O, buzzy rankings!
Nineteen one day, two the next...
I am your yo-yo.

Here's a blog post I wrote about Barack Obama's speech about race the other day that I was proud of and thought I would share at the buzz:

"You must have an overdeveloped sense of guilt," I remember a guy telling me over coffee in college. "I can see why you'd be a feminist and everything, but I don't understand why you care so much about racism. It doesn't affect you."

But it did, I insisted. Even if I couldn't explain exactly why, I believed in bumper sticker slogans like "no one is free when others are oppressed," and the simple message of the poetic parable, "First they came..." Moreover, I passionately loved every possibility that the broad strokes of the Constitution painted, a document that made me cry when I read it aloud (I preferred this to, say, auto bingo on road trips). My work-study job was as a student coordinator for a campus organization that saw issues of race, gender, class and sexuality as inextricably linked.

In my personal undergraduate studies of American history and literature, I saw those issues as inextricably linked as well. And after learning as much of the history of non-European races in the U.S. as I could absorb over my first three years of college, I spent my last year considering my own ethnicity in an undergraduate thesis about white identity in America.

I came to believe that one of the roots of racism was the very fact that the dominant, white, Protestant culture didn't see itself as "ethnic," despite the fact that, barring Native Americans, most of us came from someplace else. Or lots of places. If you don't comprehend, let alone appreciate, the diversity within your own bloodline, it's that much easier to write off the characteristics of the people you perceive as different from you.

You need only read the history of how our railways were built to see, in a less black and white way, how effectively our differences have been exploited for generations, just as you need only listen to American music to see how those differences have enriched us. I came to think of identity as a wheel inside of me - sometimes my female-ness informed my responses and actions in the world, sometimes my white Ohioan-ness, my age, my Golden Rule-obsessed upbringing, or my confusing socio-economic class. But they were all spokes connected to the same center.

So obviously, I read Barack Obama's speech yesterday, and cried. I am glad he is willing to appeal to our better nature, trust in our intelligence and speak to us frankly in his own words. His interpretation of the Constitution and his vision for America are inspiring. I'm thrilled that he's promoting unity by embracing the complexity of our population's make-up instead of trying to melting pot us into soylent green. And I'm glad he smote some of his supporters by reminding them not to distort the readily distortable, because honestly, too many of his supporters have acted intensely overbearing, smug and sexist in his name.

For all that people criticize Hillary for her past and the people around her, they don't give her due respect for the major thing she has to offer - an epic passion for policy. She and her husband have held idea retreats for wonks for years and years, and no matter how cautious or caustic her campaign might be, that wonkiness ought to have brought her more respect. Truthfully, I have not found her campaign that offensive after seeing past tactics like swiftboating and push polling. (And boy I am glad that the video of Obama's minister is up for discussion now and not rolling 24 hours a day for the first time in late October.)

But in the wake of this, the broadcast news coverage has been terrible, as it has been of this whole Democratic Primary. What do they do with a stark, candid speech that should serve to elevate the level of discussion about race in America? The same thing they've been doing throughout this process - talking about odds and image instead of anything of substance. Even 60 Minutes let me down. I say elect Obama president and let Hillary's wonks wrestle the airwaves away from the moronic armchair quarterbacks on television (unless they're working in his administration) so that we can start using our great tools of communication more effectively for once. We'd all be better off.

I'm starting a campaign to find the identities of these people.

See my blog for details:
http://tzt.blogspot.com/2007/12/who-on-earth-are-these-people.html

Writing a blog is a funny exercise.

When I write for publication, media kits and writer's guidelines give me some sense of who the audience is, or, more precisely, who the publisher would like it to be.

But when I write here, there is no Power Point-wielding man in a suit trying to tell me that my core audience is 30-something Volkswagen drivers who go out to dinner twice a week and own at least one iPod. No one is trying to push me to write in a way that they think will attract more 23-year-olds because the ad team wants to sell more space to movie theaters and stores that sell sports equipment.

Ultimately, this space is here for me to write things that I will want to re-read ten years from now, not things designed to make more steak house patrons bookmark me. But because I have chosen not to shield myself with anonymity, it's also tricky, and a bit scarier to dig into the real nitty gritty of motherhood. Overthinking this has has given me a little writer's block this week that I hope to subvert by delving into NaBloPoMo next week.

Until recently, I hadn't engaged much with the larger world of blogging. I'd done some of the standard mom blog reading, like dooce, Suburban Turmoil and Breed 'em and Weep. But I'd missed blogs like Twas Brillig, Attack of the Redneck Mommy, Running in Wellies and Not that I don't love my kids.... Then, a couple of weeks back, I joined Cre8buzz.com, a social network which seems to have drawn an unusually high number of woman/mom bloggers by wisely promoting the fact that unlike MySpace or Facebook, the owners would not deem pictures of women breastfeeding obscene and delete them.

While the aforementioned blogs are among its top stars, there are hundreds more in its ranks, accompanied by a frenzy of women trying to get to know each other, make connections, get their blogs noticed, find respite from domestic isolation, or impart the secrets that make their homes happy. It becomes addictive very quickly - cruising through pages and pages of household scenes, images and mini-essays laced with powerful thoughts about personal identity, marriage, body image, child-rearing, sisterhood, bathroom habits, illness, death, meal planning and accidental comedy. This stuff is authentically funnier and more moving than anything Lifetime could come up with, produced by people with imperfect bodies and faces.

But beyond being a diversion, I realized that the reading I've been doing recently has reaffirmed the way I want to look at the world. As a writer, I've felt strongly for a long time that everyone has a story worth telling, and those of non-famous people are usually far more interesting than the ones behind the overexposed faces on newscasts and newsstands. The happiest work I have done has generally involved giving rock star attention to un-famous individuals.

For the last week, I've noticed faces in the grocery stores that I might have glanced past before and wondered more actively about what kind of extraordinary experiences they might be willing to share, what secrets they possess and if they might be one of the remarkable women I may one day happen upon on the Internet.

To see a version of this with links, visit my blog, Tiny Mantras:
http://www.tinymantras.com

The surface paint used on Thomas' caboose, children's jewelry or Baby Einstein color blocks for infants, has righteously given all mass-produced toys manufactured in China the stink eye lately. That's because lead paint is dangerous stuff, especially to children under six.

It's a substance that has the ability to kill when ingested in a high dose, but most often, it just does slow, sure, serious damage. For one thing, even low levels of lead impersonate iron in a child's system, stubbornly blocking the nutrient, which is so necessary to their physical and mental development, from being absorbed. It can lower IQ, cause ADD or behavioral problems, stunt growth, cause hearing impairment, and more.

The fact is, we are all exposed to it constantly, in many places that aren't as obvious or automatically alarming as Elmo's friendly countenance. A pollutant that's heavy, but able to reduce to very fine dust, it's extremely difficult to get rid of. And it was extensively used to build and manufacture all kinds of things in America before (many would also say well after) its risks were understood. It's embedded in soil close to major roadways where millions of cars and trucks cruised through, fueled by leaded gasoline, for decades. And if you live in a house built before 1978 (especially if it was built before 1960), there's a good possibility it's in your home, water or soil. If you've had your children tested for lead, you likely know that most of us have some amount of it in our blood because it's everywhere in varying degrees. The danger lies in how much of it you are in contact with.

Since we faced a brief (and thankfully now past) situation with this, I've walked through the lovely older homes of many of my fellow parents and realized just how common this toxin is. It's important to know what to look for. Risky houses exist in upscale suburbs of a town like mine as well as the inner city.

If you live in an old and charming place, as I do, and have a young child (or even one who visits you regularly), consider having a risk assessment or inspection done. Know that older doors and windows are a common source for lead chips or dust, because they can release it into he atmosphere every time they are opened and closed. Only wet dusting and/or using a vacuum with a HEPA filter can effectively bring up the dust.

Other things I suggest for prevention at your home, or whenever visiting an older home, based on experience:

• Make handwashing a regular routine for yourself, and your children, from the moment that they begin scooting around on the floor.


• There's a good reason that pediatricians want you to give your baby those awful-tasting vitamin drops for the first two years. It's important that that infants, toddlers and kids have the right amount iron and calcium in their diet. A full store of iron in the body can help prevent the lead from being absorbed long-term.


• Wash toys regularly, particularly during the early developmental phases when babies and toddlers constantly put things in their mouths.


• If you can't afford to replace windows and doors that may have coats of lead-based paint, they need to be repainted every couple of years. (Note: you risk poisoning yourself and everyone in your house if you try to scrape the paint yourself.)


• Make lead safety a consideration in any home improvement project you do.


• If you suspect old pipes in your wall, use filtered drinking water if you can, and let the tap run for 30 seconds before using water for cooking.


• Don't buy cheap ceramic and painted plastic items from discount and dollar stores (Walmart and Target included). Products marketed to adults seem to go through even less rigorous screening than those for children, even though many are going to homes with children in them.


• I love antiques, but be careful with those that are painted/distressed. Consider having them tested.

There are many more suggestions here:
http://www.leadsafehomes.info/national/mainpage.jsp?SITEACTION=CTREE&SUBACTION=HEALTHLEAD@PREVENTINGEXPOSURETOLEAD