The Parents for Ethical Marketing has just kicked-off a fund raising campaign. Lisa is a tireless and courageous advocate for our children- please support her efforts.
Why Parents for Ethical Marketing:
Consumer marketing is everywhere. On television. In magazines and newspapers. On the Internet and on school buses. On billboards and on bus shelters. On milk cartons and cereal boxes.
In our public schools.
And it's almost impossible to buy anything for a child without a “brand identity.” Barbie, for example, can be found on everything from band-aids to board games to backpacks.
As parents, we know there's a problem. We argue with our kids about what to buy, what to wear, what to watch and what to play. We know what is best for our kids, yet sometimes we give in when we know we shouldn't.
Of course, parents are ultimately responsible for raising healthy children. But corporate marketers would have us believe that combating their damaging commercial messages is exclusively our problem
Parents for Ethical Marketing thinks it’s about time that corporations take some of the responsibility.
Through parental awareness, public pressure, and legislative initiatives, Parents for Ethical Marketing encourages corporations to adopt responsible marketing standards and practices that sustain the health of children and families.
We received the following story via a chain email and thought that it is worth sharing with all of you. I don't know who wrote it- if you know, please let us know so that we can properly attribute the story.
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe.
I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my child to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
“Now that I’ve been drafted,” Navarro said, “I’m ready right now to play second base. I might take his job.”
In Memphis, somebody ought to fetch one of those low-hanging, welt-raising switches, because Joe B. Scott is fixing to be a ballplayer again.
“I love baseball,” he said. “I used to get a whipping for playing it. My mother used to whip me on Thursdays and Sundays. Those were my whipping days because she knew I was on the ballfield. But I didn’t cry when she whipped me.”
He’ll be selected by the Milwaukee Brewers in the draft. Held, of course, on a Thursday.
In San Diego, Neale “Bobo” Henderson packed for Orlando. He’ll be 78 in three weeks. Sadly, his wife, Annie, is ill and won’t accompany him. But he’s waited the better part of a lifetime for this, to be draft-day eligible, draft-day worthy, draft-day remembered. So he’ll leave Annie behind for a few days, report for duty 60 years coming, dust himself off again and get on with it. He’ll be drafted by the Los Angeles Angels.
Rogers Hornsby, a minor league manager and occasional scout in the 1940s, watched Henderson play a few games. Henderson said the Hall-of-Fame second baseman called him “The California Comet.”
“I was known for my head-first slides,” he said. “Rogers Hornsby really liked my head-first slides.”
Yes, he’ll dust himself off one more time.
Navarro, Scott, Henderson and 27 other former Negro Leaguers will be drafted in a pre-draft ceremony, a tribute formulated by Hall-of-Famer Dave Winfield and embraced by Major League Baseball.
Aging men (and one woman, Mamie “Peanut” Johnson) who once were denied access to the big leagues but not the national pastime, who abided the rules of a narrow-minded era, who made do in a separate-and-not-equal game, smiled gently and accepted with true graciousness.
Thanks Mr. Winfield for finally getting this done!
So, they readied themselves in San Juan and Memphis and San Diego, and they recalled people and events and laughter amid the darkness. They once bunked in high school gymnasiums and in preachers’ guestrooms, but when they awoke they got to play again, and the game was worth it. Now they’ll share a day with future major leaguers, among former major leaguers. They’ll be a part of it.
“Dave Winfield is an angel sent from heaven,” Henderson said. “That man has really worked hard for us. We are like Major League baseball players now. This is God’s work. I hear it’s supposed to rain, but He’s going to make sure it’s going to be a sunny day down in Orlando.”
CIRCLEVILLE, Ohio -- One good act led to another, like a daisy chain of generosity looped around
One teenager donated money and toys to a baby on kidney dialysis.
Another group raised money to help a family recover from a house fire.
All of the goodness that spilled across the county began with a class assignment at Circleville
Teacher Pat Colangeli handed each of the 20 students in her freshman English class a $10 bill
one January morning. She told them they could keep it, give it away, or use it as a seed to grow
something bigger to make a difference in the community. The Circleville City Schools Foundation
provided the seed money.
One student held a bake sale. Others asked friends, family and service clubs for donations.
Others asked businesses to donate supplies so they could print publicity fliers. A couple of girls
made a pitch at Sunday Mass.
By yesterday's completion of the assignment, the students had transformed $200 into $7,050.
No wonder their teacher cried so hard yesterday during a ceremony in the high-school cafeteria.
"I'm very proud of them," she said.
So are their parents. Cameras clicked and applause rang out in the cafeteria as the 20 students
gave their donations to the people and causes they helped.
This is what the students did with their $10 bills:
• Brooke Frye raised $815, including $200 worth of toys, for 9-month-old Jackson Mace, the
infant with the failed kidneys. Brooke's gesture touched the hearts of Jackson's parents, April and
"We are just awestruck by this," Mr. Mace said. It was Brooke's turn to be surprised when Mrs.
Mace gave her a check for $200 and told her to save it for her college fund.
• Eleven students raised $3,118 to help Charles and Dreama McGowan and their four children
replace what they lost in a January house fire. A washer and dryer were delivered Wednesday; toys
"It makes me feel so good inside," Mrs. McGowan said. "This is like their second Christmas." The
children, 9-year-old Kylee, 5-year-old Kiana, 3-year-old Kyza and 1-year-old Charles III, gathered
excitedly around the students for the toy distribution.
Students Betsey Brown, Laura Burns, Cody Clanin, Jenna Grunden, Casey Lockard, Rebecca Maddox,
Kyle Moats, Claudia Skurlock, Andrew Streetz, Kayla Theis and Randi Cordial collaborated on helping
• Joni Palmer raised $387 for the Breast Cancer Fund of Ohio, which helps women who cannot
afford mammograms. Joni's grandmother, Nevaleen Collins, died at 47 in 1978 of breast cancer. Joni
wore a pink T-shirt yesterday imprinted with a photograph of the grandmother she never knew.
• Jon Streetz, Nick Foster and Andy Burns donated more than $1,200 to the Emergency
Clearinghouse Food Pantry in Circleville. Even more impressive, the boys presented the food-pantry
director, Mary Easter, with a bouquet of pink roses.
• Justin Remotap, Amber Huston, Samantha Cline and Emily Marcum raised $1,330 for the
Circleville Area Humane Society and $200 for the Pickaway County Dog Shelter.
"We're ecstatic," said Humane Society Director Christine Roan, who plans to add the money to a
fund to buy and equip a building for stray cats and for animals held in animal-cruelty cases.
The 20 freshmen also had something for their teacher yesterday: their gratitude.
"Thanks, Mrs. Colangeli for picking our class as guinea pigs," Lockard said. "I think it worked