Do you live in a bubble?

What does it mean to you when you say someone lives "in a bubble?" Is it good to live in a bubble? Do children who grow up in a bubble have a better chance at retaining the values taught within the bubble? Or does it have negative connotations for you?

Many people say that Utah Mormons live in a bubble--many of the experiences that other people in the US have are not as prevalent there, and there isn't much racial diversity.

To me, being in a bubble means that you have restricted experiences, whether it's with friends, work, leisure, entertainment, or whatever.

However, I feel that children have a better chance at succeeding in society if they have many experiences while they are still living at home with loving parents. This way, if they run into a challenging experience, they can ask for their parents' help and advice.

"Many experiences" does not necessarily mean being exposed to drugs, illegal activity, or other unsavory things. To me, it means being exposed to many occupations, people from different cultures and nations, different skills, and different places.

In this sense, maybe most children grow up in a bubble, since they don't experience much outside of their own family's culture and are not able to participate in most occupations until graduation from high school and/or college.

However, I believe that children who are able to experience many parts of life before moving away from their parents will be better able to cope with new situations that come up and be better equipped to succeed in relationships, work, and self-care.

Popular?

Middle school me would have had a hard time believing that one day I'd be one of the popular kids. However, here I am, and I'm part of that elite group in my new ward. Crazy!

I didn't really do anything special to be in the popular group. I just fit the mold: I'm young, I'm educated, I enjoy and have time to read books. I'm even a little bit sporty (ok, ok, all it is is that I run, and that's a newer thing. I'm going to write an update on that soon). Oh yeah. I also have young kids, just like all the other "popular" moms.

I actually feel kind of ridiculous talking about how popular I am.

Anyway, I'm one of those people. They are all nice, kind, and accepting people, but they are the "popular" group and many people in the ward have a hard time feeling like they fit in. Now that I'm in this situation, what am I to do about it?

First things first, let's start with what I have done. I've tried sitting with people in my ward who are not part of the popular group. I really enjoy their company, and they have so many unique talents and experiences. I'm actively trying to get to know everyone in my ward, not just the "popular" ones.

However, this isn't enough. The other "popular" people aren't following my lead. It's kind of funny, because a lot of them are shy or not very outgoing. I think they don't even realize that they're popular! For the situation to change, however, the other "popular" people need to get involved.

One of the things that made it hard for me to fit in when I was younger was that I unwittingly excluded myself from other people and their activities. We didn't share interests, so I thought that they weren't interested in doing things with me. What I didn't understand was that in order to be friends with someone different from you, sometimes you have to put some of your favorite interests on the back burner in order to foster your new friendship.

It's difficult for me to think of activities or conversation starters that don't involve children, books, or a limited amount of exercise. However, the fact of the matter is that there are millions upon millions of people in this world who don't have any interest in even one of those things. If I want to have a well-rounded worldview and include people from many walks of life in my circle of friends--regardless of where I know them from--then I need to learn to branch out, get out of my comfort zone, and take interest in their favorite interests.

Let's not be like Glinda :)

Future plans for being the coolest mom EVER!

Levi is right at the cusp of being able to play games and put together puzzles. It's been really fun working on those with him over the past month or so. Doing those things with him really makes me look forward to working on more complex puzzles and more interesting games as he, Cecil, and my future children get older.

I have visions of us being gathered around a card table working on a puzzle.

I see us playing Skip-bo, Phase 10, Uno, and Go Fish over and over again.

I'll teach them to love playing strategy games like Dominion, Settlers of Catan, and others.

We'll even get some sightseeing in--I think it would be really cool to line up a really nice weather day with a no test day in school, sign them out and go on a hike, have a picnic, or visit a museum. Doesn't that sound like fun?

Snobby or just shy?

It was the beginning of my sophomore year in college, and I had made my first "D" on a test since starting college. Although most of the students in my class had made either a "D" or an "F", I was very concerned about my grade, especially since one student (helpfully pointed out by our teacher) had made a B on the exam.

There were exactly four women in the class of at least 30 students, and as was usual at my university, seating was not assigned. Three of us women sat together to the side of the middle of the classroom--girls gotta stick together in engineering classes, you know? The overachieving student was the fourth woman in a class full of men, and she sat by herself at the front of the room, on the first row on the opposite side as my group did. She always answered questions perfectly, and seemed to have a snooty air about her when she did so. She didn't seem interested in getting to know the people who sat near her. I assumed that she didn't care to associate with those of us with inferior intellect.

Anyway, back to the "D" on my test. I was very upset by it, as I was used to scoring high grades. The teacher mentioned that there was a copy of the test in the math library with all of the solutions on it. She suggested that we look over it to find our errors. Determined, I made time to go to the math library and find out what was wrong with my test so I could fix it and do better on the next one.

I entered the math library, and asked the attendant about the sample test. He said it was currently checked out, and I'd have to come by a different time. Disappointed, I looked around for a table to do some homework at, since I was already there. As I looked around the library, I saw the overachieving girl from my class. I knew she'd have more answers than I did, and I approached. I asked if we could compare our tests, and she agreed.

As we worked on the test, I started to get to know her. What a wake up call! She was the funniest person I had met in a long time. She was also smart (obviously) and interested in the same kinds of things I was interested in. I found out that she was just shy, just like me! I wanted to hit myself for that one. How many times had I bemoaned the fact that everyone thought I was stuck up just because I didn't know how to talk to people? And then there I was pre-judging her shyness for snobbery. Way to go me, right?

Thankfully, first impressions don't rule everything. Jennifer and I became close friends, and even roomed together for the first semester of my junior year (before my mission). She was so much fun. She even played my favorite game (Boggle) with me almost every night for a whole semester before either one of us got tired of it. We had so much fun together. Just think what I would have missed out on if I hadn't overcome my bias against the supposed "snob"!

Not Your Regular Friendship

So, today is the birthday of one of my friends from high school. I haven't really stayed in touch with him (except through Facebook), so I don't really know much about what his life is like now, but he was a really great friend then. He was my friend when I didn't know how to make friends. It meant a lot to me that he was my friend.

We were kind of unusual friends. I was shy, a model student, and strictly kept away from all drugs, including alcohol and tobacco. He was outgoing, an average-to-poor student, and was a regular smoker and drinker, and (I think) had tried illegal drugs a few times.

But those things, thankfully, did not define our friendship. We both got to school about half an hour early, so we'd hang out before school started. Mostly we just talked; sometimes we walked around the halls as we talked, too. He was fun to hang out with, and had a great sense of humor. He thought I was cute, and tried to stop smoking so I'd think he was more attractive. It was difficult because all of his family members also smoked, and I probably told him that I wasn't going to date him even if he stopped smoking. I liked him just fine as a friend who smoked. At that time, the term "friend zoned" wasn't in use. I liked him, but only as a friend.

One time I was working on my calculus homework when my friend got to school. He looked at all the summation symbols and integral signs and said (humorously) that it looked like satanic symbols. The summation sign ( Ʃ ) does look pretty creepy, doesn't it? Anyway, we had a good laugh over that one.

Another time when we were walking through the halls, one of my teachers saw us and gave us a funny look. I'm guessing that the teacher either had my friend in some of his classes or had heard about my friend from other teachers. It made me laugh to myself at the time, because although my friend might be considered a "bad influence," he wasn't a bad influence. He respected what I believed and cared about and didn't try to persuade me to compromise those things.

I keep hearing how important it is for young people to choose friends who have their same values. Yes, I think that's important, but I think that young people will also benefit from having friends that have different values but respect their beliefs. Let's remember to be kind and to stop stereotypes from defining our friendships with others.

Conformity vs. Growth: A 10-year-old's problem

When I was about 9, my aunt, uncle, and--most importantly--my cousin moved to within 20 minutes of my home. At the time I was homeschooled, so I didn't know very many people outside of my immediate family. My best friends were my siblings. I was incredibly shy around other people, but I longed to expand my borders and make new friends--I was an extrovert and didn't know it! I was so embarrassed every time someone tried to talk to me and I couldn't think of anything to say. I was embarrassed that I couldn't interact normally with other people. It hurt that I didn't know how to talk to others.

So my cousin moved into town. Since my family lived just down the road from my grandparents, my cousins would come over to play when their parents were visiting my grandparents. My cousin came over a few times, and we became friends. I was so excited! I hoped that she would be my new best friend. One of my older sisters already had a best friend/cousin, and so did two of my younger sisters. This would make life so much more fun and interesting!

I don't remember ever inviting my cousin over to my house, I don't really remember exactly why. She only invited me over to her house once or twice, so our friendship was only sustained by our interaction at church. I loved talking to her. I had finally found someone I could talk to! I was so proud of myself for finally being able to hold a conversation. The only problem was that all our conversations had to be during church. How could I behave, avoid being rude and talk to my cousin at the same time?

I couldn't.

So I talked to my cousin during Primary, the classes for children. Did I mention that I was proud of having a friend outside my family? That I was excited about holding a conversation with someone I didn't know intimately well? I want to stress that fact to explain why I would talk during class. One day during Primary my uncle--my friend/cousin's father and incidentally also my Sunday school teacher--tapped me on the shoulder and told me to be quiet. I was so ashamed. I was that child that wanted to please everybody, so I tried not to cause problems or misbehave. I hadn't realized that talking to someone--a good thing--could also be a problem.

I encountered a similar problem about two years after I started public school. At this point, I was about 13 years old and in 8th grade. I still struggled with social situations, and adults still told me that I needed to contribute to the conversation after I'd been quiet for 10 or 15 minutes straight.

I had a best friend, Jenny. She was my first best friend outside of my immediate family, and I was amazed at how similar our life experiences and our ideas about life were. We had similar morals. I had finally found someone who liked being around me! I felt comfortable around her. Jenny and I sat near each other in most of our classes because our last names were both near the end of the alphabet. We took advantage of this seating arrangement, and talked when possible. I had learned from my previous experience, and tried not to be disrespectful of our teachers, but sometimes it was hard to abstain. I remember one instance in our English class--everyone had been talking, and our teacher was fed up with us! She told everyone to stop, not say a word for 5 minutes, and ... I don't remember the last part of the punishment. I think it was write something about why we were talking. Anyway, we spent a really boring 5 minutes of it. I felt bad because I usually prided myself on being perfectly behaved (I was an unusual child).

So, here we are. I was so proud of myself for being able to talk to someone--something everyone said they wanted--but I didn't have a chance to practice in an appropriate environment. My parents didn't realize that I struggled so much with this. If they had realized, I like to believe they would have tried to help me. Would they have known how to help, though? I don't think either of them is a shy extrovert, so I imagine it would have been difficult for them to relate to my predicament.

Since everyone is different and has a unique personality, I think it must be fairly common that children go through at least some things that their parents can't immediately relate to. I'm pretty sure that my children will have different challenges than I had (and different challenges from their siblings). Since Levi's greatest challenge at this point is not falling while he's walking, I'm not really sure what he'll struggle with later, but since he's my son, I desperately want to be able to help him through anything he goes through. I hope that I can be objective enough to see his struggles for what they are and not project my own childhood struggles on him or any of my other children.