Crimes against Domenic Johansson

I spent a large part of my day helping Peter (11) get his photography project finished for 4-H. He had to find his favorite ten pictures from the last year that he’d taken to mount on a poster board to show at the County 4-H Fair. I’m very thankful that my parents have offered to help him with some of the project throughout the past year. My dad offered to show him how to take interesting pictures so that the object was positioned right in the frame. They had taken him to a car museum not far from us that had some interesting exhibits, including some old Duesenbergs. He captured the symmetry of car parts very nicely. I don’t know what those car parts are called, but those old cars looked pretty cool on his poster.

Last night he and I drove over to the store so he could pick out the lettering for his poster. We also got some paper to mount the pictures on so that each picture was nicely framed. In between interruptions, we spent most of the day on the poster project.

There are a lot of projects and activities like that in his life. When he wanted to play football, we discussed whether he’d be allowed to play only flag football or tackle football. Unfortunately for Peter, we settled on flag football for the protection of his implanted hearing equipment. But we chose the football league. And when he wanted to play basketball we chose the league. And we found a piano teacher for him so he could learn to play. When Peter was just a toddler we made the decision for him to raise him as a hearing child in a hearing world by giving him amplification.

As his parents, we make choices for him frequently. We buy him food and a bed and clothes and toys. We take him to the doctor when he is sick. We grant or deny permission. It’s only natural, since we are, after all, his parents. We are ultimately the guardian not only of his body, but of his heart. We are accountable for his rearing. And when it comes to his education, it is up to us to decide how he will be taught. In America we enjoy the freedom of deciding what is ours to decide: what type of school and which school will he attend? It is our responsibility to educate him, and we are free to delegate that responsibility as we so choose.

If I open a retail store, I am free to hire the employees I choose. The employees do not have the option of requiring that I hire them. That’s for me to decide. In the same way, the government schools are an option. But they are the hired hand, not the employer in this illustration. If I choose to hire the government to teach my children, I am free to do that. Or I could hire a local private school to do it. Or I could do it myself.

But just as the employee cannot demand that I hire him to work in my store, so the government should not demand that I hire it to educate my son.

Yet what is happening in Sweden with this little boy Domenic Johannson is criminal. His parents exercised their legal right to home school him. It wasn’t illegal yet. That law has just passed. I am at a loss for words to emphasize how appalling and atrocious it is for a government to kidnap a child and keep him from his parents for even a few hours, let alone a few days. Yet Domenic has been forcibly estranged from his parents for almost a year. If that hasn’t scarred him then I don’t know what will.

Domenic and his father share a love for photography like Peter does. Since Big Brother abducted this little boy, Domenic and his father played with their cameras during the short, supervised family visits. But in May, Big Brother removed permission to have cameras at these supervised visits.

When people hear of this odd situation the first thing they ask is whether there could be another reason for the government’s intervention--perhaps child abuse? That’s a very reasonable question and just shows you how very hard it is to believe. Yes, this is a child abuse case, and the abuser is the government.

Imagine if you were vegan and the government decided you were a little weird for being vegan, so they took your children away on that reason alone. How offensive. How criminal. How abusive. Yet that is what the Swedish government is doing. There you have it.

Tomorrow Peter and I will finish his photography project. He and I—no government representative, because I didn't invite any—will work on wrapping it in clear plastic to protect it. Then this weekend his grandparents--not the government-- will help me out by taking him to the project judging. The 4-H club has been great. He's learned about woodworking and electricity and other fun stuff. Now I think we'll turn our focus to another club he's in. It's Generation Joshua, a civic organization for youth who want to preserve our liberties. He'll want to make sure such abuses don't happen in his backyard, and do his part to help Domenic get back to learning photography with his own mom and dad.


I used Google Translation to translate this into Swedish.

Jag tillbringade en stor del av min dag hjälper Peter (11) få hans fotografi projekt avslutats för 4-H. Han måste hitta sin favorit tio bilder från förra året att han skulle vidtas för att montera på en affisch ombord för att visa på länets 4-H Fair. Jag är mycket tacksam att mina föräldrar har erbjudit sig att hjälpa honom med en del av projektet under hela det gångna året. Min pappa erbjöd sig att visa honom hur du ska ta intressanta bilder så att föremålet var placerat mitt i ramen. De hade tagit honom till en bil museum inte långt från oss som hade några intressanta utställningar, bland annat några gamla Duesenbergs. Han fångade den symmetri av bildelar mycket bra. Jag vet inte vad dessa bildelar är kallade, men de gamla bilar såg ganska cool på sin affisch.
Igår kväll han och jag körde över till butiken så att han kunde plocka ut de bokstäver som för sin affisch. Vi fick också en del papper att montera bilder på så att varje bild fint skrevs. Däremellan avbrott, tillbringade vi större delen av dagen på affischen projektet.
Det finns många projekt och verksamheter som den i hans liv. När han ville spela fotboll, vi diskuterade om han skulle få spela endast flagg fotboll eller ta itu med fotboll. Tyvärr för Peter, fast vi på flagga fotboll för att skydda sin hörsel implantat utrustning. Men vi valde fotbollsligan. Och när han ville spela basket vi valde ligan. Och vi hittade en pianolärare för honom så att han kunde lära sig att spela. När Peter var bara en liten knatte vi tog beslutet för honom att ta upp honom som en utfrågning barn i en utfrågning i världen genom att ge förstärkning.
Som hans föräldrar gör vi val för honom ofta. Vi köper honom mat och en säng och kläder och leksaker. Vi tar honom till läkaren när han är sjuk. Vi bevilja eller neka tillstånd. Det är naturligt eftersom vi är trots allt hans föräldrar. Vi är ytterst väktare inte bara hans kropp, men hans hjärta. Vi är ansvariga för sin uppfödning. Och när det gäller hans utbildning är det upp till oss att avgöra hur han kommer att läras ut. I Amerika vi njuta av friheten bestämma vad som är vårt att avgöra vilken typ av skola och vilken skola han kommer att närvara? Det är vårt ansvar att uppfostra honom, och vi är fria att delegera denna uppgift som vi så önskar.
Om jag öppnar en butik, jag är fri att anställa den personal jag väljer. De anställda har inte möjlighet att kräva att jag hyr dem. Det är för mig att avgöra. På samma sätt har de statliga skolorna är ett alternativ. Men de är lejd och inte arbetsgivaren i denna bild. Om jag väljer att hyra regeringen att undervisa mina barn, jag är fri att göra det. Eller jag kunde hyra en lokal privat skola att göra det. Eller jag kunde göra det själv.
Men precis som arbetstagaren inte kan kräva att jag anställa honom att jobba i min butik, så regeringen bör inte kräva att jag hyra den för att utbilda min son.
Men vad som händer i Sverige med den här lilla pojken Domenic Johannson är kriminell. Hans föräldrar utövat sin lagliga rätt att hem skola honom. Det var inte olagligt än. Denna lag har just passerat. Jag är med förlust för ord för att understryka hur skrämmande och grymma det är för en regering att kidnappa ett barn och hålla honom från hans föräldrar för ännu ett par timmar, än mindre några dagar. Ändå Domenic har med tvång fjärmat sig från sina föräldrar i nästan ett år. Om detta inte är brännande honom så jag vet inte vad som kommer.
Domenic och hans far har en älskare för fotografering som Peter gör. Eftersom Big Brother bort denna lilla pojke, Domenic och hans pappa spelade med sina kameror under den korta, övervakade besök hos släktingar. Men i maj, bort Big Brother tillstånd att ha kameror på dessa övervakade besök.
När människor hör talas om denna udda situation är det första de frågar är om det kan vara en annan orsak till den statliga interventionen - kanske övergrepp mot barn? Det är en mycket förnuftig fråga och bara visar hur svårt det är att tro. Ja, detta är ett övergrepp mot barn fallet och förövare är regeringen.
Tänk om du var veganskt och regeringen beslutat att du var lite konstig för att vara vegan, så de tog dina barn iväg på detta skäl. Hur offensiv. Hur kriminell. Hur missbruk. Ändå är det den svenska regeringen gör. Där har ni det.
I morgon Peter och jag kommer att avsluta sitt fotografi projekt. Han och jag-ingen företrädare för regeringen, eftersom jag inte bjuda in-kommer att arbeta med omgärdar du den med genomskinlig plast för att skydda den. Då denna helg sina farföräldrar - inte regeringen - kommer att hjälpa mig genom att ta honom till projektet döma. Det 4-H klubb har varit stort. Han lärde sig om träbearbetning och el och annat kul. Nu tror jag vi kommer att lägga vår fokus till en annan klubb han är i. Det är Generation Joshua, en medborgerlig organisation för ungdomar som vill bevara våra friheter. Han kommer att vilja se sådant missbruk inte hända i hans bakgård och göra sin del för att hjälpa Domenic komma tillbaka till studierna fotografin med sin egen mamma och pappa.

Jag använde Google Översättning att översätta detta till svenska.

An open letter to all good people of Sweden öppet brev till alla goda människor i Sverige

This is an open letter to all good people of Sweden.

I’d like to invite you into my home for a day to take a peek into my family’s life. I’d like you to meet my seven children, ages 12 years to 5 months.

If you could sit down with them over a cup of coffee, you could ask them all sorts of questions about the curious life we lead. After all, they come from a large family. We’re Christians. We also have chickens and we eat the eggs they lay. They’re organic eggs that people pay twice the price to get. And we home school.

Maybe you’re raising your eyebrows. Perhaps you’d like to ask me during our coffee, “Aren’t you concerned about their socialization?” You might also wonder about the quality of their education. These are both concerns homeschoolers have had for many years since it began to grow in popularity here in America in the 1980s. But as homeschoolers have proven themselves time and again in their academic performance, we rarely hear questions about that anymore. Socialization is harder to measure, but the weakness of that argument against that is also becoming more obvious.

There are regularly news stories about bad things happening in the government schools, such as children having sex in the classroom, or children killing each other, or teachers sending a child’s feces home in his backpack. I’m not making this stuff up. If you want more examples, go to 101 Reasons to Homeschool. And whenever we hear about these crazy things, my husband likes to joke that, “I’d send my children to the government schools, but I’m concerned about their socialization.” But in all seriousness, we'll never have to worry about the students in our home school killing each other or even bullying each other. Our children are one another's closest friends.

We are reading many reports about a very serious and grave infringement upon the rights of Annie and Christer Johansson in Sweden to homeschool their child. They believe this was the best choice for their son. And the Swedish government has even gone so far as to kidnap the child from his parents. My friends, this is shocking beyond words! The psychological damage being done to this child is beyond my imagination. Domenic Johansson must be returned to his parents immediately. Unless he were being abused and needed protection, the best place for a child is with his own parents. This is nothing short of evil. There is nothing else to call it.

Perhaps after a cup of coffee with my family you might not decide to homeschool your own children. But I hope you would see that it can be a good thing for some people, and that we should allow families to have different philosophies in how they conduct their lives.

I have written this post simply so as to make it more accurate through Google Translation.

Detta är ett öppet brev till alla goda människor i Sverige.
Jag skulle vilja bjuda in er in i mitt hem för en dag att ta en titt i livet för min familj. Jag vill att du ska träffa mina sju barn i åldrarna 12 år till 5 månader.
Om du kunde sitta med dem över en kopp kaffe, kan du be dem alla möjliga frågor om nyfiken liv vi bly. När allt kommer de från en stor familj. Vi är kristna. Vi har också höns och vi äter ägg de lägger. De är ekologiska ägg som folk betala det dubbla priset för att få. Och vi hem skolan.
Kanske ni tar upp ögonbrynen. Kanske du vill fråga mig vid vårt kaffe, "Är du inte bryr sig om deras socialisering?" Du kan också undra om kvaliteten på sin utbildning. Dessa är båda problemen homeschoolers har haft många år sedan det började växa i popularitet här i Amerika på 1980-talet. Men som homeschoolers har visat sig gång på gång i sina studieresultat hör vi sällan frågor om det längre. Socialisering är svårare att mäta, men svagheten i detta argument mot att också blir mer uppenbar.
Det finns regelbundet nyheter om dåliga saker händer i de statliga skolorna, som barn att ha sex i klassrummet, eller barn döda varandra, eller lärare att skicka avföring från ett barn hemma i hans ryggsäck. Jag är inte inbillar detta. Om du vill ha fler exempel, gå till 101 Anledningar att Homeschool. Och när vi får höra om de galna saker, gillar min man skämtade om att "jag skulle skicka mina barn till statliga skolor, men jag är bekymrad över deras socialisering." Men på fullt allvar, kommer vi aldrig oroa sig för studenterna i vårt hem skola döda varandra eller ens mobbning varandra. Våra barn är en annan närmaste vänner.
Vi läser många rapporter om en mycket allvarlig överträdelse på de rättigheter Annie och Christer Johansson i Sverige för att homeschool sina barn. De anser att detta var det bästa valet för sin son. Och den svenska regeringen har till och med gått så långt som att kidnappa barnet från sina föräldrar. Mina vänner, detta är chockerande bortom ord! De psykiska skador som åsamkas detta barn är bortom min fantasi. Domenic Johansson skall återlämnas till sina föräldrar omedelbart. Om han höll på att missbrukas och behövde skydd, det bästa stället för ett barn är med sina egna föräldrar. Detta är inget annat än ont. Det finns inget annat att kalla det.
Kanske efter en kopp kaffe med min familj du kanske inte väljer att homeschool dina egna barn.Men jag hoppas du skulle se att det kan vara bra för vissa människor, och att vi bör tillåta familjer att ha olika filosofier i hur de bedriver sina liv. 

Google översatt text.

Rebuilt: How Becoming Part Computer Made Me More Human

Author of the book Rebuilt, Michael Chorost, is a cochlear implant recipient whose book, in his words, "[is] about much more than deafness; I was aiming to speak to anyone with an interest in how technology is changing human bodies for good and ill."

The more immediately accessible gem here is his speech to Gallaudet University (I can't find the date but it's been in the last few years) when he admonished Gallaudet to be the leader in redefining not only the deaf culture but the direction the university can go as leaders in hearing technology.


What does he mean? Well, let's assume you're a hearing person reading this blog. Let's also assume there's a construction project going on across the street from your home. If there were any way you could turn off the noise, any kind of technology that would enable you to be deaf to it, would you be interested? Hearing people are always fascinated to hear how Peter, who can't hear a chainsaw roaring next to him, is able to hear and function like his hearing peers. But they are also very interested in his ability to control his hearing. If he doesn't want to hear the vacuum cleaner, or wants everybody in the car to be quiet while he naps on a car trip, he can turn it off. All he has to do is disengage his hearing equipment.


Perhaps there's more to auditory technology in our future than giving hearing to the deaf. In an era of such rapidly progressing technology, our imagination is the limit in what we can do.


His point is that Gallaudet has good reason to stop clinging to the traditional idea of a deaf culture and begin redefining itself as a leader in auditory technology and its impact on society.

A Little Love, Please?

"Peter did you know there are people in the deaf community who think I'm abusing you by letting you get this cochlear implant?" Prepping for surgery a couple weeks ago, Peter rolled his eyes and waved his dad away. He's heard it before. "Those people are crazy. However, they're wrong."

It’s true that some hold to this view. While the blind cheer at advances in technology that enable them to see, and the Juvenile Diabetes Association presses for cures, there is in contrast, a school of thought within the deaf community that puzzles many. Some see deafness as a culture in peril, and medical technology is less a cause for hope and more of a menace. Hearing aids. Cochlear implants. Bone conduction equipment. By enabling children to someday function as hearing people, some in the deaf community fear that we threaten the very existence of a culture.

I don't pretend to completely understand their views. I think it's better for Peter to be able to order his own saturated fat at McDonalds or hear me yell, "Don't touch! That's hot!" (Or, "CAR!"; "FORE!"). And someday he may be glad to be able to hear when his children are in danger or need help.

The median reading level for the signing high school graduate is 4th grade (See Carol Bloomquist Traxler’s article, page 6). That means 50% read above 4th grade and 50% read below it. According to National Institute for Literacy, Fast Facts on Literacy 2001, More than 20 percent of adults (general population) read at or below a fifth-grade level. This brings up all sorts of questions about comparing Americans to the Chinese, phonics to whole language, and what causes that lower reading level among the signing community. But that’s for another post.

At 11 Peter isn't thinking quite that practically. He's glad to be able to be buddies with the boys at church, in 4-H, the neighbors, and classmates. In 2007 we uprooted our family and relocated in a city about two and a half hours away. It was tough on our verbal, social daughter. It was tough on our deaf but hearing, less-verbal son. What would it be like if the only people he knew who signed were family members? How much could he communicate on a basic level with his own community, let alone entertain a relationship? It wouldn’t really be his community, since he wouldn’t feel a part of it. You can see why the ASL people are concerned about the erosion of their culture. It would be incredibly lonely.

For children who grow up in a signing family, it makes a lot of sense to continue signing, but should those children be denied the opportunity to make friends with the neighbors? To be able to pursue almost any career they want?

As Peter waves his dad away, as if to wave away the idea he finds so “crazy,” I want to pull him aside for a private talk. Let's not call anybody “crazy,” I tell him; positive dialogue is never advanced by resorting to pejoratives anyway. Let's give them the latitude to decide for themselves, just like the latitude that we hope they’ll afford us. After all, I don't want their criticism either, even if I don't come to the same conclusions. Eleven-year-olds don’t always exercise the tact and gracious spirit we’d like to see. We’ll keep working on that with him. We’re going to encourage him to call a truce and promote profitable dialogue. That’s what Hands and Voices is doing. They’re supporting families without bias. As a homeschooler, I’ve always said that the best school choice for a child is the choice the parents make. And for a deaf child, the best choice is the one the parents make on his behalf. A little grace, please, from both sides of the aisle. After all, we’re all trying to do the very best for our children out of intense love and concern for their welfare.

Thankful for Priceless Burdens

Only 10 more days until Peter's surgery to replace his failed cochlear implant from 2000 with a newer model! He's so excited! And it got me thinking back to this article my husband Chris wrote for The Amplifier, Hear Indiana's publication. This picture of Peter was taken in 2004. He was a combination of Roy Rogers and his dad the football player. So intimidating!

So today I thought it would be fun to repost this article from the summer of 2004, because I was thinking what a treasure my little burdens are--those who hear, and those who need a little help to hear.

A thunderstorm has forced the Mann cubs of northwest Indianapolis to play inside on a warm summer afternoon. Mom wisely laid out the television rules long ago—a half hour for “Clifford the Big Red Dog” at 5:00 pm—and the cubs know that it is up to them to find something worthwhile and interesting to do for the next few hours.

Micah is interested in the new library books that his older siblings Peter, five, and Lydia, six, are devouring. But something on the ground—I think it is a long plastic tube attachment for our vacuum?—tempts Micah’s imagination. Micah picks up the tube and taunts Peter to join him in shouting into the tube through pursed lips.

“I am Superman,” Micah announces into the vacuum attachment with a muffled voice. But Peter, deaf since birth and the recipient of a cochlear implant at twenty-three months, miraculously understands everything Micah is giggling.

“No, I am Batman, and you’re dead!” Peter retorts at the other end of the tube. He then sticks the tube down the side of his shorts, unsheathes his newly re-imagined gun, and taunts his younger brother. Gun sound effects, furrowed eyebrows, pursed lips, lots of collateral air-borne saliva.



Gretchen, age two, has awakened from her nap and proudly dons her mother’s red heels and clomp-clomp-clomps down the hallway to our living room-turned-saloon.

“Gretchen is siwwy,” Peter laughs and all chime in for a group giggle.

We didn’t know it could be this fun. It certainly didn’t feel fun when my wife Ruth and I stood in church some four years ago and choked back tears on the Sunday morning we realized that Peter wasn’t just a “B personality” compared to his effervescent older sister, Lydia.

But, five years later, it is indeed this fun, thanks to our understanding of the blessing in our burden.

Ruth and I had the good fortune of receiving some great premarital advice that soberly reminded us of the biblical imperative to “bear each other’s burdens.” This implies, to a significant extent, that we soberly view each other as a burden.

Is this any way to run a marriage? The dictionary defines burden as “something difficult to bear” and any marriage veteran knows that marriage is simply tough work peppered with deepening rewards over time. Two people commit to shedding childish self-absorption in a life-long journey of realizing true happiness.

And like adults, children are both burdens and blessings. Burdens are actually blessings-in-the-making because these burdens are not just static things with no purpose or plan. They are dynamic elements to our lives and we see a larger plan working through them.

Of course, this is not to minimize the pain and tragedy of a disability; we would not wish deafness nor any kind of disability upon anybody for any blessing, perceived or real. But it now seems evident to us that God, in his mysterious providence, sees fit to visit the Mann family with this curious economy of burden and blessings. The paraplegic, the retarded, the amputee, the blind, the deaf, the overweight, the hyper-talkative…all share in common with me the fact that we’re all burdens to each other. We burden in different ways, but we all take up space, breathe air, eat, drink and burden somebody.

The Superman/Batman bravado-fest is, predictably, now out of hand and somebody’s feelings are hurt. Crying, mayhem, etc. Gretchen, clueless about either the cacophony or our grocery budget, wants more duce (orange juice, which evidently isn’t just for breakfast, lunch, and dinner anymore). Mom settles the mayhem and then reaches for the vacuum to pick up where she left off, for the umpteenth time this morning. But where is that tube attachment? It will have to wait: Peter’s cochlear implant processor is beeping incessantly because the battery is low. Low? It’s only a few hours old…it must be on its last legs. Ouch, time to buy expensive replacements.

Like every Mann family member with a quirk (and there are a few), or a disability (we’ve got a few of those too, and deafness is only one of the many shapes and sizes), Peter’s disability has certainly burdened the family. But having a hearing impaired child has taught us the wisdom of a larger economy: Increased OJ budget--$20. Batteries for a cochlear implant--$320. Discovering anew that we all present burdens that need bearing and are profoundly blessed for it—priceless.

Cooking with Kids: White Pizza!

This is one of our family's "to-die-for" recipes. White Pizza!

2 pizza crusts

4 c chopped cooked chicken breast meat (put on crusts)

4 T butter melted
2 T olive oil
6 T minced garlic
4 T sun-dried tomato pesto
2 t dried basil
2 t oregano
2 T Parmesan cheese
2 c Alfredo

(Mix together and pour over chicken.)

2 tomatoes sliced
8 oz feta

(Top over Alfredo mix.)

375 degrees for 10-15 minutes

And Lydia (12) is learning to make this recipe. She will make it once a month for six months. Hopefully by the end of the six months she'll be able to do it all by herself without me overseeing it. Every Monday she's making one of four recipes she'll make every month for six months. Each child has his own day in the kitchen, and Peter (11) is learning four recipes as well. Micah (9) is only learning one recipe, and that is to pour a bottle of barbecue sauce over some chicken breasts and bake them. Part of the reason I assign a different child to each day is that they all like to cook and they all want to help. This way I don't have five children reaching around me and smothering me while I try to work in the kitchen. The other reason is it gives me time to work one-on-one with each child and I like that!

My little speech therapists

Welcome little John-Michael! This is one of my favorite pictures. When I first realized I was pregnant my first thought was, "this is a buddy for Jonas just like Micah is for Peter, and he's going to be able to hear." Micah has unwittingly played a role in providing speech therapy for Peter over the years. Of course all the kids have--they say the best gift for a hearing impaired child is to have an older sister, and God provided Peter with a chatty big sister. But Micah and Peter have a unique relationship that I foresee Jonas and John-Michael enjoying. I'm so thankful the future doesn't hold the time and financial investment in John-Michael's hearing. But I'm also thankful for his unwitting role in helping Jonas too.

Where's St. George?

If you haven't heard, my belly is growing bigger these days, and folding myself in half to pick up stuff off the floor isn't so easy now. As daily tasks take increasingly more effort, I'm measuring my success and failure in teaching my boys to think about others. Should I, pregnant, hold the baby and pull the stroller out of the car by myself?

I'm a yankee. I was raised in the North. I don't know a lot of Southern manners. Most of my friends are like me. We try, but the culture doesn't reinforce it, I forget to follow through in teaching, and I don't even know or think about some of it. But the whole matter begs the question: why? Why chivalry?

It's not a white-washed form of flirtation (or, at least, it's not supposed to be), and it's not a measure of a woman's ability or competence. But it is about Christ-likeness. Men and women alike are under the obligation to die to ourselves for the benefit of others. Rather than a survival of the fittest, the most fit stoop to bless the weakest. After all, that's what the most Fit did, dying for each of us who are most fragile and weak, whether or not we care to admit it.

I want my boys to open doors for ladies, carry heavy boxes, give up their seats, and all the other traditional gentlemanly gestures. But I really want more. I want them to think without realizing it, to always be on the lookout for how they can protect and serve others. I don't want them only doing it for pretty girls. I want them to do it for their big pregnant mama, an ugly old lady, the person with obvious brain damage, or anybody, really--weak or not. It's a mindset that is so ingrained that they'll automatically step forward to help or give up their comfort for others.

That's chivalry. Tomorrow, they get to practice it when they rebuild their little sisters' bunk beds. That would be, the bunk beds they would like to have in their room. I'll just watch from the side. A little to the left, boys.

Future Dog Trainer

Dear Mrs. Kern,
I am giving you; DOG INSGRUKSHUNS.
HECTOR
it begens, Today. So, step 1. When you come in the door from sumwhar, and He starts barcing, say, "Hollo" and egnor him. don't say, "good boy good boy!" utherwise, he will thingk munooering is a good thing. and it's not. (it's gros)
MOLLY
When I come to your house, I will show you this. Ok? Good.
Love,
Gretchen
(p.s. When my mom herd this she was in laphe world! ha ha ha) :)

Ancient & Modern Egypt at the Children's Museum

On Friday I hauled the kids down to Indianapolis because King Tut has come to the Children's Museum! It just so happens we've been studying Ancient Egypt as we work our way chronologically through history, and King Tut will only be there until late October.

What the Exhibit was Like
There were lots of amazing statues of pharoahs and viziers, treasures from their tombs, a gold mask of somebody, and plenty of text to read. I skimmed the text as quickly as I could so I could attend to my younger ones, who were more interested in wrapping up the visit asap. As we wove our way through the display, I kept thinking we'd see King Tut's sarcophagus just around the corner. Or, knowing how creative the Children's Museum is, maybe they'd even have a make-believe display of his tomb you could walk through. But no King Tut! No sarcophagus anywhere! Not sure why they marketed it as a King Tut exhibit.

In fact, it wasn't really a typical display for this museum. In other words, it wasn't a children's exhibit. It was for adults. And in fact, it was mostly adults surrounding me. It was dark and quiet and we felt we should whisper. I felt bad for another mom whose two-year-old was begging to be put down for a nap. I offered her snacks and admitted that all those security guards everywhere would probably kick me out! But no, he needed sleep, not food. And he certainly didn't appreciate the age of the artwork in front of him.



The Modern Egypt exhibit, in contrast, was quite impressive. Housed where you've seen the World Cultures exhibit, the entire area was dedicated to the culture of modern day Egypt. Here you see Jonas riding a croc on the Nile. I didn't take enough pictures. After "boarding" a plane to the country and learning some intro Egyptian, we visited a restaurant, a home, a store where you can buy head coverings, and much more to educate us on life in Egypt.

On Head Coverings
The toys marketed to kids there, interestingly, had girls all wearing head coverings. It prompted a good discussion on the ride home between my girls and me about the subject. In Egypt, head coverings are not required. It's up to the discretion of the individual or the family. As a Christian, I asked my girls, what would you do? Some Christians choose to wear head coverings, but they are quite different from the Muslim coverings. You could go along with it. Or you could wear a covering but more in the Mennonite style. How do we exhibit a testimony for Christ in a culture that has higher standards of modesty? This is a great question for my friend Alicia whose family is serving in Morocco.