8-Year-Old Fights to Get WWII Vet Recognition He Deserves
Every time 87-year-old Charles Mowbray visits for a living history lesson, 8-year-old Leanna Morris hangs on every word and keys on every picture. But it’s what he doesn’t bring that has really affected her. (via cbsnews.com)
First-Graders’ Acts of Kindness Catch On
A Terre Haute, Ind., group called SPPRAK launched an idea to jot down acts of kindness on a piece of paper, and soon all the local schools were participating, with hundreds of multi-colored thank you notes decorating the walls. (via nbcnews.com)
Bus Driver of the Year Tries to Make Difference on the Way to School
Francine Jackson has been known to go the extra mile for the students on her school bus. She searches the stores and websites for costumes to wear on holidays, and makes gift bags for her “graduating” students, all while maintaining the appropriate levels of law and order on Bus 6. (via thestate.com)
Kids Write Books; Heroes Reply
For their most recent project, the students at Chief Brodie Elementary did research on people who’ve made a difference in the local and global community. Using the information they found, they created fictional tales of adventure featuring them and their “difference maker.” (via guampdn.com)
![How to Raise a Green Kid Today, I have a measured sense of how much trouble our environment is in. We have many challenges ahead of us, I realize. I also know that the wildlife in my backyard is not likely to drop dead today or even tomorrow.
I have arrived at this balanced view over time. But even today I can’t help thinking much as I did when I was young: each time I see an animal in the wild, I immediately wonder how sick it is, how many toxins it’s carrying, and even if it may be the last one of its kind I’ll ever see. I can correct that thought. But it’s still there.
by Highlights Science Editor, Andy Boyles
[[MORE]]Kind of a downer? You bet. For many years, I was not only skeptical but downright cynical about environmental efforts. They all seemed frail next to the threats to the environment.
Only after I learned of some success stories did I begin to question my view. The turkey, the American alligator, and the bald eagle are all signs of hope. I began to wonder if the environmental education I had received had helped me very much.
I attended elementary school and middle school (we called it “junior high”) during the late 1960s and early 1970s—the years after Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring had spread awareness about environmental dangers and before the Endangered Species Act was passed. Between those two landmarks, as a biologist told me recently, the outlook for the environment was bleak to say the least.
Environmental education, as I recall it, was also bleak. I had a science teacher whom I would place far from the Bill Nye end of the spectrum. In fact, I’d sit him at the opposite end, next to Ben Stein’s character in the television show “The Wonder Years.” This character was known for showing his class case after case of beautiful wilderness areas transformed into toxic wastelands in the time it takes to advance a slide projector.
His approach triggered a substantial dose of guilt, but not much hope.
And every now and then a letter from a Highlights reader reminds me of both Ben Stein and my own teacher. This question from a nine year old stays with me: “When will we die from global warming?”
The letter I wrote to answer that question did not come easily. Generally, I work to answer our readers’ questions about the environment truthfully while also offering a reason for hope. The approach I take is to inform the reader about the issue, and that information includes some people who are working to improve the situation.
And I wish for today’s kids the experience I would have chosen for myself: less gloom and doom and more time outdoors with an adult who also enjoyed nature.
Has the world ever seen a committed, effective conservationist or environmentalist whose main childhood memories of nature did not come from direct and meaningful exposure to nature? Has one ever stepped forward who was not guided by an adult who also loved nature? Theodore Roosevelt, John Muir, Rachel Carson, Roger Tory Peterson, and many others—each fell in love with nature before answering the call to champion it.
If our goal is to rear future generations that make thoughtful, deliberate decisions about tough environmental issues, we need to give kids more than the facts. And maybe we need to save the bleakest facts for later. First, we need to help them develop a deep, lasting connection with the natural world. Then, I believe, they will take up the responsibility for saving their little parts of the world in their own time.](http://24.media.tumblr.com/c49f360ba257911ad4779c9f40f8f4a9/tumblr_mn3le8M5Ck1rcctw2o1_500.jpg)
![Family Traditions Tradition! When I hear that word, I can’t help but picture Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof, arms upstretched, singing passionately about the importance of ritual and family. In my own life, there are a few traditions that might qualify for such grandeur of expression, and they mostly revolve around the holidays: lighting the tree on Christmas morning, the strict Thanksgiving protocol about which family recipe gets served in whose grandmother’s china. Then, there are the day-to-day traditions, the small customs that families embrace and make their own. My older sister calls this “making a memory,” and it simply means paying attention to ordinary events and investing them with meaning.
Posted By Mary Alice Moore[[MORE]]For example, grocery shopping. Yes, you read that right—I am one of those wacky people who loves to grocery shop. I love to cook and plan meals, and therefore I love walking slowly up and down the store aisles, examining produce and discovering new foods. But only when the store is quiet and uncrowded, which means I shop very early on Sunday mornings. Better still, my two younger sons come with me—it’s our thing, and we all look forward to it. We create a list ahead of time, and we pick up coffee and juice along the way. At some point we started a silly game where the person who comes closest to guessing what our customer number will be at the deli counter wins the right to place their drink in the shopping-cart drink holder. Over time, this little game has evolved into a spirited competition, with lots of different strategies (“it’s raining today, so I bet a lot people haven’t shopped yet”) to guide the guessing.
But by far the most important tradition in our family happens at the dinner table. Like most families, we juggle a lot of schedules, which means we manage to eat dinner all together about three nights per week. I pay careful attention to those nights; I work hard to make them calm and pleasant and memorable. We always ask two questions: “What was the best part of your day?” and “What was the hardest part of your day?” I deliberately avoid the term “worst” because it sounds defeatist and not worth dredging up. Saying “hardest” instead of “worst” prompts more discussion, which is always the goal, especially as kids get older. It’s a way to get beyond the frustrating one-word answers: Nothing, Fine, OK, the barely-perceptible shrug.
As often as not, the responses to “best” and “hardest” are unremarkable: “I got to be line leader!” or “There were fish sticks for lunch, ewww!” But frequently they’re more revealing and occasionally even enlightening: the nuances of friendship, teachers who are “unfair,” feeling proud or invisible or vulnerable. Emotions are expressed, conversations unfold, brothers offer perspective and humor and sometimes even sympathy. Importantly, my husband and I participate as well, which offers the opportunity to model some of the advice we give. Acknowledgements such as “I had an important meeting today, and it went really well!” or, conversely, “…and it didn’t go well, so my boss wasn’t happy” help kids see that everyone makes choices, struggles with decisions, and just plain has ups and downs.
Having family traditions is a terrific way to show your kids that they’re part of something special, that they matter. What are your family traditions—the big ones, and more importantly, the small ones you created yourself? What are the traditions that make you dance and sing with your arms over your head?](http://25.media.tumblr.com/5213a4fd6dd0045162c892359ecec741/tumblr_mmqmgyxED91rcctw2o1_500.png)
![The Importance of Teaching Empathy to Children When I was a kid, the practice of letting captains choose their teams was alive and well in gym class. Those who were not athletically gifted were, of course, chosen last. One by one, a name was called, and that child would run with obvious relief and gratitude to stand with the newly formed team. The few kids left at the end looked miserable, even though they knew their fate as soon as the game was announced. Thank goodness this practice is now mostly verboten. We are much more enlightened about the potential harm public humiliation does to a child’s self-esteem.
But today, certain kids are still shut out, cut out, and singled out in embarrassing ways.
Posted By Christine F. Cully[[MORE]]It happens everywhere—not just in the gym but on the playground and in the classroom, too. Some of our Highlights readers write to us about feeling excluded. Their letters are poignant, and their embarrassment is palpable. One reader writes that she was standing with her best friend when her friend received a hand-delivered invitation to a party to which she wasn’t invited. It was awkward for her, and she wondered why the invitation wasn’t delivered more discreetly. Another reader wonders why she didn’t receive valentines from several classmates who sent cards to others, despite the teacher’s admonition to send a card to everyone or no one. Another reader wants to join the kids who play Four Square at recess, but the others refuse to give him a turn. Sometimes these exclusionary behaviors lead to bullying, which is persistent and intentional—but not always. Often, they simply reflect insensitivity to the feelings of others—a lack of compassion or empathy.
Certainly, some people have a temperament that makes empathy come more naturally. But it’s also true that empathy or compassion, like other positive character traits, can be taught.
My mother had zero tolerance for unkind behavior. My sisters and I could get in more trouble for excluding or embarrassing others than almost anything else. As a mother, I tried to teach my children similarly. I even found myself chanting the same mantras my mother once chanted to me: Kindness matters. Try walking a mile in someone else’s shoes. How do you think he/she felt? How would YOU feel? Yes, perspective-swapping—seeing a situation from another person’s point of view—can be taught. More to the point, perhaps, it is easier “caught than taught.” Kids learn best when they see adults modeling the desired behavior.
Even adults can be influenced by the positive actions of others. Look at how the “26 Random Acts of Kindness” movement swept the nation after the Newtown tragedy. Countless people pledged to perform one random act of kindness for each life lost at school on that terrible December day. The acts themselves varied widely—but they were all seeded in empathy. They all grew out of shared sorrow for the pain of others.
Many of us here at Highlights embraced the “26 Random Acts of Kindness” idea. Flooding our little corner of the world with kindness seemed like a reasonable, albeit inadequate, response to that horrific event. We hoped—no, we were certain—that children were watching us. Our children. Your children. Our Highlights readers. And I heard my mother’s voice again: Actions speak louder than words.
“26 Random Acts of Kindness” is not as much in the news these days. But the Boston bombing and other recent events remind us of the importance of teaching our children empathy. We need the conversation about this to be widespread and ongoing. And we can start right here. Will you share with us your ideas for teaching children how to be sensitive to the feelings of others? Let’s keep talking.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/07757f83c7153a0ce9ff8df51df7b916/tumblr_mmhdc6BTaf1rcctw2o1_500.png)
