Feminist Fare Friday: The Christmas Gift Guide Edition
Everyone's got one.
A Christmas Gift Guide that is.
I've got a few ideas that I hope you'll like, and that may make that someone special on your list very, very happy this coming Christmas morning.
So, without further ado, I am going to don my helper shopping elf hat, put on my sparkly shoes and get to it!
(Disclaimer: I have not received compensation for any of these recommendations, they are simply products/people/companies that I think are awesome.)
1. CanvasPop
CanvasPop is a Canadian company that will take any digital file (Instagram, Facebook photos, or from your camera/computer file) and make it into a brilliant piece of artwork for your walls. Get those great shots off your camera and Instagram feeds and display them on your walls. You can make a collage, do a tryptich of canvases, or think big and do a whole gallery wall or series of canvases. They even include the hanging hardware and those little bumper thingies with all of their canvases (it's the little things that make me such a fan). I have one huge wall in our Natural Urban Home that will soon be covered with 6 new canvases and I can't wait to see how it is going to look when they are all hung! And did I mention that their customer service is beyond exceptional? I had already received 3 of the canvases and while the quality of the printing and craftsmanship was excellent, I wasn't 100% satisfied with the size that I had ordered. I called them to see what could be done and within minutes, I had new proofs to approve, a small charge to my Paypal account and new canvases being reprinted for me, exactly as I want them!
If you use this link to order from CanvasPop you'll get a sweet little discount too!
2. Lostmy.Name
For the past few weeks I have been seeing the Facebook ads for this company popping up all over my timeline. I eventually clicked on it one day and it took me to the website where I discovered these super sweet personalized story books.
I love that this is a company of dads (and an uncle), that they started this as a DIY project, and that they are making magic and memories for kids all over the world. I have ordered one for my daughter and one for my nephew and can't wait to see the look on their faces when they realize that the books are about them! And bonus feature for bilingual kids, you can also order the books in French, Spanish and Dutch. You've still got a few days to get your order in for Christmas as the cut-off date is December 9th.
I have been a fan of this local #YEG company for years. They are one of the main reasons I visit our downtown Farmer's Market so often in the summer and because of those visits, The Consort and I have a nice little collection of their wearable art in our wardrobes. The two talented women behind Salgado Fenwick make t-shirts, sweatshirts, leggings and pillows featuring their original hand-drawn artwork. Everything is silkscreened in small batches right here in Edmonton, Alberta and sold online, at craft fairs, and at their newly opened brick and mortar store as well. I love that each season they create a new and limited edition collection and I know that I'll continue to add to ours as the years go by! Local, wearable, art - the trifecta of reasons to shop with them!
I call her Zena, eagle warrior.
Last weekend I attended the Royal Bison Art & Craft Fair and stumbled upon these soaps. The Consort is a notoriously hard man to buy for, as he is always saying things like, "I don't need anything" and "Don't worry about me"... Why doesn't he understand that I LIKE TO GIVE GIFTS! Anywho.... the one thing he does like is soap, nice smelling, manly soap. And you can't get any more manly then these BROBRICKS. With names like Cedar & Beer, Barber Shop, and Leather Scrub and a tag line that says "Smack the Filth Off!", you really can't go wrong putting a few of these in your man-dude's stocking this year!
BroBrick Soaps
5. One Red Bead
My friend Mandy is an inspiration to me and many others as well. She is also one of the driving forces behind the India Nepal Yoga Project, a grassroots organization that is working to heal the wounds of trafficked girls and women in that part of the world. One of the missions of the INYP is to assist in the creation of sustainable means for the financial future of those effected by trafficking and HIV/AIDS. On her most recent trip in Nepal, Mandy had a dream one night about one red balloon. The next day, after some brainstorming with the INYP group and the residents of an HIV/Aids hospice, they came up with the idea that blossomed into ONE RED BEAD.
One Red Bead
The red tibetan healing bead is crafted from yak bone and is representative of the precious girl, affected by the devastation that is human trafficking and HIV/AIDS. Not only do the women feel a sense of pride and purpose in hand-crafting these wonderful bracelets, but the bracelet itself offers awareness, hope and support. 100% of the profit from the sale of these bracelets goes directly to help those living with HIV/AIDS and girls rescued from trafficking. This is the kind of giving that truly makes Christmas wonderful. Give a beautiful gift to someone you love and give the gift of hope to a girl or woman a world away. Order HERE.
There you have it folks.
The 2014 Stay at Home Feminist Christmas Gift Guide!
Now, go get that shopping done so that everything arrives in time.
Merry, Happy!
Natasha*
guest post: her story matters
The Stay at Home Feminist is a safe place for all. And as such, from time to time, I provide this space to fellow writers who need to share pieces that, for various reasons, they can not share elsewhere. I ask you to welcome them here and be gentle, their stories are personal, they matter and I promise you, there is a real person behind these words.
The following post comes with a Trigger Warning and deals with abusive, stalking and terrorizing behaviour.
~~~~~
We met through a friend. I had just moved across the country to a strange city in a new province. I had left everything I knew behind me in the hopes of starting fresh and I had to prove to myself that I could go it alone and be completely independent. All I owned was my car and whatever I could stuff in it.
The first time I met him, my new friend and I ran into him on the street. She introduced us and we all briefly chatted before going our own way. He didn’t really strike me one way or another, but I was happy to be meeting new people. Over the ensuing weeks, I saw him on occasion at my friend’s house or out at a bar. Eventually, he and I started dating. I’m not even sure “dating” is the right word - we mostly hung out and went out to clubs. It was never an exclusive arrangement and there were no romantic dinner dates, but it was nice to experience my new city through him.
It lasted only a few weeks. I ended it when I realized he just wasn’t for me.
After I broke it off, he called me often – at least daily, but sometimes more. One night, he called to tell me he got a new roommate: a woman. I didn’t care. He’d go into too much detail about their near-sexual encounters before I’d say, “That’s nice.” and hang up the phone. I didn’t care. I never really had.
One night, he called me and said “I saw you with another guy. Are you dating him?” I told him I was and that he needed to stop calling me. I wasn’t interested in him; it was over. It had, in fact, never really begun.
That night, I woke up to a rock breaking my bedroom window. I knew he’d done it.
I called the police because my landlord needed a report for insurance. The officers came, and after inspecting the window, they asked me if I knew who had done it. I gave them his name. They stopped writing and looked up at me. “This guy is known to us for weapons and uttering death threats. If we bring him in for this, he’ll come after you because we can’t hold him.” Then I watched them leave as I gripped my incident report in my hands. My Super told the landlord that some partiers had done it, and it was fixed the next day.
That night he called. “I see they fixed your window. That was fast.” I hung up.
That’s when I became aware that he was stalking me. He didn’t really try to hide it; I think he enjoyed knowing that I knew. He seemed to enjoy knowing that he literally lived on the periphery of my life, affecting my choices and influencing my movements. He knew I saw him standing across the street staring up at my window. Once, he even sat outside my apartment door for three hours when I was inside – every once in awhile saying something to let me know he was still there.
When I was at a club, he’d stand on the edge of the dance floor and smirk when I noticed him. On one occasion, he followed me into the women’s washroom, grasping my arm as I tried to pull away. The women inside scattered, but security rushed in and took him away.
This happened 10 years ago. I was in my 20s, fiercely independent, and maybe a little bit naïve. When he wasn’t physically barring me inside my apartment, I carried on with my life. I walked alone in my neighbourhood, assuming he was there. I went to movies and clubs by myself. I walked to work, or quickly ran to the coffee shop across the street after dark. Some might say my actions were stupid or reckless. In hindsight, they probably were. At the time, though, I refused to let him win. I refused to live in fear. I refused to let him control me. I was always aware, though, and everything I did was calculated. The times I was most afraid was when I was alone in a subway station – I always stood against the wall, far away from the tracks. I was fairly certain that he wouldn’t do anything to me in front of witnesses, but being alone in a public place was scary, especially a place with high-speed trains and open tracks.
I don’t remember telling anyone he was stalking me. I didn’t want anyone to tell me it was my fault. I didn’t want anyone to deter me from living my life. I didn’t want anyone to encourage me to involve the police again. I had figured out a rhythm to my life, which unfortunately, included him.
After close to two years of living my silent hell, I had to tell someone. For my own safety, I told my apartment building Super. We weren’t friends and I didn’t particularly like her, but she needed to know. I needed her to know the day I looked out my window and saw her having a friendly conversation with him. When she came inside, I ran downstairs and asked her what he wanted. She said, “Do you know him? He just applied to live in the apartment next to you.” I felt like I was going to throw up. I reminded her about the rock thrown through my window and said “That was him. He’s been following me ever since.” A quick glance at his rental application revealed that he had used an alias. Her response was swift. She picked up the phone and called the police, telling them everything she knew. They asked to speak to me and I gave them a brief history of his behaviour. They told me they couldn’t do anything unless he was still on the property, but gave me some possible options to help me feel safer. I informed them that I was moving back home – across the country – in a month. They said “Good. Leave in the middle of the night.” And that is exactly what I did.
A few years later, after my son was born, he tried to comment on my blog, saying, “The world is lucky you had a boy. It doesn’t need any more women like you in it.” We traced his IP address across the Atlantic, where I hope he’s stayed. I now also have a daughter.
Rarely, does he enter my mind these days. My days are no longer governed by conscious, calculated decisions to keep myself safe from him. I am, however, often reminded of how he continues to affect me – he’s the reason I don’t publicly share my kids’ names or faces online. He’s the reason Facebook continues to ask me where I live, and I refuse to fill it in. He’s the reason my location on Twitter is vague and encompasses a large geographic area. All these years later, I must protect my kids from his prying eyes. I need to be careful because I know he reads my blog and, probably, all my public social media.
Some may wonder why I am sharing this now, or at all. Why, 10 years later, have I decided to write this all down and share it with the world? My private hell. My past. My present. My on-going need to protect those I love from one single man who isn’t even known to them. My answer is this: I am not the only one. There are scores of women who live in constant fear, tormented at this very moment. Women who must protect themselves the best they can because no one else is. Women who are living their own private versions of hell.
I want you to know we are here. I want you to know that the silent ones have stories that deserve to be told, even when we think no one could possibly care. To my fellow quiet women: your stories matter even if no one hears them, even if you think that no one is listening. They are valid. You are valid. You may not know me, but I care. I care about what is happening to you, what has happened to you, and what continues to affect you.
I’ll admit that part of me doesn’t want to share this – to give him, or any man like him, the satisfaction of knowing that his actions had long-term effects. I don’t want him knowing that I think about him, ever. I don’t want him knowing that he factors into any of my decision-making. It offends me on a deep, visceral level that I need to give power to my experiences – to what he put me through. All told, I came out of this relatively unscathed. I actually feel like I’m a lucky one - so many other women have worse stories than this one. Hell, this isn’t even my worst story, but in some ways, I feel like it’s the most important one – the one I share with so many others. This is the story that so many other women could have written, but they suffer in silence… like I did for so long.
~~~~~
The author of this piece chose to remain anonymous to protect her family. She is unwilling to expose her children to the fire that might reignite in her stalker if she publicly declares that this happened. This fear of repercussions is why stories remain untold, go unreported, and personal, private hells are silently endured every day.
Photo Credit: _namtaf_ on Flickr
Midway
At the beginning of the month, I had this strong urge to do all the daily things. Writing, picture taking, meditation, yoga-ing.
I signed up for my first official #NaBloPoMo, found a lovely little daily photo challenge on Instagram called #thedailybon and made a promise to myself to get at least one 15-20 minute session of meditation in each day.
So, how's it going you ask? Because I know you're all just sitting around waiting for me to hit publish every day, right. RIGHT??!
Well, it's day 15 of #NaBloPoMo and I missed days 9, 10 and 11. I have to chalk that up to the disappointing cancelled mountain getaway weekend and then frantically trying to make up for it by doing ALL THE THINGS with my family over three days. Movies, dinners out, a trip to Toys R Us.... Oh, yes, the guilt was strong in those few days. I swear I have a couple of heavier pieces in the works and a guest post coming up this week.
I am really enjoying #thedailybon photo challenge over on Instagram. I am pushing myself artistically with my iPhoneography and trying to remember all the things that I learned from @motherbumper at Blissdom Canada this year. I case you are wondering, I take most of my shots with Camera+ and then edit with Snapseed.
Here are my faves so far:
Follow me on Instagram at @StayAtHomeFeminist.
Daily blogging is tough, some days you just really don't want to, others you literally have nothing to write, and sometimes, yes, you get posts that don't have much substance to them. This thing is about more than just churning out words on the screen just because, it's about sifting through the words in our heads and turning them into something with meaning. It's about practice. For me it's about making a conscious effort to carve out my "writing time", and really explore different ideas about writing and actually getting good at this thing.
Thank you for tagging along with me this month.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I haven't meditated yet today.
Namaste,
natasha~
Feminist Fare Friday: The Day 7 of NaBloPoMo Edition.
It is Friday, I have read some really, really good shit on the web this week.
And you know how I like to share...
~~~~~
In response to the now viral Hollaback catcalling video, Elon James White, the CEO of This Week in Blackness responded in the best way... By creating the #DudesGreetingDudes Twitter hashtag. And even with some of the absolute hilarity of some of the tweets, there was a strong point to be made about the very nature of catcalling and street harassment...
~~~~~
And speaking of that catcalling video... The eye gymnastics that Amanda Seales had to perform in her CNN interview with her fellow "mansplaining" guest was seriously Olympic status worthy! She recalls that particularly trying routine for us at XOJane this week...
~~~~~
Also this week, excerpts from Lena Dunham's new memoir have thrown everyone for another really, REALLY, uncomfortable loop. I have an upcoming post that will address some of the issues arising from this in more depth, but for now, I want you all to read what Elan Morgan had to say about it. Because it is powerful and made me really take a step back and think. AS WE ALL SHOULD in these situations.
~~~~~
There is a conversation that needs to be happening more in the parenting world and it is one that goes far beyond normalizing breastfeeding and breastfeeding in public. It is one about mothering and race. Because as this past week has shown, a white woman breastfeeding in her cap and gown is "adorable", while a few months ago, a black women breastfeeding in her cap and gown is "ratchett and ghetto". Yup, we really are such an enlightened bunch. LE GRAND SIGH... come on people, we can do so much better than this!
~~~~~
And finally, this video.
Because, OH MY GO....
[youtube]http://youtu.be/hR3ctoLrOHk[/youtube]
Happy Friday Everyone!
n~
~~~~~~~~~~
I believe you... But it is still not enough.
A few months ago I was at the Mom 2.0 Summit in Atlanta, Georgia. It was wonderful and I am going back again next year, because... MY TRIBE is there! On the first day of the conference, one of the speakers at the Keynote Expert Sessions was a man called Josh Levs. I'd never heard of him (Canadian blogger-fish out of water and all that), but Josh is kind of a big deal CNN reporter, a father of three and had just filed a complaint against his employer, Time Warner, for denying him 10 weeks of paid parental leave (what new mothers and adopted parents get from Time Warner, but not dads.) Josh was an engaging and passionate speaker and I appreciated that he was addressing the issue of shared parental responsibilities, but what I didn't understand was why this man was getting so much air time (literally) about an issue that women have been talking about and fighting for for years, not to mention one that places the US at the very bottom of the charts in terms of paid parental leave in the developed world.
It felt like, once again, an issue that affects primarily women is not really that big of a deal until it becomes detrimental to a man or a man starts talking about it.
This has been the case time and time again and it is something that I am so very, very tired of.
Case in point. Carla Ciccone wrote a post over a year ago about her VERY BAD DATE with a Canadian radio show host, which, I think we can all admit at this point, was with Jian Ghomeshi. The vitriol and internet hate-storm that was heaped on her after she wrote that post was appalling and I don't even want to revisit any of it (the comments on her post have picked up again given recent developments and are just as awful this time around). And now, after months of investigating and interviewing, Kevin Donovan and Jesse Brown - yes, two men - broke the story via the Toronto Star about Ghomeshi's disturbing and abusive behaviour and more than 10 people have now come forward with similar allegations of violence and abuse at the hands of Jian Ghomeshi. And NOW, it's a problem. Now that it's not just one woman who had at least that little bit of courage to write about her VERY BAD DATE, even though, if you cared to ask around, EVERYBODY KNEW ABOUT HIM! Now it's a big deal and must be dealt with.
Or, look at the new United Nations #HEforSHE campaign. God love her, Emma Watson is a shining beacon for young women everywhere, and I applaud her for stepping up to the plate and literally donning her baby feminist White Coat, but the whole premise of the campaign is that women's voices are simply not enough. That we need the HEs to speak up for the SHEs. That it is not enough for women to be seen and heard and treated as human beings in and of themselves. That we are only valued and validated in this world by virtue of our relationships to and with men as their mothers, daughters, sisters, and wives. Now, don't get me wrong, I too want men to speak up for feminism and for gender equality in our world, but not because they have a mom or a sister or a daughter, and not because they feel the need to be a hero and save the world's collective damsels in distress. I want them to do it because we are all in this place together, because one person's life is not more or less valuable than any other simple because we are not the same gender or colour or sexual orientation. I want them to do it because it is the right thing to do.
The internet is full of meme's and videos of men speaking for women. We've got Feminist Ryan Gosling Hey Girl-ing all over the place, we've got speech after speech from Joss Whedon about why he writes strong female characters and then one where he thinks we should get rid of the word Feminism. Harry Styles tweets a picture of himself supporting #heforshe and it gets retweeted over 282,000 times. Aziz Ansari sits across from David Letterman and tells us he is a feminist and we share that shit all over the place and praise all our wonderful male allies for saying all the exact same things women have been saying for eons!
On the other hand. A woman speaks up and makes a video about her experience with catcalling and street harassment and you know what happens? Sure the thing goes viral and has some serious issues that have been dissected elsewhere, but she also gets death and rape threats. Or how about this one. A woman is not the perfect girlfriend and what does her pissed off ex-boyfriend do when things end badly? He writes a 5000 word manifesto outlining why she is a terrible person, tries to ruin her publicly and professionally and rallies the collective troops of #nogirlsallowed land into a thing called Gamergate. If the situation was reversed, she would just be the crazy, vindictive, bitch of an ex-girlfriend who was out for revenge for being jilted and no one would have taken her the teensiest bit seriously. But we have this WHOLE THING now, because one dude got his heart and ego crushed BY A GIRL. Really. Boil it all down and that is what it is.
I've read multiple essays and posts this past week about why women don't speak up more, why they don't report the violence and abuse and assaults that have happened to them. Denise Balkissoon wrote just today in the Globe and Mail that no, we have not reached some kind of "watershed" moment in the face of violence against women. She goes on to say,
I’m not swayed by the newly enlightened, standing with outstretched, protective arms, advising victims of violence that there’s no longer a need to be ashamed or afraid of coming forward. Let me tell you what too many have heard, and will continue to hear, perhaps forever.
I don’t believe you.
I don’t believe you.
I don’t believe you.
And I don't disagree with her at all. I would also add that not only are women overwhelmingly hearing "I don't believe you." over and over again, even in cases with ridiculous amounts of evidence (see: death of raped and bullied Canadian girl who can not be named because of court mandated publication ban), in this world we live in, it's also a case of ....
We don't really care, because YOU DON'T REALLY MATTER. Your voice is not the one we listen to.
You are not a famous media/radio celebrity and will not have your 20+ year career ripped out from under you.
You are not an elite athlete who brings in millions to sports club owners and helps win championships.
You are not a Hollywood Icon whose brilliance can not be tarnished in our minds, because... BRILLIANT!
You are not a beloved TV character we all grew up with and thought of as our collective DAD.
You are not one of BillBoards most successful R&B/Hip Hop artists of the past 25 years.
You are not some promising young man whose life will now be ruined because you got drunk, he raped you, you reported him and now he has to go to jail.
And this is what kills me every time something like this happens. The voices of the women affected are not heard or are silenced. It's as if women's voices are some kind of background noise that people just want to turn down until a man in a nice suit tells you what to think or who to believe.
Until such a time exists when a woman can say, this is what happened to me and the automatic response from the general public isn't, "well, you should have known better" or "what do you have to gain from this?", we aren't making any progress in the plight of violence against and oppression of women. Until we can take a woman's word for it - whatever IT may be, and not have to wait for that word to be validated by a man, we are never going to get any further ahead in making this world a level playing field for all who live on it.
I gotta tell you...
I dream of that time. Every single day and every damn night.
And I have to believe it will come.
I have to.
n~
~~~~~
This is Day 5 of #nablopomo. I am writing a blog post a day for the month of November. So are a lot of other people. You can find them here.
An 11th hour List. #nablopomo Day 4.
Nothing like leaving it to the literal 11th hour to get a post written for the day! I has such high hopes for the post I wanted to write today, but it will just have to be tomorrow's. It's a good one, I promise.
Tonight, you get a list.
A list of the things that I did this past week that made my heart smile:
1. I like to shop alone. I am not one for the big girls shopping trip to the mall, to try on all the clothes and such. If you want me to come and be your personal stylist, sure, I'll do that, but if I am shopping for me, I prefer to be a one-woman wolf pack for that. However... the problem with solo shopping is getting a second opinion that is not from a commissioned or quota driven salesperson. So, I like to be that for other solo shoppers like myself. The lady at J. Crew this week was very appreciative of my feedback and I left with my new jeans and a feeling that I helped a fellow lone wolf who rocked that purple t-shirt way better than I ever could!
2. My nephew is two and a half years old and we spent our first one on one day together last week. Being the youngest of all the little cousins, it's not very often that we are not together with the rest of the family, so this was a treat for both of us. We took Willow to the dog park and he was all, "Come on Willow, let's g0" the whole time, even when she was trying to lick his face and/or knock him over with her enthusiastic tail wagging. We then headed out to the play cafe and I saw a whole new side of the kid come alive. I think this had to do again with him being on his own with me, and not in the shadow of his big sister or big cousins. He was free to do what he wanted, explore the place on his terms and be all kinds of busy and happy and silly and also, one of the older toddlers there that morning. We had fun. He was a tuckered out little boy and I was a tuckered out auntie by the time my sister picked him up that afternoon.
3. I attend a weekly yoga class at my friend's neighbourhood studio. We are a small group of women, most of whom know each other or run in similar circles of friends. Last week only three of us were in class and while I won't share any details of what transpired or what was said in that room (it's a safe/sacred place for quite a few of us), the mutual sharing and connection that happened that day was extremely good for my soul. I am grateful for each and every one of these beautiful, vulnerable, perfectly imperfect women, and our weekly sharing of energy and light with each other.
4. I cleared out the storage room. This may not sound like much, but after a while all the "things" that just keep getting piled in there to be dealt with "later" become too much. Seeing it all makes me feel like my own insides are cluttered up with STUFF and I just need to be brutal about going through all of it and either chuck it out, or give it away. Which is what I did for three hours on Saturday and then a trip to Goodwill on Sunday. It felt good to do this. Like REAL good.
5. I bought a new pillow. It makes me super duper happy!
~~~~~
What did you do this week that made your heart smile?
n~
A tooth, a lot of mom guilt and a bit of magic.
Crap! It happened already and it is technically only his 2nd lost tooth.
Last night, my son diligently put his baby tooth, the one he pulled out all by himself, "It was easy peasy Mom!", under his pillow. And this morning he walked into our room, completely deflated, holding the little bag with the tooth still in it. The most disappointed I have ever seen him.
"How come the tooth fairy didn't come?"
The Consort was quick on his feet and managed to give the kid a plausible answer (something about Halloween and Jawbreaker candies), while I tried to duck around the corner and figuratively kick myself with the full force of my Mommy Guilt.
The "Tooth Fairy" had a busy day. There was the family dinner and the late bedtime and then she had just watched that very disturbing episode of Walking Dead and was folding ALL THE LAUNDRY and.. and... and....
She forgot.
~~~~~
Childhood is supposed to be a magical time. A time when we believe in fairies and Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and all that jazz. And while I do, to a certain degree, still believe in the magic of the world around us, lately I am having a hard time reconciling the fact that, about certain things, I am lying to my kids. And in our house, one of our top family rules is, No Lying.
I worry that when my kids finally do figure out the whole Santa or Tooth Fairy thing, they are going to walk into my room, look at me, shake their heads, let out a big giant sigh, and give me that look of terrible disappointment. You know, the one that says "How could you do this to me all these years?" look.
Or maybe (hopefully) they will be a bit older, and will realize what we were doing. That we were (are) keeping the magic alive, making memories that we will all cherish forever, seeing enchantment in the mundane and walking amongst the twinkly lights and fairy dust that helps us through this sometimes dark-ish journey of life.
~~~~~
We are a rather secular family. My kids have been to church, or as they like to call it, Jesus' House, with my parents, but a regular religious practice is not part of our lives. Faith on the other hand is. Faith in some form of a higher power, faith in each other, faith that everything happens for a reason and faith in our love for our world and our desire to make it a better one.
I think this whole believing in magic and Santa and the Tooth Fairy and yes, even that pesky Elf on a Shelf is part of that kind of faith. And in my view, all of these magical traditions are linked to celebrations of life and love. Of giving and receiving and the changing of seasons and the milestones of our lives. They provide us with stop points in our journeys together. Pins on our giant map of life that connect us to each other, to where we have been and to where we are going next.
Photo Credit: Cali4beach on Flickr
~~~~~
Ok, so maybe I went a bit deep in regards to this whole Tooth Fairy fail and forgetting to put $2 under my kid's pillow for his little tooth. This is what happens when you let all that mom guilt take hold of you. You delve into the tunnels of trying to be a mindful parent and come up with a long romanticized rationale for lying to your kids.
Because...
MAGIC!
Damn it.
There WILL be magic in their childhoods.
N~
~~~~~
It's November.
So...
NO, I am not doing some kind of crazy Dinosaur thing (although my kids would LOVE that!).
And NO, there is no one growing a moustache around here (although I appreciate the efforts of all those who don the creepy '70s adult film star look).
November around here means WRITING.
As in #NaBloPoMo.
I signed up "officially" with Blogher this year, along with over 1200 others.
As the wonderful Alexandra Rosas from Good Day, Regular People wrote...
"There are stories waiting to finally breath..."
#ethicsshmethics
"Ethics is knowing the difference between what you have a right to do and what is right to do."
~ Potter Stewart
A few weeks ago, I was on stage with three wonderful women in front of a full conference room at the annual Blissdom Canada blogging conference. We were speaking on a much ignored, yet incredibly important topic in the blogging world.
Ethics.
It's a heavy topic to be sure, but it is time for it to take centre stage and be openly spoken about at conferences and amongst ourselves. Together with my fellow panel members, Elan Morgan, Shannon McKarney and Karen Green, we touched on the surface of this iceberg of a topic. In hindsight, what I think we all realize now, is that a one hour "Ethics in Blogging" panel was just not enough time and we could have easily made this into a 2-3 hour workshop. That being said, I wanted to follow up with some key points from our discussion that day and some of the points that we didn't have time to delve in to.
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1. Have your own Code of Ethics.
This doesn't have to be a pages long manifesto or a list of black and white rules that you must follow at all times, but it is a good idea to have something written down. It also doesn't have to be something that is published on your blog, although you can totally do that if you want. Think of it more as something for you. As your moral blogging compass to keep you on the track that you have set out for yourself in this online, over-sharing, publishing, and marketing world. It can be a list of companies that you will (or more importantly, ones that you will NOT work with), how/if/when you use and share pictures of your kids, yourself, or your spouse/partner online. The kinds of stories and topics that are taboo for you. For example, I personally tend to stay away from writing about vaccines and circumcision-need I say more?. This code is often made up of all the thoughts that we always have at the back of our minds, but writing them down and having them tucked away in a drawer in your desk or on your office bulletin board, or as an easily accessible file, can help keep you on track.
2. Get yourself a third party "Gut-checker".
Think of this person or group of people as your real life spell checker, not just for grammar, but for your content and any potential consequences it may have as well. We all have a tendency to get caught up in our own worlds (and words) and sometimes, can't see the forest for the trees. As writers, getting our words and feelings out on the page or screen is very often how we deal with situations in our lives. BUT, before hitting that publish button in a fit of frustration or ranty rantingness (totally a word BTW), have someone you trust, who knows you and the world that you live in, both online and off, give you that third party perspective. This can go a long way towards saving you from embarrassment, haters, hurt feelings and burnt bridges. Karen made reference to the "feel the fear and do it anyways" philosophy of life, but sometimes, feeling the fear, listening to that little nagging voice in your head and getting a second opinion might actually be your best course of action.
3. Talk to your kids about what you do.
Tell them that you are a story writer. That you write stories about them, about your life and if it is the case, about the products and services that you use. Tell them why people want to read your stories and why it is important for you to write them. Many of us are leaving a legacy behind for our children via our blogs and online writing. Make sure it is a good one. Be respectful of the little people in your life and their rights. When my son had recovered from his sudden and critical illness this past summer and I was finally able to write about it, I sat him down and talked to him. I asked him if it was okay that I wanted to write about what happened to him and to all of us. I showed him the pictures that I wanted to use in the post and he had final approval for the ones in it. I explained how so many people, from so many places had been praying and sending us love and get well messages while he was in the hospital and that this was a way for me to say thank you and to let them all know that he was getting better every day. It has opened a whole new door of communication between my children and I, and as they get older and become more aware of their own online presences, these conversations will be vital to our relationships and to my writing as well.
4. Do disclosure right.
**Full disclosure: I don't really do a whole lot of sponsored posts or product review posts.**
What I do though, is read a lot of blog posts from a lot of different kinds of bloggers. I am a consumer. A consumer of the content that is written and often times a consumer of the products being written about. And as such, I can tell you this, consumers do not like to be duped. Do not write a sentimental post about the fabulous vacation you've just had with your beautiful family, complete with all the pictures, the travel tips, the great amenities and then at the very bottom of the post let me know that the whole trip was sponsored and part of a marketing initiative. Do not write a heart wrenching post about a charity or socially conscious issue you are extremely passionate about, only to say in the last paragraph that it is part of a bigger campaign and then ask for support for said campaign. This kind of "disclosure" is akin to reading one of those great viral stories that get sent around via email or on Facebook and then at the end, implore or shame you into "sharing" it with 10 of your closest friends or else a pox will fall on your household. It is simply bad form. Out of respect for your readers, the ones who are part of the reason you are getting paid to do this work, please put all disclosure statements at the very top of your posts. In the end, you'll get more respect (and loyalty) from said readers. For a couple of examples of what I mean, check out what Jessica at Momma's Gone City did here or what Heather did with this post at Dooce. I read and loved both of those posts, because I love both of these ladies and the writing that they do, but I knew going in that there was a product being talked about. Let your readers make the decision to continue reading after your sponsorship or product review disclosure, don't fool them into it.
5. DO NOT STEAL! EVER!
It sucks that this even has to be said, but it really does. No, you can not Google a picture of an elephant and then just take the one that looks best from the images that you find in your search. No, you can not copy a complete blog post and repost it to a different site, even if you give credit to the author. No, you can not download photos from Facebook that are not yours and use them in your posts without permission. Copyright exists on a kind of spectrum and it is a good idea to read up and get a good handle on Fair Use and Copyright basics, so that you don't run into any trouble. And understand that the laws are somewhat different in Canada and the US. To be safe, take your own photos for your posts, or buy them from a stock photo site, or check the Creative Commons photos on flickr, which you can use, but require credit to the creator. And above all else, do not steal someone's words or ideas. As writers, these words are who we are, they are the product that we create, the stories that we tell and they are ours.
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I have way more to say about this year's expereince at Blissdom Canada, but I'll save that for another day. And there is so much more to say on the topic of blogging and ethics that this post could go on and on and on. What I am very happy about it that this conversation is happening and as the internet evolves, so must we in the way we behave online, how we share our content and the responsibility we have to both ourselves and our readers.
What more would you add to the conversation about ethics in blogging?
Natasha~
Photo Credit: Anna Epp Photography