the tindog coffeehouse

Continuing with this week’s theme of teaching atheism to kids, how ’bout some new tunes from They Might Be Giants?  The ’80s-era nerd band has released a new CD and DVD aimed at children called Here Comes Science, which includes a song called “Science Is Real” that equates angels with unicorns (video on the CD’s Amazon page here):

I like those stories
About angels, unicorns, and elves
Now, I like those stories
As much as anybody else
But when I’m seeking knowledge
Either simple or abstract
The facts are with science
Science is real

And to think I wasted my youth on songs like “Itsy-Bitsy Spider” and “Jesus Loves the Little Children”.  Instead, I could’ve been learning about simple and abstract knowledge through the power of scientific fact!

From Wired:

“Although it wasn’t designed to create controversy, it’s still a big relief to me that the opening track, ‘Science Is Real,’ didn’t raise any red flags with the label,” the 49-year-old Flansburgh told Wired.com in an e-mail interview. “The song freely acknowledges the Big Bang and evolution, and casually conflates angels with unicorns and elves, which might bug some anti-science, pro-angel folk.”

I guess I fall into the category of “pro-angel folk” although I’m certainly not anti-science.  But yes, I would say the song bugs me.  I’m all for science, don’t get me wrong.  I’m all for teaching kids about the elements, solar system, and other topics covered on the CD.  But as a Christian, I don’t agree with parents teaching kids that angels (and by extension, God) don’t exist or that humans evolved from apes.

Besides, isn’t that what the public schools are for?

Previously:
Kids camp for atheists
Should evolution be debated in public schools?
Bill would protect the grades of students who disagree with evolution

I’m not sure quite what to make of this story in the Dallas Morning News about a Collin County camp for children of atheists, agnostics, and “free thinkers”:

In many ways, the one-day event looked more like science camp than a gathering of children who had grown up without a god.

The campers, ages 5 to 15, played with llamas and kangaroos, examined fossils and staged their own UFO sightings.

Their counselors refrained from bringing up religion directly, though they encouraged the kids to embrace scientific skepticism.

Many of the parents had more modest goals, hoping their children would have some fun – and maybe make a few friends from among North Texas’ small but growing community of nonbelievers.

I don’t know what’s more tragic, that a camp like this exists or the part about the “growing community of nonbelievers”.

It’s one thing, I guess, when an adult says they’re an atheist.  But seeing them pass down their rejection of God to their children is especially heartbreaking.  Then again, I suppose they would say the same about me and how I raise my kids.  The consequences, though, are much different in their case.

(And yes, if you’re keeping score at home, this makes two consecutive atheism-related posts. Who knows, maybe I’ll try for the hat-trick tomorrow.)

My kids love games.  One of their favorites is something they simply refer to as the “circle game.”

The circle game is a large, round tin box filled with marbles, chess and checkers pieces, pick-up sticks, dice, and Parcheesi pieces, with boards for each game printed on the inside and outside of the box.  I know the girls got it as a gift at some point, but for the life of me, I can’t remember from whom.

Whenever we sit down to play, I usually suggest Chinese checkers, or if it’s just the two of us, regular checkers.  But almost always, the “game” ends up being some convoluted make-it-up-as-they-go-along product of the girls’ imaginations.  Roll a die and pick up that number of marbles.  Once you have so many marbles, you get a green pick-up stick.  If you get a yellow pick-up stick, you have to put it back and get a red checker instead.  Put all the marbles in one pile and all the checkers in another pile, then dump everything back in the can and stir it up with your stick.  (OK, so now we’re making soup?)

I used to groan at the random nonsense of it all, but then I realized that I wasn’t teaching them as much as they were teaching me.

When I look at this box of game pieces, I see Chinese checkers, chess, Parcheesi — specific games with set rules and guidelines.  When they look at it, they see a collection of raw ingredients that can be used in an infinite number of ways.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve slowly lost the ability to imagine, to see the various possibilities.  I’ve been conditioned to go to work, do my job, pay the bills, check off the to-do list, and never, ever deviate.

Not them.  At least not yet.

To Megan, a scrap piece of paper is a canvas on which to create her latest masterpiece.  To Erin, a plastic harmonica case is the perfect container for her partially sucked-on peppermint stick.  Megan happily sleeps with her baby blanket, even though she outgrew it years ago.  And Erin pours out compassion on her dollar-store teddy bear who is abnormally flat.

They each walk to the beat of their own drummer, and in each in their own way.  And I hope that never changes.

I guess I need to learn how to stop taking life so seriously, to let go of the things I don’t have any control over and appreciate the things I have.  The job, the bills, all the responsibilities that go along with being an adult, those things are still important.  But that doesn’t mean I have to stress out over everything either.  After all, it’s just a game, right?

According to Maria Sophia Aguirre, an economics professor at Washington DC’s Catholic University of America, families with married parents are not only more beneficial to the overall health and development of the children, they are necessary for good economic development.

Aguirre noted, “the breakdown of the family is a symptom of a sick and weak society.”

Problems of all sorts increase in irregular families: Women are more likely to be abused, kids are more likely to use drugs, and women and children of broken families have a higher probability of living in poverty. …

Giving a review of nations ranging from Canada to Chile, the economist concluded that families are simply better for the economy.

“The breakdown of the family damages the economy and society since human, moral and social capital is reduced and social costs increase,” she explained.

Divorce is unfortunately a painful reality, and in many cases it can’t be avoided.  But at the same time, we’re living in a culture that places less and less value on marriage.

• The divorce rate in the United States is somewhere between 40 and 50%, one of the highest percentages in the world.
• The U.S. has the highest percentage of single-parent families among all developed nations (34% as of 1998).
• 41% of unmarried partner households in the U.S. have children under 18 living in them, and 33% of all births are to unmarried women.

But as Aguirre points out, simply having dinner together as a family has significant benefits, even for single-parent households:

Academic performance went up 38%. Kids were 142% less likely to smoke, 93% less likely to drink, 191% less likely to use marijuana and 169% less likely to have more than half of their friends be drug users.

I can personally attest to this.  Like many kids, I grew up in a single-parent household and spent a lot of my childhood alone.  While I never smoked or used drugs, I can say for sure that I struggled academically and socially a lot more than I would’ve with both parents around.

The bottom line should be pretty clear: A nation has its best chance for survival and prosperity when its children grow up to be responsible and capable adults, and children have their best chance at becoming responsible and capable adults when they grow up with loving parents who invest their time in them.

Previously:
Single parents cost taxpayers $112 billion

We were watching TV the other night, and a Barack Obama commercial came on.  Then out of the blue, I hear a small, angelic voice announce, “That’s who I voted for!”

Huh?

Turns out the girls’ elementary school held a mock election, and Megan and Erin both voted for Obama over McCain.

Interesting.

I asked them why they voted for Obama.  Megan didn’t know.  Erin (the angelic one who made the announcement) said it was because she liked him.  I guess that’s about the most political analysis you’re going to get out of a five-year-old.

The school hasn’t announced the winner of the mock election yet, but Obama did win Nickelodeon’s online Kids Pick the President poll (51% to 49%).  (The poll has been run every election year since 1988 and has correctly predicted the winner in 4 out of 5 races.)

Erin’s proclamation reminded me of when I was in first grade way back during the 1980 election.  I don’t remember voting, but I do remember hearing an announcement over the intercom that Ronald Reagan had won.  I was so happy, but I honestly don’t know why.  Maybe it was something I had picked up from my parents or TV.  Maybe I just knew how great a president he would be.

Since we certainly haven’t endorsed Obama, I don’t think the girls would’ve picked him because of us.  My guess is, it has more to do with aesthetics.  Obama is a tall, slender 47-year-old while McCain, at 72, is battle-scarred and about 7 or 8 inches shorter than his opponent.  And since 1900, the taller candidate has won two-thirds of the time.

So the good news is, the girls’ votes don’t necessarily indicate a life-long affinity for Democrats.  But the bad news is, they probably correctly picked the winner of the real election.

Exactly what are they teaching in school these days?

Megan brought home her 2nd-grade spelling homework last night, and one of the words was “mace”.  She had to practice writing it and then write a sentence that included the word.

Me: “Does that say ‘mace?’”
Her: “Yeah.”
Me: “Are you sure?”
Her: “Yeah.”
Me: “Did your teacher tell you what it meant?”
Her: “No.  What does it mean?”
Me: “Uh, well… It’s a weapon, like a club.  You hit people with it.”
Her: Confused look.

The sentence she came up with?  “I got hit by a mace.”

And they say video games are violent!

(And yes, we did verify with her teacher that it was not a typo.  And no, the teacher didn’t pick the word.)

Economics, at its heart, is the study of how people make choices when dealing with scarce resources, and no where is that more evident than at Chuck E. Cheese’s.

We promised Megan that we would take her to the pizza playground when she learned to ride her bike.  She picked it up quickly on Monday night, so last night we held up our end of the deal.

We divided the tokens equally between her and Erin and let them pick which games they wanted to play.  But we tried to explain that if you play the games which pay out in tickets, you’ll be able to be able to buy stuff at the counter later.  They eventually came around and they ended up with a total of about 100 tickets.

With each girl having 50 tickets to spend, the choices of course were very limited.  Megan chose a rubber snake (20 tickets), a plastic frog (10 tickets), and a flower-shaped yo-yo (20 tickets).  Erin chose a pack of candy (40 tickets) and a barrette (10 tickets).

At the end, even though each girl was able to choose their own prizes, neither was completely happy.  Erin was mad because Megan got three things and she only got two, and Megan was unhappy that Erin got candy and she didn’t.

And those, my friends, are what we call opportunity costs.

There was a lengthy debate a few days ago on USA Today’s PopCandy blog about the all-time worst sitcoms. Most of the shows mentioned (Mr. Belvedere, Small Wonder, My Two Dads, etc.) were shows from the ’80s and early ’90s. Very few readers mentioned shows from the ’60s or ’70s, likely because those were before their time.

As a child of the ’80s, I grew up on shows like Happy Days, Scooby-Doo, The Dukes of Hazzard, and WKRP in Cincinnati, as well as classics such as The Brady Bunch, Gilligan’s Island, and The Munsters. (Yes, I watched entirely too much TV growing up.) I played with GI Joe and Star Wars toys but never made it very far in Pac-Man or Donkey Kong. I rode my Big Wheel up and down the block without adult supervision and caught horny toads in the vacant lot next door.

Now that I’m a father, I’ve come to the realization that my daughters won’t share many of these same memories. They have no idea who the Fonz is or what New Coke tastes like. They’ve never ridden in the wayback of a station wagon, recorded anything to a cassette tape, or changed channels with a pair of pliers because the knob broke off, and they don’t care.

So what things will they be nostalgic for when they’re parents? Hanna Montana? High School Musical? Shrek? Will they talk about the first time they broke 200 on Wii Bowling or laugh about how slow the Internet was? Will they tell their kids about growing up when people still used gas in their cars and it was only $4 a gallon?

And I wonder: Did my dad ever feel this way because I don’t know the words to the Davy Crockett theme, can’t recite any of the Smothers Brothers routines, and don’t have any interest in baseball trading cards?

The Texas attorney general’s office has created a parenting curriculum for high school students which will become mandatory throughout the state beginning in the fall.

State officials say the goal is twofold: They want to teach teenage parents their legal rights and they want to show other students the difficulties of being a parent in hopes that they’ll wait to have children.

I’m not sure how I feel about this. In one sense, I guess it’s good if the goal is to discourage teens from getting pregnant or to provide resources to teens who already have kids so they can be better parents. On the other hand, is this really the responsibility of the schools?

Should public schools be responsible for teaching parenting courses or sex education or “life-skill” courses such as money management? Ideally, that sort of stuff should be taught at home, right? Isn’t that still the job of a parent? Of course, that’s the problem: the parents aren’t teaching these things to their children; they expect the schools to do it for them.

And this is what we get as a result. For better or worse.

A new study indicates that divorced and single parents are costing U.S. taxpayers about $112 billion a year.

Scafidi’s calculations were based on the assumption that households headed by a single female have relatively high poverty rates, leading to higher spending on welfare, health care, criminal justice and education for those raised in the disadvantaged homes. The $112 billion estimate includes the cost of federal, state and local government programs, and lost tax revenue at all levels of government.

So it really does take a village to raise a child! (Or at least the village’s taxes.)

– “Mommy, can I please ride the subway all by myself?”
– “Sure, my little explorer, anything you want.”

Anyway, for weeks my boy had been begging for me to please leave him somewhere, anywhere, and let him try to figure out how to get home on his own. So on that sunny Sunday I gave him a subway map, a MetroCard, a $20 bill, and several quarters, just in case he had to make a call.

No, I did not give him a cell phone. Didn’t want to lose it. And no, I didn’t trail him, like a mommy private eye. I trusted him to figure out that he should take the Lexington Avenue subway down, and the 34th Street crosstown bus home. If he couldn’t do that, I trusted him to ask a stranger. And then I even trusted that stranger not to think, “Gee, I was about to catch my train home, but now I think I’ll abduct this adorable child instead.”

Long story short: My son got home, ecstatic with independence.

OK, it’s one thing to want to teach your kid to be independent, but it’s quite another to drop him off in the middle of friggin’ New York City with 20 bucks and a map. (Notice how the mom seemed more worried about losing her phone than losing her child.)

Megan is about to turn 7, and she’s been begging for a real cell phone for at least a year. And our answer? “No!” Why is that so hard for parents to say? Are we stunting her personal growth by setting reasonable age-appropriate limits? I guess in this lady’s opinion we are.