It Was Only A Matter Of Time

Bacon is in the first grade. She attends a charter school that we chose for its academics, its uniforms, its proximity to our home, and the fact that last year, when she started kindergarten, it had no restrictive food policies or silly health lessons about exercise.

I knew that raising a kid with HAES, to be an intuitive eater, to love her body would be difficult. I knew I'd come up against some pretty determined people who would think they'd have her best interests in mind when they suggested other methods, when they pooh-poohed Family Feeding Dynamics and were aghast that, yes, I have fed my kid McDonald's and agreed that it tasted good, and was a treat.

I knew it would happen. I thought I had at least a little more time before her school started crusading against all things "unhealthy".

She received this assignment on Friday:

This year we are challenging our school community to establish healthy habits at home. Starting Friday, September 24, 2010, students will have weekly homework for physical education class. Students will be required to fill out activity logs for the time they are active when they are not in school. We are encouraging families to work together and find ways to be active and start establishing those healthy life habits. Every two weeks students will receive a blank activity log. It is their responsibility to find ways to be active so that at the end of each week they have accumulated at least 150 minutes. At the end of the two weeks they will return their completed activity log to their homeroom turn in bin and receive a blank one. The activity logs will be part of the student's physical education grade and follow the school homework policy. Students may count any physical activity done outside of the school hours (before and after school activities/sports count). Biking, swimming, playing at the park, skating, sports, &walking, are all examples of ways to be active. T.V and video/computer games do not count as activity time. Please help your students to find fun ways to be active and start living a healthy lifestyle together! Get up and play 60 a day! If you have further questions please contact [the gym teacher].



You'll notice it assumes, three times, that we and our students don't already have any healthy habits. Considering this went out to all nine grades of the school - K-8 - I find that astonishing. Not one family in that school is athletic? None of these kids play sports? Oh, but wait, they do - since sports count toward your obsessive total - so ...? I also like that she makes a point to tell us that watching television is not physical activity. All these years, I've been sitting on my ass, needlepointing or reading or scrapbooking while in front of the tube, and NOW I learn that didn't count as exercise?! WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME!


Of course Bacon will not be participating. I'm sending an email, bright and early Monday morning, telling them that she won't be participating and why: it's antithetical to our values as a family. I refuse to teach my six-year-old that exercise only counts if you write it down, and that the only way to be healthy is to monitor yourself. I'm pretty sure she'll manage to absorb that message someday - she is, after all, a girl in America.


They've placed restrictions on snacks, too. Did you know that plain honey-graham snacks are cookies? Cookies. Like Oreos or Chips Ahoy!. We're allowed to send fruit, veggies, cheese, unflavored crackers, and water.


Unflavored crackers and water. My, that sounds like a nutritious snack, doesn't it? You'd be so depressed eating it, you wouldn't be able to absorb a damn bit of good from it. Also, I'm not sure what constitutes "unflavored". Silly me thought plain bunny grahams were unflavored, but then, I also thought they weren't cookies. I mean, I'm fat: shouldn't I be able to tell a cookie from a non-cookie? 


I have a sneaking suspicion that this is probably all part of federal funding and Michelle Obama's fatwa against fatties, which just compounds my anger. Bad enough that the school is meddling in my family's health practices, but that they're probably doing so under the aegis of the fucking feds? 


There's no way to look at this in a good light. There's no way to not rock the boat. I've been a pretty passive activist, mostly due to my personality, my anxieties; there's no way for me to subvert this without standing up and screaming about it. 


Let's hope I've got the lungs for it. 

I Didn't Read Anything Tasty Last Week

Sorry.

So, I had a bad day yesterday. I started the school-year schedule, which includes waking up before God, and it just went downhill from there.

I started submitting query letters to literary agents, and I was all panicky and anxious, and somehow, all these fears of failure coalesced into hating my body all day long. I didn't want to get dressed, I didn't want to eat, I didn't even want my husband to hug me when he came home. I felt like a giant ugly blob of grossness, and all the relentless, negative tape-loops I thought I'd cleaned out of my brain were working overtime. Not only was I going to fail at getting an agent because my novel sucked and the market's full of vampires - no, obviously I was going to fail because I am a big, fat, toothy, ugly loser.

I'm not writing to get pity (though I'll shamelessly take compliments anyway.). I'm writing this down because it illustrates just how intertwined our bodies are with our everyday lives, with our emotions; and how body acceptance is a process that doesn't end. Fifteen years after I chucked dieting the first time, and I still have all that crap I grew up listening to in my head, waiting in the back of my brain until something else has me jittery and inattentive, and then it sneaks up and makes me feel like shit.

And I hate that my anxiety is so closely linked to my appearance, but that's how I was taught; that's how my mother wired me, right from the start. I was not a child who could leave the house in a tutu and rain boots: that would have reflected badly on my mother. In fact, the only thing that reflected well on her, as far as I was told, was looking perfect - perfectly matched, perfectly styled, perfectly brushed and curled and accessorized. Too bad I was so fat, or I really could have done her proud.

I understand her wanting me to start off on the best foot, to make the best first impression I could. But since I could never actually look good - just good for a fatty - the whole concept of first impressions, of appearances, just makes me stupid with anxiety. Even when the people I'm "meeting" can't see me, and have no way of knowing how big I am.

My writing should be able to stand on its own (and I think it does, or I wouldn't be trying for an agent at all), but the toxic tapes in my head told me that I'm fat, and therefore worthless, and therefore a failure before I even get out of the gate.

I've dealt with this most of my life by failing on purpose. If it's my choice to fail - by not trying, by dropping out - then it's not a judgment on me. It's not because my body is unacceptable - because I am unacceptable. It's because I didn't want to.

Fuck that. I've missed out on a lot of life because "I didn't want to". No more. Even if I fail, so what? I tried, right? I pursued a difficult and insanely competitive profession because I wanted to! I wanted to put myself out there, to do the only thing I've wanted to do since I was 10 years old. If my timing of the market isn't right, if my writing is truly awful, well, I'll figure that out.

I will have wanted to, and from where I'm sitting? That makes me a success, right out of the gate.