LIE Links

Black Women Don’t Swim? [ColorLines]

Of course, it’s hard to prove that past racist policies are directly responsible for apparent the lack of a swimming culture in some urban communities of color. On the other hand, in segregated cities, where structural racism continues to shade into the use and perception of public recreation, it seems less outlandish to focus on the role of historical memory versus, say, Black women’s supposedly life-consuming hair neuroses. But of course, it’s more fun to just indulge public fascination with how hairstyles influence Black women’s behavior. And when that story gets old, just add water.

Coalition Calls on Toys “R” Us to End “Toxic Toy Story” [Inhabitots]

PVC, or polyvinyl chloride, is the most dangerous plastic of all. BPA? Check. Pthalates? Check. Lead? Also check. So why is are these toxins found in so many children’s products? A coalition led by the Center for Health, Environment & Justice is presenting that question to the largest toy store in the world, Toys “R” Us, today at its flagship location in Times Square.

I don’t talk about strollers, I talk about race [Los Angelista’s Guide to the pursuit of happiness]

I don’t want to read about strollers. I want to read about how do I raise my child with the social and spiritual mindset, skills and knowledge to be a productive member of society?

 My boys go to summer camp and on Wednesday they took a field trip to Zuma Beach. I figured the most exciting thing to happen would be a jellyfish sighting. Unfortunately, on the bus ride home, one of the other campers, an older 13 year-old boy, decided to slap my nine year-old , Mr. O, and hurl some racial epithets his way.

 I had to figure out how to respond to that, and in the long run, how I deal with that will mean more to my son than what stroller I bought him or what babyfood he ate.

 The Pursuit Of Parenting [Rice Daddies]

Recently, I suffered my children’s fierce complaints about having to go to Chinese school over the summer. All of their other friends had the time to themselves – they travelled and played and filled scrapbooks (or hard drives) with tokens from their adventures. My kids were frustrated that they were spending the summer sitting at a school desk for four hours a day, writing and reciting passages they have yet to gain a strong understanding of.

I looked towards my mother, who simply sat there witnessing my children’s tirade, and I knew – I knew I was doing a good job parenting. I knew this because a smile was tucked snugly in the corner of her mouth. It was a smile that dared me to remember how much I protested Chinese school when I was as young as my children are today.

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