Halloween, Part II: Self-Determination

I am a member, and former Co-Chair (until I got tired of doing all the work) of the Rainy State Mediation Association's Standards and Practices Committee. In this capacity, I have spent many, many hours in a small room with several grey-haired male lawyer-types debating every word, punctuation mark and format detail, not to mention the substance, of the Core Standards of Mediation Practice. I created babies faster and with less pain than I created the "Core Standards" (and, please don't just say "Standards", because just the agreement to call them "Core Standards" accounts for at least a week of my life that I will never get back).

OK, I don't really expect or want you to go read the "Standards", whether they are "Core" or not, because I am the only person in Strider's House who really cares about them. I provided the link because one of the main debates of this project was whether "Self Determination" was "the fundamental principle of mediation" or "a fundamental principle of mediation.". While the purists eventually acquiesced to "a", we did re-number it to be the "first of equals".

Really. Some of you have told me that no matter how many times I tell you what I do, you still don't understand it. That's because it's hard to describe how much of my job is sitting in a room with a bunch of grey haired male lawyer-types debating "the" versus "a", and that I am good at my job in part because of my ability to believe that those decisions matter.

Wait, Mama... what happened to Halloween?

Halloween has always been important to Mama's family. For those of you who may not know, Oosje immigrated to this country on Halloween night when she was 5 years old. Her first English was "Trick or Treat". She and her sister thought that they had truly come to the land of milk and honey until it was explained to them on November 1 that the event came but once a year.

Granma, Oosje's mother, brought only a few items with her. The largest possession that crossed the Atlantic with them was her sewing machine. It was an old treadle and she used it for the only "machine sewing" she ever did, although most of her work was by hand. She sewed beautiful, amazing clothes for Oosje, for Mama and for Auntie BSU, not to mention all our dolls. She sewed amazing costumes for Oosje and her siblings for Halloween.

From early on, Granma taught Oosje how to sew and Oosje put her skills to good use on amazing costumes for Mama and Auntie BSU. A local talking crow named "Jim", princesses, millionaires, a "DustBuster", every year the selection and creation of our Halloween costume was important and individual. It was an annual search for identity. And Oosje always made it happen. When I was a little older and saw the kids who came to school in store-bought costumes, I felt sorry for them. When I asked my friends what they were going to be and they said they didn't know yet, I was downright puzzled. There was only one group who could match Oosje's work, and that was the Moms of 3 boys (I don't remember their names, I'm sure Oosje does, though), who would sew "team" costumes for them. They would be the "Superfriends" or the "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles". I'll admit now, I was jealous of them.

So, in the fall of 2005 as Boo approached her first Halloween, I realized that one of the fundamental principles of motherhood to me was the creation of the Halloween costume. Year 1: Ladybug, because as she had not yet really defined her own personality, she did have bugs in her room and perfect "antennae". Year 2: Boo was Boo, because, well, because.

So, we are on Year 3. I didn't think she was quite old enough to understand choosing her own costume. So I decided I should suggest a costume to her, but get her approval. I thought about her interests, and I'm sure I was influenced by the memory of the team in elementary school, and I suggested that she and R2 be Dora and Boots.

"Yes!" she said.

I knew that a not-quite-3-year-old would not understand or retain this information, so we talked about it regularly. Dora and Boots for Halloween. This was my insurance policy for when I tried to put the costume on her and she didn't understand.

I need not have worried. She learned all about Halloween and Trick-or-Treat from her daytime family. She had the whole story down several weeks before Halloween.

Then, one day, she told Daddy she was going to be a kitty for Halloween.

"Does Mama know this?" Daddy asked.

I heard the conversation from R2's room and resigned that despite my considerable planning towards Dora (fortunately I hadn't executed any of it yet, mostly because of the astounding difficulty in finding a plain grey hooded infant sweatshirt), she would have to be a kitty. After all, self-determination is at least "the" fundamental principle of Halloween, if not mediation. It made a little bit of sense. Dora was a kitty for Halloween in one episode.

So, when R2 and I came out, Daddy asked Boo to tell me what she wanted to be for Halloween. She said "a pumpkin."

"Hmmm" I thought to myself, "This self-determination thing is going to be hard to pull off with a toddler."

Over the next few days, I tried to get her to commit to one. I would ask what she was going to be and she would answer "kitty" or "pumpkin" or "Dora and R2 will be Boots". Time was getting short and I still didn't know what costume I was going to have to create. Finally, one day, I said "Boo, you can be whatever you want for Halloween, you just have to choose one." No, I didn't really think it would work. But, I was getting desperate.

She said very plainly, "I am going to be a kitty, and a pumpkin, and Dora."

I explained calmly, "Yes, you can be a kitty, or a pumpkin, or Dora. You just have to choose."

She said, less calmly, but no more plainly, "I am going to be a kitty, and a pumpkin, and Dora."

I tried again. "Sweetie, you can be anything you want. You just have to decide so we can make your costume."

She said a third time, with gusto, "I am going to be a kitty, and a pumpkin, and Dora."

It slowly dawned on me. This was the first lesson in my first mediation course, and the first lesson I now teach new mediators: Listen and people will tell you their needs.

A-ha.

"You're going to be a Dora Kitty Pumpkin?"

"YES! And R2 is going to be a Boots Kitty Pumpkin."

"No," I said, "R2 is just going to be Boots." While Mamas may be responsible to create the annual identity their children choose for themselves, we aren't on the hook for sibling-determination.