All Kinds of Strangers

I read an alarming Facebook post by someone in our neighborhood right before I picked up my kids from school today.  She reported that her eleven-year-old daughter was out walking their dog when she was grabbed at by a man who wanted to get her into his car.  She outran him, found her sister, and the two of them locked themselves in their house.  She's safe, the police were notified, and everyone is on the alert.

I hate this kind of story.  I hate when a small number of people commit evil random acts and it forces the rest of us to modify our innocent behavior.  It's one of those instances of life not being fair.  It's been nice to entrust the girls with walking our dog in the morning or after school, and Quinn just last week was given permission to start walking Chipper around the block alone.  He's been so proud to be doing a truly "big kid" chore by himself.  Now I have to rethink all of that and figure out if it's worth the risk.

When History is Sweet

Every year my kids' school puts on a Multi-Cultural Fair.  It's an eclectic event, often crowded, usually interesting.  Mona's old kindergarten teacher always does a display about Alaska that includes moose jerky and the chance to pan for "gold."  Many rooms put out excellent food (samples from Brazil, this particular year, come to mind as particularly yummy), and the kids contribute to all the presentations.  Quinn's room did Spain (and on the wall where the kids were quoted about what they liked learning about Spain, Quinn's line said, "Everything!").  Mona's room primarily did Mexico, but there were some splinter factions that did additional displays about China and Ireland.  This made for a strange snack table of soda bread, pot stickers, and cookies, but we got to take some chopsticks home so it all worked out.

However, the big event for us this year was in Aden's room.  Instead of working in a group each student there did his or her own display about some connection to Milwaukee and its history.  My mom's side of the family IS Milwaukee and its history.  My great-great-grandparents moved here from Germany, and my great-grandmother, Alma Borchert, was the youngest of their six children born in the city.  Aden decided to do her research and presentation about her.
 
Alma Borchert is the person who always comes to my mind first when people ask that question about "If you could meet anyone from history...."