Sunday, November 13, 2011

Moral Priorities

Our son Benjamin is learning new words at lightning speed, and in two languages no less. He's starting to get to that age where he can form a full enough sentence to make mistatements or out-loud ponderings that can embarrass Mommy and Daddy (i.e., ”wasn't Daddy in the bed!” shouted to the entire supermarket).

Sometimes the thing that slips out of a toddler's mouth and embarrasses Mom and Dad is a swear word, which are of course especially banished in my home country. But anyone who's been within 100 meters of Fredrik and I will know that we don't give a fuck if Benjamin says fuck. In fact, I'm not proud – though not embarrassed – to admit that we might actually have been encouraging it lately. My philosophy is that it's not the words, but the content, that is okay or not. If it's swear words that are bad, does that mean it's more taboo to say ”I'm so fucking tired” than to look a person in the face and say ”You're an ugly idiot”?

I feel we have no reason to actively discourage language we use ourselves – and since our son will never hear us use words, curse- or otherwise, to denegrate a human being, to hurt someone's feeling, to judge a person by anything other than their actions or statements, then we think he's going to turn out alright. This is a household where it's perfectly acceptable to say ”Ow, fuck!” when you stub your toe but not acceptable to say ”She's a fucking bitch.” The choice of vocabulary is completely irrelevant as a measurement of moral quality.

Anyone who's been within 100 meters of me lately also knows that I've fallen in love with Tim Minchin. A carrot-topped Australian piano virtuoso comedian with a Shakespearian vocabulary, a hard-on for rationality, Atheism, and both grammar and math jokes? I'd be hard-pressed to ask for more. His songs have been playing constantly around the Paulsson-Ceangailte household lately, and Benjamin has a favorite. The Pope Song. (The quality of that particular film is not the best, but the performance is as fabulous as ever and I WAS THERE! Ahem. I digress.) The lyrics consist of at least 40% ”fuck” if I'm forced to estimate. The chorus is, to make a long story short, ”fuck the mother-fucking pope.” Benjamin likes to dance to the song and, when it's over, cries ”again, again, more fucka fucka!” Am I now a hypocrite after saying that we don't teach him to use words to slander people? Not at all. Anyone with an ounce of listening comprehension will listen to the song and hear that it has two messages. It's not about mocking religion or a belief in God. The fact that the pope is a religious figure is at most indirectly related to Minchin's rancor. The first message: the pope has protected priests that have molested and raped children. The second message: we are a sad society if we are more offended by the word ”fuck” than the support and adoration of one billion Catholics for a man and an organization that protects child rapists. The song is as much a deceptively potty-mouthed masterpiece of social commentary as South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut. ”Horrific, deplorable violence (and war) is okay, as long as people don't say any naughty words!”

DO we live in a world where people can somehow torture up a moral relativity where child rape isn't a big deal? The message this week is, depressingly, yes. The news from Penn State reads like something out of some dark and misanthropic cousin to the Onion.

For those of you who haven't read or heard the news and might still have some hope for humankind, here's the summary: assistant coach Jerry Sandusky of Penn State's football team is being charged with a long string of crimes involving molesting and raping children. The allegations state that he used his workplace – specifically, the showers in the locker room – as the scene of his crimes. Further, that his colleagues, including the head coach Joe Paterno, were aware of his crimes and did jack squat, allowing them to continue.

Now that Sandusky has been arrested, Paterno has been fired because of his role as an accomplice to Sandusky's crimes. Riots have ensued on the campus of Penn State. But sadly, the riots are not in outrage over the fact that their school was a shameful party to years unimaginably heinous acts. They're rioting in outrage over the firing of their beloved head coach, who has ”done so much for the university”.

In Jon Stewart's report over the incident on the Daily Show, we hear that among the allegations is an incident in which a 6'5” man walked into the showers and was an eyewitness to Sandusky raping a child, and that the man did NOTHING. The description of this incident is in no way graphic, but has upset me so much that I'm a bit off-kilter. We had friends visiting last night and the topic of these Penn State riots came up, so Fredrik wanted to show them the Daily Show video, but I told him that I couldn't stomach listening to the description again.

I'm aware of the fact that other voices have come out of Penn State this week, and that the upside is that most people are genuinely outraged over what has happened to child victims. But that the first voices we heard on the subject were from people who had so violently missed the point, and that there were enough of them to constitute RIOTS, leaves a person speechless.

As usual with my blog posts, I have no conclusion, no happy ending, no deep philosophical seed of wisdom to impart. I'm really just getting it off my chest: the idea that people can muster up collective moral outrage over a slight blow to their sports program instead of pondering the hideousness of human nature revealed by this case sickens me. The priority given to sports programs at American universities has always been outrageously inflated compared to the priority given to the universities' actual mission of educating people, but this takes it to tragicomic proportions.

So I will continue to be perfectly fine with Benjamin throwing the word ”fuck” around. I have sense and priorities enough to know that that's much better than him becoming a rapist.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Accent

I'm proud of the fact that I speak Swedish with almost no noticeable accent. What little imperfections there are in my pronunciation and language only serve to make people wonder if I'm not from 'round here, but without them being able to guess where I am from. Every year when we get new students I ask each class to guess where I'm from. I do this at the end of the first lesson I have with them, so they've had plenty of time to hear me speak. Each class gets 20 guesses. None of them have ever won.

That's why I smile a bit when people say ”I DID hear that you had a bit of an American accent!” Without fail, a person has always said that AFTER finding out that I'm American. Again, forced to come up with it on their own, there are few that venture to ask if I'm foreign, and none that have managed to guess where I'm from. Their confidence that they could hear a characteristic American ”R” really only comes after I'm said where I'm from.

So I was a bit put out this morning when I was at the playground with Bennie and, after I'd exchanged about 3 sentences with her, another mom said ”Are you from the U.S.?”

But I was only crushed for a few seconds before realizing: 1) I'd been walking around the place speaking English with Bennie (or even yelling English AT Bennie) and 2) Bennie was wearing a t-shirt with a stars and stripes monkey on it.

Still, I feel the need to practice some vowels.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Jingoist Jingle

I have no idea what reminded of this today, but I've felt for a long time that the U.S. ought to change its national anthem, "The Star-Spangled Banner." A song about bombs and war doesn't seem like the best way to celebrate national spirit or start a baseball game.

I've always preferred the song "America the Beautiful." It was one of the songs we sang along with our teacher's guitar in kindergarten, so I suppose it's got a nostalgic air for me, but it also focuses on things that I think are better to be proud of. Instead of bombs, wheat fields and high mountains. Instead of victory in war, spacious skies and two vast oceans. It's a theme not unlike that of the Swedish national anthem, "Du Gamla Du Fria". Though there are apparently a lot of people who would like to change the Swedish national anthem to Ulf Lundell's "Öppna landskap," the theme is basically the same: focus on Sweden's natural beauty. (Since "Öppna landskap" mentions moonshining, though, I don't know if that change would jive with the officials...)

But whatever it was that reminded me of my distaste for "The Star-Spangled Banner" today, I decided to search Facebook to see if anyone agreed with me. There's always a group for these things, right? I can't say I put a huge amount of effort into finding a group, but nothing came up on the obvious search terms (except groups calling to change the U.K. and Canadian national anthems). I looked at the Wikipedia page for the national anthem and saw nothing mentioning a movement or campaign to get it changed. After a Google search, though, I did find this blog post by Amanda Marcotte. She argues that "America the Beautiful" is just as bombastic (pun intended, certainly) as "The Star-Spangled Banner," but personally I'm not PC enough to think a "hey, we're awesome!" attitude in a national anthem is wrong. She also says that it would be just as difficult to translate into Spanish as the current anthem -- translation into Spanish is the context in which she's brought up the issue -- but besides not agreeing with that (nothing says that the language in the Spanish version of either has to be as advanced as in the original in order to be beautiful), translatability is not necessarily my first priority here.

However, the suggestion that Amanda makes for our new national anthem, "This Land is Your Land," certainly has its appeal. Aside from echoing "America the Beautiful"'s spirit of America having a huge and varied landscape, by mentioning California, New York, the squares of the city, the shadow of the steeple -- I like the fact that it makes America not just a landscape, but a landscape with people in it. The main theme, "This land was made for you and me," a theme of inclusion that reminds us that we all came from other places, is much more worthy of celebration than superiorly bombing your enemy to smithereens. Just like with Emma Lazarus' "The New Colossus," there's a risk of feeling sarcastic when singing this song of inclusion and welcoming. But like Amanda mentions in her blog post, the last lines of "This Land is Your Land" are:

In the squares of the city - In the shadow of the steeple
Near the relief office - I see my people
And some are grumblin’ and some are wonderin’
If this land’s still made for you and me.


As Amanda writes, "Best part is the implied challenge at the end for this country to actually live up to its promise." At any rate, I'd rather sing "America the Beautiful" and feel a bit ashamed about us not quite living up to the spirit of caring for America's landscape, or sing "This Land is Your Land" and feel a bit ashamed about us not quite living up to the spirit of welcoming all types of people in our country, than to sing "The Star-Spangled Banner" and feel ashamed that my country doesn't even strive towards these priorities and focuses pretty exclusively on "bombs are kewl."

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

My Name is Lori - Karma Lite

Tonight I managed to commit an act of charity, and also to lose my bank card.

About 13 years ago I had a summer job at the 3M tape factory. I worked the graveyard shift, 10 pm to 6 am, so my days were naturally turned around. Personally, I thought it was ideal; you get to sleep as late as you want and still have your evenings free. Can't they open a graveyard shift high school that I can work at? I doubt the students would complain...

One weekend morning at about 2 am I was grocery shopping at Cub Foods and was approached by a petite Hispanic girl in a Taco Bell uniform. She probably weighed 50 pounds soaking wet. She'd just finished work and was supposed to be picked up by a family member, but the family member never showed. She wondered if I could give her a ride home. I took a quick look around while the gears were whirring in my head -- what the hell, why are there so many elderly people shopping at Cub at 2 in the blinking morning -- and decided that the quotient of possible danger to logical explanation for why she asked specifically me multiplied by the unlikelihood of someone dressing up in a Taco Bell uniform in order to kidnap me seemed pretty okay. Her house was on my way home anyway, so I told her to hop in.

When we pulled up to her house, she pulled out a Taco Bell-stamped envelope of money (it was apparently payday, and I totally wondered at the time why Taco Bell paid her in cash) and gave me a $5 bill. I most certainly did not want her money and very much wanted to refuse it and explain that I was glad I could help her get home safe, but I've always had a shyness of the "avoid ANY kind of conflict AT ALL COSTS" type (don't worry, I'm mostly over that now), so I thanked her and took the money and went on my way.

And that bugs me to this day. I was actually thinking about it earlier today. I'm excellent at holding a grudge, especially against myself.

Now, 13 years later, I'd just put Benjamin to bed here at my parents' house and headed out to pick up some milk and OJ. I took a drive over to Byerly's, just because the place gives me the super warm fuzzies. When I was putting my groceries in the car, I remembered that I wanted to take out some cash, and while I was looking back at the store to see if they had an ATM, a woman approached me and asked for help.

She wasn't a tiny Hispanic girl, but rather, a kind-sounding middle-aged lady that happened to be missing a few teeth and was on the brink of tears.

Her explanation of what she needed was a bit fuzzy to me, given that she was visibly shaken and speaking quietly, but the gist of it seemed to be: she was visiting someone at St. John's hospital, her wallet was either lost or stolen, she needed to get home to Stillwater, and wondered if I had a few dollars for gas.

I answered, quite honestly, that I didn't have any cash.

Before I had even finished saying so, she excused herself for bothering me and walked away.

This is where I go back into the store to get the cash I needed anyway, and lose my bank card.

See, American cash machines have the unfortunate routine of spitting out your cash and THEN your card. I'd forgotten this and am once again grateful that Swedish cash machines work the other way around. I grabbed my cash from the machine, went over to a cashier to ask her to break up the bill for me, and walked back past the cash machine in time to wonder why it was beeping so loudly. Then I swore pretty loudly and lunged at the machine a split second too late to save my card from being sucked back in and shredded, and was greeted by the message "Your card has been destroyed for security purposes, please contact your financial institution." (And you have to admit that you, too, would have stood there pressing buttons and hoping to magically reverse that process, yes?)

Anyway, whatever.

I went back into the parking lot and saw the dejected lady sitting in a rather vintage-and-not-in-a-good-way vehicle with two equally dejected looking men. The window was down, and as I approached I could see that she was crying. When I asked if she was alright, she tried to brighten herself up and say that she was fine. I asked about who she'd been visiting -- her dad had had a heart attack but he was doing alright now -- and saw that her gas gauge read bone dry. I gave her $5 and said that I hope her dad will be alright. She thanked me and said she was going to sit and compose herself for a while, but as I buckled up and started my car, I saw one of her male companions on his way to the 76 station with a gas can in hand.

I hope 2 gallons of gas was enough to get that clunker home to Stillwater. Perhaps now I will let myself off the hook for not refusing that other girl's money. But mostly, I just think it's funny that I've added to the list of times that my mother thinks I've narrowly escaped a kidnapping attempt outside of a St. Paul grocery store.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Klyftpotatis

The gap between poor children and rich children is up for discussion again, this time in regards to the grades they get in school: Choice in School Widens the Grade Gap .

I'd like to provide an alternative analysis.

There is indisputably a positive correlation between having well-to-do parents and performing well in school. Therefore, I don't find it inappropriate for me to exchange the concept of well-to-do kids for the concept of talented kids.

We see on the graph that grades for all 4 categories -- what has been labeled high, fairly high, fairly low, and low income kids -- have gone up since 1990.

Parents being given the opportunity to choose an alternative to mediocre public schools has therefore, according to my analysis, not brought down the lower income children. Rather, it has helped put an end to the holding back of children who are more talented at traditional schoolwork. It has even, perhaps, created the desired effect of causing the public schools to get their butts in gear and improve themselves -- thereof the rise in grades for all categories of children.

I do believe that we need to make sure everyone can choose a better school and that income, which is only symptomatically related to success in school (but, once again, undeniably related nonetheless) is a barrier that we should make efforts to break. But there would be little point to having grades if everyone got the same, wouldn't there? If anything, I think the real story in this graph is "what's up with the general grade inflation going on here??" I don't doubt Fjelkner's analysis (she is the head of my teachers' union) about returning the responsibility for schools to the national level -- I have yet to form an opinion on that subject, and frankly think it would be 12 of one, a dozen of the other -- but I appreciate Margareta Pålsson (schools spokesperson for the ruling conservative party) saying that choice in school is critical and what we need to do is make sure that those choices are open to everyone. I'm also pleased to see that even Ylva Johansson (schools spokesperson for the socialist party) sees school choice as a part of Sweden now, and that solutions to both problems and "problems" must be found in other areas.

Either way, I don't see the benefit to Sweden of making sure everyone is equally poorly educated. But, with a bit of deja vu from the earlier article I blogged about on the subject of the growing number of "rich" children, it appears that I'm surrounded by people who feel that everyone getting the same grades is an obvious end unto itself.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Lasse

I'm sitting here wondering if it's kosher for a teacher to blog about her political views. Mja. Let's say that it is.

Today is the first day of my summer vacation. My school has been open since 2006, so it was our second class of high school graduates that entered real life last Friday. Work wasn't quite over for us teachers though, as we still had our company's yearly conference/meeting to attend. The question was, what was I looking forward to more: seeing my colleagues in party mode or listening to the one speaker on the lecture list that made me drop my jaw, Lars Ohly?

Here comes the obligatory explanation of Swedish politics and whatnot. In Sweden, there are public schools (in the American meaning of the word; school that are financed by and run by the government) and there are "friskolor," which most closely resemble the American concept of "charter schools". They are financed by public funds (they receive a certain amount of money per student that attends the school) and, with a few exceptions, they must follow the same rules as any other school. The important difference is that they are run by a private company, which like all other companies wants to make some kind of a profit.

Lars Ohly is the head of Sweden's Vänsterpartiet -- the "left party". It used to be called "the left party communists," and though they've removed the communist bit from their names, it gives you an idea of where they stand politically. Of the 7 parties that make up Sweden's parliament, Vänster is most strongly opposed to charter schools.

This, and the fact that teachers are known to lean very strongly towards Folkpartiet (the Liberals, on the other side of the political spectrum), meant that I giggled when I saw that Lars Ohly would be speaking at our conference. A conference for Baggium Utbildning AB, operator of 41 charter high schools. Lars Ohly's audience would consist of 700 men and women whose monthly paycheck comes from a system that he thinks should not exist.

Oh, and it's an election year.

Ohly opened his speech by telling us that he believes it's important that there's a school out there for everyone. He worked on a government initiative which had as its goal that 50% of all Swedes would continue on in higher education after high school, but he understands that not everyone -- heck, not even 50%, he says -- should be an academic. There have to be "practical" schools, schools for people who want to be carpenters and plumbers and hairdressers and everything else that society needs but that often gets looked down upon in relation to fancy degrees and university pedigrees. But, he continued, we're making a mistake if we give these more hands-on students an education that is devoid of the theoretical; of math and English and civics and everything other kind of knowledge that may not seem important in a car mechanic's or an assistant nurse's working life but which is important for every individual citizen in their everyday, private lives and for their participation in a democratic society.

This, according to Ohly, is where the current conservative government is going wrong with education. And this, according to me, is about where his audience started to squirm in their seats.

It's not that we didn't agree with him. Well, I suppose I can't speak for the other 699, but I CAN say what our company's vision is: educate the future plumbers, carpenters, mechanics, florists, painters, and all other kinds of hands-on workers of tomorrow, in an apprenticeship-based format where they spend about 50% of their high school hours working at an honest-to-goodness company. "Everything that can be learned on the job should be learned on the job." But we also think it's important that all of our students become well-rounded and prepared for real life, not just working life. Future voters and law abiders need to know civics. Future homeowners and wage earners need to know math. And future members of a rather small European country in a quickly shrinking world need to know English. Our students study the same core subjects as all other high school students and are qualified for university studies when they graduate.

We agree, in other words, with Lars Ohly. Is that what made us uncomfortable? No, rather, it was merely the fact that he talked to us as though we didn't. Or, perhaps, as though WE did, but worked for a company that didn't. Was it the case that he wasn't entirely up to speed about our company, or was it all the OTHER schools he was talking about ("NOT you guys, you guys are good.")?

He continued by talking about how it's important to provide for those who make the wrong choice or who change their minds after choosing a certain program. Students in Sweden are forced to choose a specific educational program when they apply for high school, and that's a rather heavy burden we put on the shoulders of our 15-year olds. But what about those who discover "too late" that they've made the wrong choice? What if they finish high school, start working, and then discover that the job that they've trained for is really not their thing?

Then he came to the meat of the speech, the bit that we were all waiting for. "I can't come and talk to Baggium Utbildning without talking about charter schools." In short, Lars Ohly is sceptical to a profit motive in a system financied with public funds and which has a mission as important as educating our children. It leads to charter schools hiring unqualified teachers, skimping on the teacher-student ratio, and cutting corners wherever possible in terms of materials, school nurses, libraries, and all other forms of things that make an education richer but a school's wallet emptier.

His central critique of our concept -- yes, now he was getting personal -- is that we ought to have our students out at a workplace less often. "It's important not to abdicate responsibility for the student's education. Sometimes it works well, but sometimes it works really poorly."

Of course, I have translated his comments into English and shortened them, but I do not feel that I have paraphrased too brutally or corrupted the tone.

After his speech, Ohly took questions. I was hoping the microphone might come my way before time ran out. I was calculating our teacher-student ratio in my head and thinking about which of my colleagues were qualified. I was trying to piece together what he said at the beginning of his speech with the seemingly conflicting remarks he made at the end. But I didn't have to worry that his comments would go without opposition. I felt that the best comments came from the leaders of the company, perhaps because they took the words out of my mouth. But since this is my blog, I'll let myself get a bit more wordy and put it my way.

Charter schools are not subject to the same laws that require public schools to hire qualified teachers as often as possible. That doesn't mean that we don't. Baggium's goal is prioritize qualified teachers. When a qualified teacher isn't available, we prioritize highly skilled professionals with experience in their fields (that is, experience as plumbers, small business owners, etc.) with the good communication skills it requires to instruct young people and keep up a good relationship with the companies out students are placed at. Our hiring processes are, in other words, the same as at a public school. It's not an easy task finding a person who is both a plumber and has a teaching degree, no matter if the employee is a private or a public institution. In my eyes, a plumber with 30 years of experience and an open and pedagogical attitude is preferable to a person who's never held a wrench (or, for that matter, much better than no teacher at all). In the case of core subjects, 80% of Sweden's working teachers are qualified. At my school, that number is 100%. Perhaps because our school doesn't hire unemployed civil engineers to be math teachers and then work around Sweden's school laws to avoid having to fire them when a slightly more expensive qualified teacher comes along -- a practice not at all unheard of at public schools.

But our core teachers are not "just" qualified. I have a Swedish teaching degree in mathematics and English, but I also have a master's in math, English is my native language, and my education in computer science and art make me a valuable asset at a workplace where students have to be taught to use our intranet, computers often have to be fixed up after our students have used them, a website has to be administrated and a whole mountain of addresses, grades, and schedules has to be databased with pedantic precision. None of these things are necessary in order for me to count as an officially qualified teacher, but they make me a better teacher and a better employee. They are valued by my employer, both figuratively and literally: I command a salary more than 10% above what I would receive at a public school, where my age and number of years of experience would have been plugged into a formula and my "extra" merits would be verbally praised once or twice but otherwise ignored. The story is much the same for my colleagues in our core subject department. Add to the fact that our employer provides salary bonuses after 5 and 8 years of experience or after we've done something "above an beyond" our everyday duties that benefits our students, as well as the fact that they help our unqualified teachers become qualified by providing classes or time off of work for studies, and many of Ohly's criticisms fall flat on their face.

So we clearly don't skimp on our teachers, whether we're talking qualifications or purely in dollars, so what do we skimp on? Surely something has to give if the company is going to make a profit? We don't have the money to buy all the equipment we would need to train a mechanic, a plumber, or a groom. We can't have a state-of-the-art workshop on site or a fully functional stall with 5 horses. But we don't have to. We put our students where those things already exist, where they get to learn by doing instead of just reading, and that gives us more freedom to invest in textbooks, a school library, healthy school lunches instead of re-heated, transported, mass-produced food-like substances. Ohly's main critique of our schools is that our students are too often at a workplace and too seldom at school, but aside from "learning by doing" being the core idea of our company it's also what allows us to have the resources to build a better school and gives our students the ability to discover "hey, this job really isn't for me" long before they graduate. It doesn't mean we abdicate responsibility for our student's education -- a theory that our work subject teachers can disprove by showing how many miles they drive every week to visit and evaluate our students at work.

Pure numbers can say a lot. Ohly mentioned that the teacher-student ratio in Swedish schools has dropped from 9.1 teacher per 100 students to 8.3 to 100 in recent years. At Baggium's schools the average is 10.3 and at my school it's 12. And that's not counting the mentors at our student's work placements. In core subjects, our students are in groups of about 16 -- about half the size of groups at the public schools. In their work subjects, the groups are even smaller. I know the name of every student at my school and have had all but a handful in some subject. Since we tend to get kids who don't think school is fun, this level of attention is incredibly important. So Ohly? We're not skimping.

You can tell that I really believe in what we're doing at my place of work. I don't believe it's a concept that would have developed or survived in the public school system. And after my company has been doing it for 11 years, we've been noticed by the current government and been made a "model school" for the high school reforms being planned for next year. And I believe in the concept of charter schools and choice in education enough that my son will be starting at one this fall. "Sometimes it works really well, but sometimes it works really poorly." Ohly's words apply very well to the public school system.

I don't have much hope that Ohly's opinions would change after standing in front of 700 teachers (representing 5000 students) that prove the opposite. But I think something he mentioned at the beginning of his speech says a lot. His son is a student at one of our schools. I guess he doesn't think we're so bad after all!

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Baby bites

Some of my cooking skills are now going to making baby food for the littlest human in the house. I am absolutely no expert on baby nutrition, but I would like to think that I am at this point at least in the 90th percentile of well-informedness about baby food and nutrition among the group of baby mommies. So the recipes I'm making for Benjamin are based off of carefully pondering over the labels on commerical baby food, reading and re-reading all the literature that magically appears in one's mailbox once one has a baby in Sweden (from Nestlé, Semper, and other baby food companies, as well as from the pediatric clinic and the Swedish food administration), as well as some pretty good websites about baby food and nutrition.

One thing that I've noticed is that recommendations about what babies can and can't eat are even less universal than recommendations about what a pregnant woman can eat.

We're told that a breast-milk only diet until 6 months of age is best, but that it's okay to start giving some solids at 4 months if you choose to. I believe that most BVC (pediatric) nurses in Sweden say the 6-month thing because social services requires them to say so, and it's a shame that they have to feel conflicted when they feel a specific baby needs something more (as Benjamin did). However, I have a super BVC nurse who is very supportive of the super-fast food track Bennie has been on since I finally waved the white flag at 5 months. He was barely gaining any weight and was very displeased and impatient every time we nursed. Once we started him on solids, he sucked down everything we put in front of him. Already now at 7 months he's eating sandwiches and even biting and chewing bananas with a relative minimum of help. I'm sure some nursing or baby experts would hit the roof, but Benjamin has never once choked, never vomited from not being able to handle bigger bits of food (as I've seen other babies do), had most foods, especially common allergens, introduced one at a time, has never refused anything that we've given him, and is now following his weight curve very nicely. He still breast feeds on a schedule that works for us, and most importantly, he's so happy most of the time that we're starting to suspect that someone has spiked his toys with baby-nip.

The list of no-no foods we get from the pediatric nurses here in Sweden seems to be more relaxed than most; before they're a year old, the babies are not supposed to have veggies like spinach or beets (nitrates are hard on a baby's kidneys), excess salt (also kidneys), or honey (spores that can produce botulism). They also suggest we avoid sugar, nuts, and milk as a drink, but for far less "dangerous" reasons -- avoiding bad habits, avoiding choking, and avoiding replacing iron-rich foods and formula with milk, in that order. Aside from those things, everything else is pretty much A-OK from 6 months, as long as it's a reasonable consistency and the diet is varied. I've seen plenty of sites from other countries that say carrots and blueberries are a no-no until 1 year of age, despite the fact that they're sold as 4-month foods here, and I have Australian friends who have made spinach curry for their babies (which means I know, knowing these women, that no doctor has forbidden spinach for their babies). And of course, all the other moms my age here were subject to completely different recommendations when they were babies -- they ate spinach, were started on sugary juices are solids at the age of 6 weeks or something crazy, etc.

The point is, sometimes they seem to be talking out of their asses. Or at the very least, the recommendations might actually have about as much meaning as a swimmer shaving his legs. My son might or might not have a marginally larger chance at perfect health because I follow the prevailing recommendations where I live and don't feed him spinach, but perhaps the fact that he eats blueberries and carrots will cancel it out, who knows.

One site I've used a lot, at least for inspiration or comparison, is Wholesomebabyfood.com. It's run by a mom who has studied nutrition and fed all of her kids, including a set of twins, on homemade baby food. The site contains recipes for everything from single-ingredients purées to whole meals and finger foods for older babies, nutritional facts about different foods, information about storing and freezing, and even things like introducing cups and straws. The age recommendations for introducing different foods are also a bit more on the conservative side, but the plus side is that the site explains why they think a certain food might not be appropriate before 8 or 10 months -- and therefore it's easier to decide if you think it will work for your baby earlier or not.

The following recipes are perhaps not perfectly balanced for baby nutrition, but I do think I've done a pretty good job anyway. I make them fairly chunky, so by typical recommendations these foods might not be right for most babies before 8 months or even later. My baby food is also very thick (as in, not watery), as Benjamin is very particular about this as well (he's like the anti-baby...) so for other babies you might need to add extra water or formula and therefore these recipes would make more portions. Peas and tomatoes can also be tough on small tummies, the former because of the skins and the later because of the acid, but Benjamin hasn't had a huge problem with either. Milk, wheat (as in the pasta, couscous or flour) and fish are among the 8 most common allergens, so you want to be extra careful to first introduce them alone for 4 or 5 days (that is, make sure fish or wheat or dairy is the only new food the baby eats that week). But anyway... here they are:

Cod Casserole
2 dl rice
400 g cod or other white fish
600 g green peas
1 T canola oil
1 T flour
2 dl whole milk
dill

Cook the rice as directed. Boil the cod and peas until the cod is thoroughly cooked and the peas are soft. Purée the cod and peas -- and if you feel you need to, the rice -- until they are the desired consistency. Mix the oil and flour in a saucepan; add milk and simmer for a couple minutes until the sauce has thickened a bit. Add a bit of dill. Mix everything together to make a pretty green mush! This ought to be 8 full baby meals -- that is, the amount of food you'd find in a store-bought jar.

Baby Thanksgiving
400 g chicken (I used frozen thighs; make sure you get the type without salt added)
500 g sweet potato, cut up into cubes
500 g frozen green beans (not canned; that has salt)
1 T canola oil
1 T flour
2 dl milk
sage, rosemary, thyme

Pretty much the same as the last one, just with a different kind of meat and veggies! I boiled the sweet potatoes for about 20 minutes, adding the chicken after 5 minutes and the beans after 10 or so. You want it all cooked through and soft anyway. Then it was into the mixer to purée it all. The sauce is the same as well -- mix the oil and flour and then add the milk and simmer until thickened -- but this time I added some sage, rosemary and thyme instead of dill. Mix it all together, this time you get orange goop instead of bright green. And this is also 8 portions.

Lasagna
350 g couscous or crushed pasta
2 T canola oil
250 g zucchini
250 g mushrooms
500 g canned crushed tomatoes (or perhaps tomato sauce if you find it without added salt)
2 T flour
6 dl milk
50 g shredded cheese
basil, oregano, parsley, garlic powder

Cook the pasta as directed. Grate the zucchini and mushrooms on a cheese grater. Cook zucchini and mushrooms in the oil in a big pot until they're very soft. Add the tomatoes and pasta. Add spices. If needed, purée the pasta mixture in your mixer, but it might not be necessary. In another pot, milk the flour with a little bit of the milk until smooth. Add the rest of the milk and simmer for a few minutes. Add the cheese, whisking constantly so it melts without sticking to the bottom or lumping. Mix the cheese sauce and pasta mixture. This one is probably about 12 full-meal portions for baby. I actually thought it tasted pretty good myself, or at least would have with salt!

A note about the lasagna: it contains no meat, is a bit on the low side as far as protein goes, and I don't believe it contains a good source of iron. So it's not the kind of thing a baby should be eating every day, as protein and iron are big deals for baby. But I'm sure it's okay as part of a large variety of foods and meals.

Freezing
I put together a collection of small tupperwares (okay, fine, small plastic food storage containers) so that I can freeze up Bennie's food in portion sizes. You want tupperwares that hold at least 200 ml, but preferably not so much bigger than that, and that have pretty flexible sides. Glop the baby food into them portion by portion, and then when they're frozen they can be popped out (perhaps after letting them sit with their bottoms in cold water for a short while) and stored in freezer bags. It means I get away with making baby food once a week instead of hecticly trying to cook and mash and purée and whatever at every meal. The point with being able to pop them out of the tupperwares is so that you don't have to use up all the baby food before you can freeze more.

I heat Bennie's food in the microwave, as I don't believe the hype about it destroying nutrients and turning babies into cyclops, but you can thaw it out in the fridge as well.

Freezing single-ingredient baby food in ice cube trays also worked really well at the beginning, before Bennie was eating more complete meals. The Wholesomebabyfood.com site has very good info about freezing.



So, uh. Do my mood swings between political rants and housewifey baby food recipes seem too violent for you? No? Glad to hear it!