Layers and Filters

Today was dedicated to social studies -- we needed to get out of our apartment and see our city.  What with the subways being down, and the park closure, and everything else related to the hurricane and the blizzard we were one solitary step away from becoming mole people. 

The integral ingredient to soul-satisfying wandering-about is to start with a purpose; the Doughnut Plant has month-specific flavors; there is a narrow window for pumpkin. We went to the Chelsea location, and after our sticky consumption followed 23rd street over to the most beautiful Home Depot on the planet. Once upon a time (turn of the last century?) it was Stern's -- a high end department store that had pianists on every floor. It was called "the giant wedding cake on 23rd" -- which provides a nice picture of its detailing and whiteness. We rifled through some metal drawers and got some screws that we've needed for over a year (I've found that some cupboards don't actually need functioning handles, but the teenage interloper shamed me out of my slovenliness), and The Boy picked out some small metal pinning things that he's sure he'll need for an experiment. The entire purchase was under $2. 

We walked past the Marble Collegiate Church and saw the prayers for peace ribbons. I was hoping that they represented soldiers that might still be coming home, but that's not the case.

From cool vintage vacuum cleaners to a not-cool man ranting and screaming in our faces about how we are idiots if we don't know that the Chicago mafia is the devil, this city provides. The kids were so happy to be out and about they asked to go through every door ("Um, no... inappropriate." I said about one store. "Every store has inappropriate stuff, we just don't pay attention," was the response by one of my wise sages... still, the veto remained). The point was valid though, I have to rely heavily on them having/developing strong filters.   

We grabbed the M2 -- a limited bus up Madison to 57th where we hopped off and walked over to 5th. Here we provided the other book end to our gender studies unit: the reason why Judd the Red Chicken got his 79-cent package of small pieces of metal was to use as leverage as we girls walked through all the shimmery goodness of Tiffany's. Every time he opened his mouth to complain he had to snap it shut again when he remembered that I had bought his silence with man-type hardware. 

"That's where she stands in the movie." I said.
"Who?"
"Holly Golightly."
"We don't know what you're talking about."

Could it be possible?

Having marked ourselves as tourists by taking the Tiffany & Co. picture we went ahead and joined the flock of Euros watching the b-boys/flippers. I actually said, "This is kind of gym class. Except we're not doing it." Whatever the freak that means. We clapped along and watched the human body do extraordinary things. 

And then we had a sub-lesson:

"So why was it funny when he pretended to run away with the handbags?" The Girl
"And why did he keep making jokes about 'black guys' that weren't appropriate?" The Boy

Derrrrrr. I tried to explain that they were making reference to bad jokes, but because of the way that they said them they were actually trying to make fun of the bad jokes. They were making fun of people who have certain perceptions... It was the subtlety that was tripping me up... I mean we're dealing with layers, and irony, and bigotry. It's one thing to hear something horrible on the sidewalk and chat about why we don't say certain things, but it's trickier to explain the intricacies of street performers using racially-loaded satire in their schtick. 

"But they can only say those things because they are 'black guys' -- it wouldn't have been okay otherwise, right?" Kid

Well... some might say that it's still not okay, but I don't know...Who am I to throw the street performers under the bus, and hold up while I just start spinning in circles and blowing raspberries... 

Being back on the streets with the masses was good for our spirits, but it paled in comparison with being back in the park. 

Guess what we did when we got home? They wrote a rough-draft of a story, and then we popped in Breakfast at Tiffany's. Mostly I did it because we had already walked down the sticky slope of racial stereotypes so I thought Mickey Rooney's bizarre performance would solidify the material. Kidding. We watched it because we were so full of NYC-love I thought it would be fun for them to see their iconic home in an iconic way. They were happy to see the library and the park and even Tiffany's, but I was not prepared for the discussions we had. We talked about a need to belong, and a need to feel useful. We talked about making the right choice even when it hurts and makes you cry. We talked about love. My babies are growing up. 

It was dark outside by the time the movie finished. I was feeling worn out from the adventuring and critical thinking. The Girl asked if she could look up some of the jewelry on the Tiffany website because she "might want to save up for something." She typed away while I got dinner started.

"Um, Mom, come here."

Wiping my hands on a towel, I walked over to the computer where she was pointing to a unicorn broach that we saw today. 

"Look at the price."

"Yeah... It's as much as Nana and Grandpa's house." I answered.

"I don't want to save up for anything from there." She said with her chin lifted.

"Well.  It would take a while." I kind of laughed.

"No. I just don't think that's right." And she lifted her chin a bit higher and clicked away the webpage with a self-righteous flourish. 

This Woman is Grateful She Can Vote, But Ready To Go to Bed Already

A year or two ago one of the kids was getting really interested in history, and the presidents, and the history of the presidents, and donkeys vs. elephants, etc. I remembered seeing some mugs at our favorite dinnerware/glassware store, and as we were passing by the store one day I decided to run in and get the mugs -- I bought one of each. Keenly proud of my balanced they-will-choose-for-themselves-position I unwrapped the mugs to show my husband.

"That's not being balanced," he smirked, "Look at who they chose -- it's the Democrats' all-stars against the Republicans' rogue's gallery."  What? 

Lesson learned: everybody has an angle. 

We were in a taxi once and while I couldn't hear what was on the radio to prompt the conversation, I certainly heard what the taxi driver -- a young man with an accent that indicated that he was not born in the U.S. -- turned around and said to the kids and me: "I don't understand these Christians who tell me that I have to be patient and wait until I understand the big picture regarding Jesus Christ. They haven't given Obama any time at all. People who always say, 'Be patient and see' should be patient and see." NYC teaches. My point: when it teaches -- or anything/anybody teaches -- I want the kids to hear. I want them to be able to see the brilliant and the ridiculous within both parties.  The majority of our church community is very conservative, and I hope that its young congregationalists can hear any sound political principals from those church members as well.  In fact, we have a very close family friend out west running for a political office on the Republican ticket and we firmly believe that he should win. We cannot vote for him obviously, but we have watched his little campaign video several times and we talk about the good things that he could do -- our collective fingers are crossed.

Critical thinkers vs. rabid constructs; believers in checks and balances vs. filibusters and blocks; advocates for reaching across the aisle... etc. The mug that the favorite dishware store came out with most recently is the one we want to have... 

Today The Girl asked pertinent questions all day like, which candidate has a dog (funny how an innocent kid's question could actually be so loaded), and she said that she wasn't sure if she didn't know who to vote for, or if she didn't really care. Her honesty was respected. I found out the moment that I stumbled out of my bedroom that The Boy was firm in his decision... he had made us all breakfast:

Yes, that's President Obama standing on a podium. 

More than the specifics of this election, we talked about broader issues. We discussed how lucky we are that today isn't a day when we have to be worried about violence. We also spent a good deal of time talking about the right to vote. We have a 17-year old in our midst who will now wait four more years before she gets to weigh in for a president, but how fortunate she is that she can look forward to that. 

For as long as the kids can remember I've worn a pin on election day that my Grandma gave to me:

It's a replica of the pin given by Alice Paul to the suffragists who had been put in prison.  Grandma had read about the pin and wondered aloud to a friend whether any pins had survived. Her friend found out that at least one had and was donated to the Framingham Historical Society and it, in conjunction with the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, made and sold replicas. She gifted my Grandma with one of those replicas and Grandma proudly wore it every year when she volunteered at the election polls (after we always talked on the phone, and she would tell me what recipe she used for the potluck the volunteers participated in). The kids love it when I wear the pin on election day, and will start reminding me about it the week before. 

I read a great book to them that I bought at the Westward Expansion Memorial gift shop in St. Louis. I was surprised at how into it they got. We studied a timeline and saw that it was 300 long years from the Mayflower to women getting the vote... when 1920 finally came The Boy pumped his fists in the air and shouted, "Yeah, yeah, yeah!" (Though, he did raise his eyebrows in a roguish way when we read the bit about husbands acquiring all the land and possessions of their wives...) The book made me cry -- which completely took me off guard because the illustrations are hideous. Here's how it ends: "The fight had lasted seventy-two years -- so long that only one woman from the Seneca Falls Convention was still alive." Sojourner Truth and Elizabeth Cady Stanton died without ever voting, and Susan B. Anthony only did once (by talking a voting inspector into letting her), but she was arrested and fined (she never paid). The amount of effort and energy that people put into causes is inspiring. We liked the roles played by some key people: Abigail Adams wrote the prophetic letter to her husband (who was rather a dud about it), Frederick Douglas saved the day at the convention, and Harry Burn, who was a Tennessee lawmaker, helped make the  (very close) decision on August 18, 1920: "In his pocket was a letter from his mother. 'Hurrah! And vote for suffrage.'" That's good stuff. We then watched the suffragette song from Mary Poppins -- the kids were like: woa... that's what that's about???

It's been a full day. The kids watched the Charlie Brown movie that we have while I made dinner, and then when The Dad came home we all went down together to vote. The Girl went with me and fed my sheet through the scanner and Judd the Red Chicken went with The Dad. I have to say that I'm sad about the new-fangled voting process. Four years ago we went into an area and pulled a curtain around us and then, after pushing all of our little levers into place, the kid got to pull (took two hands) the huge red handle that created a very satisfying sound. Oh well -- everything changes (or it doesn't). 

We made root beer floats from the special edition presidential candidate root beer we bought on our trip... and the boy vomited it up all over the bathroom floor. I'm trying to hold out to see what happens in Florida or Ohio, but I have to say that I'm fading fast... 

And

We the People of this family are incredibly grateful for the talented people that have helped us this far with the scheme. A friend we know from church, Lorianne, who has one of those brains that seems to retain and see from above and see forty steps ahead and meld everything together offered to have us over for lunch (delicious and healthy and easy (she claims)... case in point) to teach us about the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence. 

She encouraged the kids to search for the answers from the documents and the compare and contrast the two. I am sad to admit just how clarifying this experience was for me. My favorite part was when she asked the kids where they would like to travel -- they said Bar Harbor, Maine -- and then they went to the computer and printed out the route from NYC to Bar Harbor. She explained that the GOAL (Bar Harbor) was the Declaration of Independence and the MAP was the Constitution. (She also said to me that the Declaration of Independence could be thought of as a mission statement and the Constitution the business plan). 

I also liked being reminded that there were ten years between the Declaration and the Constitution when our country was a hot mess. It makes me feel hopeful for other countries that are trying to work things out right now. Life is a balance between inspiration and patience. 

There were a lot of facts and a lot of ideas.. and I will have to admit that I felt antsy because my kids were like little zombies mumbling out unintelligible responses. I have to remind myself that at 9 and 7 a lot of these lessons are just meant to be exposure... I have also been reminded of how thankless the job of a teacher is. As soon as we walked out the door both of my kids looked at me all perky and said, "That was sooooo cool."/"That was really fun!" I was like: "WHAT?" I felt like I had been sabotaged into turning into the helicopter parent ("Answer clearly please!") because I so wanted Lorianne to know how awesome it was, and so to find out that they had actually been liking it the whole time was for some reason maddening. I have no doubt that teachers go home on most days feeling like all of their creativity and thought and preparation was wasted on a bunch of mumbling zombies... So I'll just put it out there (for really no purpose other than for myself) -- to all the teachers in the world: THANK YOU, and steady on -- a lot of kids are listening and absorbing -- but the process of listening and absorbing is kind of using up all their energy, so it's super hard to also be articulate and animated. Some can do it -- and that's a goal. Our map for getting there is just more and more exposure...

We balanced out our brain workout with a little Halloween play date/party with friends from school. The kids made decorations and planned games (which they didn't end up playing because running feral is more fun and, I think, more beneficial).

There was a tragedy in our neighborhood this week, and there is a whiff of anxiety for a possible hurricane... Having good friends -- friends who reach out and offer to enlighten my children, and friends who come to our parties to play, and friends who send kind emails, and friends who bring us eggs from their chickens -- helps us feel a bit more anchored and insulated from frightening elements. 

Roaches and the Election

We have wanted our young citizens to be up on current events. Our son likes the newspaper, and has on more than one occasion suggested the deal while standing in line at Starbucks, "Can I get a New York Times and a hot chocolate instead of a donut and hot chocolate?" Often we indulge, but these days when I'm already rather crazy trying to fit in a million things, it kind of takes up a lot of time to either explain, or censor. In a perfect world Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert wouldn't have such potty mouths and then my kids could just watch them and get everything that they need by way of "news" and critical thinking, but I think that there's a better chance that they will start working for Fox.

We did learn of a website that so far has been great. It's dogonews.com and it is a bunch of news stories that cater to the younger crowd. The kids like that they don't have to have me as a filter -- they can go to it when they have spare time, choose whatever looks interesting, and read it on their own. Today while we were drying dishes (blasted dishwasher broke... this city has already made it so that I would NEVER cease to be grateful if I had a washer and dryer in my home... now I've got a new reverence for dishwashers), the kids told me all about cockroaches that are being fitted with wire antennae (bionic roaches), and little backpacks with cameras, and then being trained to go into rubble to search for survivors. They were stoked. I was like: "Ugh. Come on. Don't make me respect a cockroach." Can't some things just be obviously awesome or obviously repellent? All this having to keep thinking about every little thing is wearisome. 

Speaking of, we are gearing up for the election. While in St. Louis, at a nice little independent bookstore called Left Bank Books, I picked up the book: The People Pick a President. I read it, stopping to explain if necessary, and the kids take notes. Then at night they're supposed to explain what they've learned to The Dad. So far one set of notes that I'm looking at right now says:
1. 4 years
2. Damakreshe [democracy... some German ancestor must have been possessing her or something]
3. D. [she was even afraid to try to spell it again] means peopel have the power to choose govermet
4. longest and toufist electchen
5. chief executive
6. heads executive branch
7. suggest laws to congres
8. cheif of state
9. top diplumat
10. comander in cheif [this was listed 17 times]
11. cabnet = 15 experts
12. advisers
13. constetuchin rules
14. 35 years old
15. lives in united states 14 years
16. nataral born sitasen in u.s.
17. electin day has to be on first tuesday after the first monday
18. electoreo collage desides the president

Not sure if that spelling is typical for a 2nd-grader, but in her defense, she was taking notes rapidly, and if she retains half of that, I have a sad hunch that it is more than many adults know... and they will actually be voting. 

Thanks

First of all, I want to thank those of you who have been reading this blog and sending me lovely emails and/or saying encouraging things when we meet. Today while talking to Friend A our conversation went to the goofiness of blogs and I suddenly felt weepy. True, we have all been fighting colds and and not getting enough sleep because of the cacophony of coughs (excellent alliteration execution), but mostly I think it's because I have found this whole blogging business to be surprisingly more. 

It's more work than I thought -- chucking something onto this screen at the end of a night when I'm exhausted; it's more personal than I thought -- how to express an idea without some bloodletting?; it's more embarrassing than I thought -- seeing mistakes -- either mechanically or substantively days after the fact... yipes...; it's more humbling than I thought -- I talked to somebody who has a "following" of tens of thousands a day... ummmm, yeah...I don't have that.  I didn't set out to have that (of course I say that -- it's like when that kid broke up with you in 7th grade and you were all: well, I didn't want to be going out anyway...).  I truly do see this as a journal for our family, a way to stay connected to a few friends, and maybe a way to share ideas with others who question what and how this generation of moppets can be learning...

And yet, in the spirit of full discloser, as stupid as it sounds (I've been blogging for a solid three weeks) there was a part of me that heard that (tens of thousands a day?!?), and thought: wow, I'm pathetic... I'm doing something chumpy and I'm not even a "successful" chump...

However, three people came through for me.  Friend A, my high school English teacher, and Mr. Rogers.

Friend A, seeing me crumble, said simply: "Don't stop."

Ms. G's card that she gave me on graduation night said to remember that more important than a best-selling novel will be the words that I write to my family and friends.

Mr. Rogers spoke to me through a video that I really should watch every morning before I open my mouth for the day...  

Today, after a hard day of blowing my chapped nose and destroying any confidence my kid might have had in his/her math skills (I'm pretty sure that I won the Biggest Biotch in the Building competition -- and we live in an enormous building -- eat that tens-of-thousands-a-day...), I knew that my family needed some healing. And so I turned to Fred Rogers.

If you haven't watched Mister Rogers & Me you need to get on it.  On the cover it says that it's "one man's story," referring to the director, Benjamin Wagner's meeting and subsequent exploration of Mr. Rogers and his ideals. That's been done in some books.  What the movie does is something cool -- it demonstrates how Wagner's talent (and the talent of his brother) -- talents that could be seen as incongruent with Rogers's message (using short clips and brief encounters to get across the message of slowing it down and being present) -- have a place. Each of us have talents that have a place.

In both writing and literature analysis classes we talk about how brilliant it is when the craft reflects the content.  So here is a movie that talks about a man, a teacher, who says: you are important and I like you just the way you are.  And then the movie itself shows not how the director started wearing cardigans and speaking v-e-r-y slowly, but how he used what he had to offer and built something good.  What he built is a depository for all these profound Mr. Rogers nuggets that a worn out and weepy stay-at-home home-schooling mom can watch in just over an hour, and ultimately feel like tomorrow is going to be a better brand new day.  And while there are things that I can/should improve, what I fundamentally have to offer is fundamentally good.

Just as important, I was reminded that my kids are valuable just the way they are.  Even if they don't know their place values.  Actually, because right now they don't give a rip about flipping place values. 

Apparently Mr. Rogers wanted to share with people the importance of finding and appreciating the deep and the simple in a world that is increasingly shallow and complex. I've committed to help with his mission. The next time somebody asks me what our "curriculum" is, I am going to say: "We are learning how to contribute something deep and simple in a world that is shallow and complex." When pushed for specifics, I will say that we are starting with gratitude.  If I am grateful that my spawn can see the numbers I'm writing, hear the questions I'm repeatedly asking, and smile at me even if they are frustrated, how much better are the lessons going to go?  

And so, if you're reading this: thank you for doing so.  Thank you for supporting me -- with the scheme, with the blog, with trying to be a better human.  It's a good feeling to know you're out there.  

Again With Topol

The Fordham University campus by Lincoln Center is smothered in scaffolding and shadowed by cranes, but the statue of Moses is still upstanding in the midst of all the chaos.  A gift that is: "Dedicated to and in honor of the Catholics who helped Jews in the Holocaust."   

The public school children are out of school today and tomorrow for Rosh Hashanah.  This is a reason for living in NYC -- not for the extra days off for the Jewish holidays -- but because there are days off for the Jewish holidays.  I'm glad that something that is sacred for many is acknowledged.  For us, it provides an entry point... Having days off in the fall elicits questions -- like the crosses drawn on foreheads did a few Ash Wednesday's ago...  I always feel a surge of respect for the Catholics who continue with their day knowing that the ashes pull people's eyes onto their faces and instantly broadcasts some of their most personal beliefs.  And now I have a reciprocal surge when my children, unlike many adult tourists, don't even bat an eyelash when once a year we pass many besmudged foreheads. 

The Dad went to school in Jerusalem for five months, and Great Neck, Long Island for four years, so he has been exposed to, learned a bit, and is very respectful of Judaism.  It's much too broad of a sweep to say that those two things -- knowledge and respect -- always go hand in hand (I can think of a good many things that did NOT improve, or gain my respect upon further inspection), but... but often they do.  

My background is different.  About ten years ago my mother, while doing genealogy, discovered that her father's grandpa had come from Germany and was Jewish.  A distant relative told her that he wasn't sure how or when or why the family stopped practicing (to the point of nobody in current generations even knowing they were Jewish?).  He just remembers that there had always been Hebrew newspapers strewn about the house and Yiddish spoken frequently. This concept of tradition and even identity being broken touched my mom. She wanted to acknowledge something that was important to her ancestors and so set out to do so (note: for those who don't know her, my best sum-up is a third aunt from Arsenic and Old Lace).  That year, my husband and I were gifted some chocolate coins and invited over on the first night of Hanukkah to see the newly purchased Menorah and watch as she, while referring often to her scrawled notes, lit her first candle.  It was all very sweet.  She served pork chops for dinner.  

Considering how many good friends we have that are Jewish, I at least want my kids to know that you don't give a gift card to Virgina Country Hams for a bah mitzvah gift.  The kids have such an opportunity here to do what my mom hoped -- learn and show respect for the Jewish traditions.  In the past we've watched Fiddler on the Roof, we've ordered the Seder plate from Fresh Direct for Passover, we've dradled, we've gone to look at the Sukkot huts, and we've dunked apples in honey after reading a children's book on Rash Hashanah.  (There are a lot of Jewish holidays.)  My husband always shares what he learned and we've subsidized with some Wikipedia wisdom.    

In the home schooling "plan" that I had to fill out and return there's a section labeled "Citizenship."   Since being a good citizen means fulfilling responsibilities, and it is a responsibility to understand and in so doing support, and if necessary defend other good citizens, it made sense to me that we should step up our game a bit this year and build on the apples and honey snack.  

I asked some families that we know what they do for the High Holidays, knowing that having friends' faces to associate with information would make it more meaningful for us.  I really appreciate the responses that I received.  One family asks the children to consider three things that they could have done better this past year, and three ways that they can treat people better in the coming year.  Another shared with me some of the things that her daughter is learning at Hebrew school, and that led me on a path to find out more about Hebrew school... I am impressed that these young children spend time during the week focusing on self-improvement and charity towards others.  Having had my ankles bashed in by scooters (and then both -- the ankle-bashers and the moms -- look at me as they pass as if I'm the jerk for being in the way, and just DARING me with their pursed eyes to say something), and having heard teenagers say the crudest things on the bus without any concept whatsoever of how that might be offensive to other passengers, I am inspired to learn that there are a lot of children out there consistently being reminded that striving to be better -- rather than feeling entitled -- is healthy for the soul.   

On Monday nights Mormons have something called FHE (it's short for Family Home Evening, which is clearly a super-dorky name).  We are encouraged to not schedule anything else on Mondays (or whatever day of the week the family chooses), so that it's clear that among all the other important things that go on in life, being with the family is something we value.  We go over family business (schedules, reminders, etc.), say a prayer, sing a song (100% painful in our household), have a lesson, eat a snack, and do some sort of activity (often a board game, or a totally random game that is super hard to follow if one of the kids makes it up and changes the rules as we go along).  Tonight I used the following as the foundation for the lesson from this website:

We celebrate Rosh Hashanah with sweet foods, like apples dipped in honey and honey cake, as a wish for a sweet year. Some families also celebrate with symbolic foods like the head of a fish, pomegranates, and carrots.

The head of a fish is so that we can be "like the head and not like the tail." This is a symbol of having a year in which we are on top and not the bottom...

We also eat carrots, and it isn't just to see better in the dark. For Ashkenazi Jews, carrots symbolize the Yiddish word "merren" which also means more. We want more of all the good things in life. More health, more happiness, more success. For Sephardic Jews, carrots are symbolic of the phrase "Yikaretu oyveychem" which means may your enemies be cut down. We ask that those who wish bad for us not get their wish, that they don't succeed.

Rosh Hashanah starts on the first day of Tishrei and lasts two days. Rosh Hashanah is the beginning of the Yamim Noraim, the ten days of atonement.

On Rosh Hashanah, all mankind is judged. HaShem writes the judgment for each of us in the Book of Life. This judgment is based on our lives of the year before, and is the decision of what will happen to us in the coming year.

But the judgment is not final. The days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur give us a time to change the judgment for good. We are given the chance to improve our coming year through Teshuvah (asking forgiveness), Tefillah (prayer), and Tzedakah (charity).

On Rosh Hashanah we wish each other "L'Shanah Tovah Tikatevuh" may you be written in for a good year. But Rosh HaShanah is not the end of the judgment, it is only on Yom Kippur that our judgment is made final.

For our song we skipped the hymn and listened to an old family favorite, Fish Heads.  Perhaps not particularly reverent, but I can say that that song FINALLY has been given a purpose (other than being awesome).  Nothing says, "We are on top!" like the lyrics, "I took a fish head out to see a mooovie / didn't have to pay to get it in."

On a more serious note, we chatted about how similar all of these Rosh Hashanah ideas are to things that we believe.  We nibbled on apples and honey and carrots.  We all wrote down things that we want to do better -- I told the kids that their thoughts on this could be private and they could even write in code... which they both did.  Seriously?  

We concluded the evening by cruising around YouTube and finding videos that had to do with Rosh Hashanah.  The quantity (and for that matter quality) of Jewish entertainment has made me appreciate Dr. Pearl in Waiting for Guffman even more -- something I never thought possible (if you haven't seen that movie -- do yourself a favor).  There was a fun Bollywood-esque video, and some thoughtful ones, and some pretty ones... The "Best Of" in our opinion that required two viewings was Soul Bigger.  And here was a special surprise -- a guy that goes to our church, was in fact a nursery leader with me a year or so ago, donned a yamaka and is one of the dancers in the video.  My kids were like: "What's Brother _____ doing?"  

I almost said the bald truth, "Building a resume."  Instead I opted for a more subtle truth, "Learning about Rosh Hashanah... by dancing."  

May you be written in for a good year.