went and got my pre-pregnancy size capris off the rack and headed to the fitting room. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I started crying in Old Navy. My girls were staring at me like I was nuts. Tears and smiles....I couldn't have been more proud of myself.
So, now I'm here again. Ready to conquer my insecurities about food, happiness, loneliness and self-doubt. I've put back on about- wait, calculator again, 7 of those 25 lbs. and I'm aiming to take off 17.
It's so hard to plan meals for your family and feed picking children (and a picky husband) when you're trying to loose weight. I feel guilty for taking time to myself and insisting on being left alone so I can work out. I stay at home full time- should my house be spotless before I workout? Should all the laundry be done? These are the things that go through my head and sometimes keep me off my weight-loss track. Did I mention that I homeschool all 3 of my kids and my husband travels out of state every other week?
How do you carve out time for yourself? How do you keep motivated when after two weeks you don't see any more weight loss? What stops you from meeting your goal? I'm going to log in this workout journal once a week. Good luck to me.
That was an awesome motivator by the way- I knew I was going to be looking at those pictures forever and I knew I didn't want to look the way I did. When Emily called me and told me that the trip was on and to go get my passport....I did...and came home from the post office and got on the treadmill. It was so gratifying. Just before the trip I went to buy some new clothes. I was looking through the racks with my girls when a saleswoman, who was rushing past and seemed slightly annoyed, looked me up and down and said, "Ma'am! You're in the wrong department. You need to shop over there." And thrust her finger toward the other side of the store demanding my obedience. Now, for those of you who know me well, this type of communication does NOT work well with me. Just as something terribly rude was about to spill forth from my lips- I realized- she was pointing me out of the 'plus-size woman' side to the 'misses' side of the store. All that came out of my mouth was an unbelievable, "Really? Thank you!". The clerk's back was already facing me and I couldn't believe I'd done it. Me. The girl who hides candy bars in her home. Who's favorite past-time is not rock climbing or hiking..it's watching movies or reading a book. I HATE to exercise....I've never felt the high that people are always talking about. I could sleep 12 hours a day if someone let me. Regardless, I went and got my pre-pregnancy size capris off the rack and headed to the fitting room. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I started crying in Old Navy. My girls were staring at me like I was nuts. Tears and smiles....I couldn't have been more proud of myself.
So, now I'm here again. Ready to conquer my insecurities about food, happiness, loneliness and self-doubt. I've put back on about- wait, calculator again, 7 of those 25 lbs. and I'm aiming to take off 17.
It's so hard to plan meals for your family and feed picking children (and a picky husband) when you're trying to loose weight. I feel guilty for taking time to myself and insisting on being left alone so I can work out. I stay at home full time- should my house be spotless before I workout? Should all the laundry be done? These are the things that go through my head and sometimes keep me off my weight-loss track. Did I mention that I homeschool all 3 of my kids and my husband travels out of state every other week?
How do you carve out time for yourself? How do you keep motivated when after two weeks you don't see any more weight loss? What stops you from meeting your goal? I'm going to log in this workout journal once a week. Good luck to me.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Is there really such a thing? Really? A Typical Mormon Woman?
I love it when I'm feeling something complicated and I find someone wonderful who has written it all out eloquently for me to pass on:) I know these struggles are not my own alone. Enjoy!
Requiem for a Typical Mormon Woman
Lisa Ray Turner, 1993
Rio Rancho, New Mexico
She is a Molly Mormon. Patty Perfect. The Typical Mormon Woman. Different names for the same woman. She sits quietly in sacrament meeting, dispensing Cheerios and quiet books with dignity. She teaches inspiring, non-controversial Relief Society lessons. She wears sensible shoes and bears a striking resemblance to June Cleaver. She’s always ready with whole wheat bread for the needy. She’s our role model, as quintessentially Mormon as the Golden Plates.
Does the Typical Mormon Woman sound familiar? She did to me. I felt like I was surrounded by hundreds of them every week at church. They talked with sugar-coated tongues. They listened to lessons (while smiling) and politely agreed with every word. They said things like, “Sister Smith has given such a beautiful lesson” when I, who had heard the same lesson, was thinking, “That was a trite, irritating lesson.” They spoke in the “Relief Society voice.” Breathy, soft-spoken, and gently.
These women even looked perfect. They wore handmade, feminine dresses and had fluffy hair. Their make-up was neither austere nor over-done, but—you guessed it—perfect! I was certain their homes were always immaculate. I couldn’t imagine them blasting through their living rooms in cleaning frenzies minutes before their visiting teachers arrived. I, on the other hand, panicked if anyone didn’t make an appointment a week in advance—that’s how long it took to get my house to look like their houses.
I wondered what was wrong with me. Why didn’t I get excited over the Cute Things we made in homemaking meetings? Why did many talks in church perturb me? Why did I question issues they took as gospel (pun intended)?
While trying to answer these questions, I realized I couldn’t cram myself into a mold that did not fit. I embarked on my own personal program of glasnost. I stopped trying to be a typical Mormon woman. In the process, I made some delightful discoveries. It’s okay to prefer books to embroidery patterns. It’s not a commandment to grind your own wheat. Temple recommends are given to those of us with messy houses and loud, sassy voices. I can claim, as my own, unconventional opinions. I learned—ever so gingerly—to separate the gospel from the Church.
I wondered whether other women felt like I did. I started to talk—and listen—to women in the Church. Really talk. No more, “Good morning, Sister Jones. That jello salad that you made for homemaking was sure delicious.” I wanted to know Typical Mormon Women. What were their aspirations and feelings? How did they feel about taboo subjects like polygamy? Did they yell at their kids? I decided to find out.
As I got to know the women of my ward, I heard one phrase over and over: “I’m not the typical Mormon woman, but…” Sometimes I wasn’t surprised by this admission. But frequently, I’d assumed I was talking to the gold standard of Mormon womanhood and was chocked that she considered herself atypical. If nobody would admit to being a typical Mormon woman, where was she? I thought I’d found her when I spoke with a woman who personified everything in the Relief Society manual—in fact, every manual in the Church. She was a beautiful woman who often espoused the values of staying close to the hearth and supporting priesthood-holding husbands. She had seven children and a beautiful home. She was nice—genuinely, honestly kind, not that cloying artificial niceness that gives nightmares to a diabetic. And, the final clincher, she was smart, knowledgeable about world events, and involved in the community. She was what we were all trying to be.
To my astonishment, she said, “Well, you know, I’m certainly not the typical Mormon woman, but…” My mouth dropped to my knees. If she was not a Typcial Mormon Woman, there were none. Not in Michigan, New York, California, Europe, or Asia. Even dare I say it, not in Utah! The Typical Mormon Woman was dead. I grieved her loss. I had gotten used to her. She was like a pair of tight shoes: at first they pinch and hurt, but eventually they become comfortable, even if they aren’t a perfect fit. Now to realize that she never existed in the first place…well, this revelation opened a whole new world. Could it be that Mormon women were truly diverse? I had often wondered whether diversity within Mormonism was possible. In every ward I’d attended, diversity among women was met with suspicion. Labels were freely attached. Inactive. Working mother. Liberal. Single. Childless. Oddly, some of the labels that were merely descriptors carried with them negative connotations. I pictured an assembly line of smiling, puffy-haired matrons. Anyone who was different was snatched off the line and tossed aside. We all smiled our way down the assembly line. We all thought that we had to be whole wheat mothers.
Of course, struggling with assembly-line roles is not limited to Mormon culture. Women’s magazines tell us that “working mothers” and “stay-at-home mothers” have declared war on each other. At-home moms swirls angry epithets at job-laden mothers: “Why did you have children if you were going to have someone else raise them?” The wage-earning mothers pompously declare, “How can you be fulfilled when you spend your days doing laundry?” Single women join the fray by worrying about loneliness, AIDS and their biological time clocks. Their married counterparts envy the freedom and growth that single status affords.
Most Mormon women are not yet at this warring stage. Our quest for identity is too new. We’re just starting to broaden our experiences. We’re just beginning to accept the realities of the 90’s. Many mothers work outside the home. All women will not marry. All women will not be mothers. Every woman is not June Cleaver. Diversity is rearing its head, and we’re deciding if we will fight it or welcome it. Most of us our still in the negotiating stage. I hope that we don’t move on to sanctions and war. For too long, we’ve used the Ideal Mormon Woman not as a role model but as a club to beat ourselves with. Attitudes have not changed significantly since 1987 when a study of active Mormon women indicated that two-thirds felt overwhelmed and pressured to excel in many different areas.*
If we are too anxious and overwhelmed, our relationships with each other suffer. Sisterhood fizzles in such a volatile pressure-cooker. Our friendships become counterfeit. Healthy, give-and-take connections are not possible if we always wear our Sunday faces, afraid our real selves are unacceptable. Sisterhood will elude our grasp if we continue to pursue the fictitious Molly Mormon prototype. We will never be as spiritual, knowledgeable, or kind as this mythical creature—just as horses will never be unicorns. The Typical Mormon Woman, much like the unicorn, is one-dimensional. Happily, Real Mormon Women are not. We are blessed with unique gifts and strengths, as well as idiosyncrasies and weaknesses. Thank goodness! Diversity enriches and deepens our bonds. Sisterhood happens when we permit each other to be human.
So, let’s allow the Typical Mormon Woman to depart in peace. Give her a eulogy and let her go. We don’t need her any more! We have living, breathing, fallible women to take her place. We can move to a higher plateau of understanding and tear down the fences of artificiality. We won’t turn our heads from women suffering with social problems that we will now admit exist in Mormonism. We won’t raise our eyebrows when an unorthodox opinion is stated. We won’t christen each other with petty labels or expect everyone to be our clone. We’ll take a giant leap toward sincere, sweet sisterhood.
Good-bye, Typical Mormon Woman. We’re secure without you. Go rest. We all know you deserve it.
* Study done by Dan Jones and Associates among LDS women who were in Provo, Utah, between August 18-21, 1987, to attend BYU Education Week.
Requiem for a Typical Mormon Woman
Lisa Ray Turner, 1993
Rio Rancho, New Mexico
She is a Molly Mormon. Patty Perfect. The Typical Mormon Woman. Different names for the same woman. She sits quietly in sacrament meeting, dispensing Cheerios and quiet books with dignity. She teaches inspiring, non-controversial Relief Society lessons. She wears sensible shoes and bears a striking resemblance to June Cleaver. She’s always ready with whole wheat bread for the needy. She’s our role model, as quintessentially Mormon as the Golden Plates.
Does the Typical Mormon Woman sound familiar? She did to me. I felt like I was surrounded by hundreds of them every week at church. They talked with sugar-coated tongues. They listened to lessons (while smiling) and politely agreed with every word. They said things like, “Sister Smith has given such a beautiful lesson” when I, who had heard the same lesson, was thinking, “That was a trite, irritating lesson.” They spoke in the “Relief Society voice.” Breathy, soft-spoken, and gently.
These women even looked perfect. They wore handmade, feminine dresses and had fluffy hair. Their make-up was neither austere nor over-done, but—you guessed it—perfect! I was certain their homes were always immaculate. I couldn’t imagine them blasting through their living rooms in cleaning frenzies minutes before their visiting teachers arrived. I, on the other hand, panicked if anyone didn’t make an appointment a week in advance—that’s how long it took to get my house to look like their houses.
I wondered what was wrong with me. Why didn’t I get excited over the Cute Things we made in homemaking meetings? Why did many talks in church perturb me? Why did I question issues they took as gospel (pun intended)?
While trying to answer these questions, I realized I couldn’t cram myself into a mold that did not fit. I embarked on my own personal program of glasnost. I stopped trying to be a typical Mormon woman. In the process, I made some delightful discoveries. It’s okay to prefer books to embroidery patterns. It’s not a commandment to grind your own wheat. Temple recommends are given to those of us with messy houses and loud, sassy voices. I can claim, as my own, unconventional opinions. I learned—ever so gingerly—to separate the gospel from the Church.
I wondered whether other women felt like I did. I started to talk—and listen—to women in the Church. Really talk. No more, “Good morning, Sister Jones. That jello salad that you made for homemaking was sure delicious.” I wanted to know Typical Mormon Women. What were their aspirations and feelings? How did they feel about taboo subjects like polygamy? Did they yell at their kids? I decided to find out.
As I got to know the women of my ward, I heard one phrase over and over: “I’m not the typical Mormon woman, but…” Sometimes I wasn’t surprised by this admission. But frequently, I’d assumed I was talking to the gold standard of Mormon womanhood and was chocked that she considered herself atypical. If nobody would admit to being a typical Mormon woman, where was she? I thought I’d found her when I spoke with a woman who personified everything in the Relief Society manual—in fact, every manual in the Church. She was a beautiful woman who often espoused the values of staying close to the hearth and supporting priesthood-holding husbands. She had seven children and a beautiful home. She was nice—genuinely, honestly kind, not that cloying artificial niceness that gives nightmares to a diabetic. And, the final clincher, she was smart, knowledgeable about world events, and involved in the community. She was what we were all trying to be.
To my astonishment, she said, “Well, you know, I’m certainly not the typical Mormon woman, but…” My mouth dropped to my knees. If she was not a Typcial Mormon Woman, there were none. Not in Michigan, New York, California, Europe, or Asia. Even dare I say it, not in Utah! The Typical Mormon Woman was dead. I grieved her loss. I had gotten used to her. She was like a pair of tight shoes: at first they pinch and hurt, but eventually they become comfortable, even if they aren’t a perfect fit. Now to realize that she never existed in the first place…well, this revelation opened a whole new world. Could it be that Mormon women were truly diverse? I had often wondered whether diversity within Mormonism was possible. In every ward I’d attended, diversity among women was met with suspicion. Labels were freely attached. Inactive. Working mother. Liberal. Single. Childless. Oddly, some of the labels that were merely descriptors carried with them negative connotations. I pictured an assembly line of smiling, puffy-haired matrons. Anyone who was different was snatched off the line and tossed aside. We all smiled our way down the assembly line. We all thought that we had to be whole wheat mothers.
Of course, struggling with assembly-line roles is not limited to Mormon culture. Women’s magazines tell us that “working mothers” and “stay-at-home mothers” have declared war on each other. At-home moms swirls angry epithets at job-laden mothers: “Why did you have children if you were going to have someone else raise them?” The wage-earning mothers pompously declare, “How can you be fulfilled when you spend your days doing laundry?” Single women join the fray by worrying about loneliness, AIDS and their biological time clocks. Their married counterparts envy the freedom and growth that single status affords.
Most Mormon women are not yet at this warring stage. Our quest for identity is too new. We’re just starting to broaden our experiences. We’re just beginning to accept the realities of the 90’s. Many mothers work outside the home. All women will not marry. All women will not be mothers. Every woman is not June Cleaver. Diversity is rearing its head, and we’re deciding if we will fight it or welcome it. Most of us our still in the negotiating stage. I hope that we don’t move on to sanctions and war. For too long, we’ve used the Ideal Mormon Woman not as a role model but as a club to beat ourselves with. Attitudes have not changed significantly since 1987 when a study of active Mormon women indicated that two-thirds felt overwhelmed and pressured to excel in many different areas.*
If we are too anxious and overwhelmed, our relationships with each other suffer. Sisterhood fizzles in such a volatile pressure-cooker. Our friendships become counterfeit. Healthy, give-and-take connections are not possible if we always wear our Sunday faces, afraid our real selves are unacceptable. Sisterhood will elude our grasp if we continue to pursue the fictitious Molly Mormon prototype. We will never be as spiritual, knowledgeable, or kind as this mythical creature—just as horses will never be unicorns. The Typical Mormon Woman, much like the unicorn, is one-dimensional. Happily, Real Mormon Women are not. We are blessed with unique gifts and strengths, as well as idiosyncrasies and weaknesses. Thank goodness! Diversity enriches and deepens our bonds. Sisterhood happens when we permit each other to be human.
So, let’s allow the Typical Mormon Woman to depart in peace. Give her a eulogy and let her go. We don’t need her any more! We have living, breathing, fallible women to take her place. We can move to a higher plateau of understanding and tear down the fences of artificiality. We won’t turn our heads from women suffering with social problems that we will now admit exist in Mormonism. We won’t raise our eyebrows when an unorthodox opinion is stated. We won’t christen each other with petty labels or expect everyone to be our clone. We’ll take a giant leap toward sincere, sweet sisterhood.
Good-bye, Typical Mormon Woman. We’re secure without you. Go rest. We all know you deserve it.
* Study done by Dan Jones and Associates among LDS women who were in Provo, Utah, between August 18-21, 1987, to attend BYU Education Week.
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