Whole World Baby

Being the “old mom” of the three of us, I watch my partners struggle with many of the decisions I too had when I was a new mom with my first child. I watch and listen and secretly smile inside, knowing they will make the best choices they can, regardless of any advice I might slip out.

It’s so hard sometimes to just listen. I so much want to share with them what decision I would make and all the reasons etc. Then however I remember, just as I watch new moms hover over their first new baby wanting to protect them from every tiny pain they might encounter, pricking their finger on a rose, falling from a single step or preventing them from a bump if they trip, all these little “mistakes” are really just natural lessons.

Pain is a lesson in all its degrees, it’s not bad, it is simply a lesson of what doesn’t work. We can, at times overprotect too much so our children learn the lesson in some other way, we may also be teaching them not to trust your warnings if the consequence doesn’t happen. Through this lesson of wanting to be the “knowing experienced mom”, I suddenly realized that what I was judging as the “awful critics in my head”, shaming and criticizing me, causing me deep pain at times, really was the same voice.  I was once told that within the sadness lies the answer. Through the compassion for our critic and the understanding of the underlining message it speaks, we grow.

I’m not suggesting you allow your child to fall down a set of stairs, or allow them to put their hand in fire, nor am I suggesting we allow our critics to overwork us into paralyzing depression. It seems to be all a careful balance. Whether we are one or fifty, we all learn from mistakes, our sadness and confusions. So as I watch, I remind myself, my partners aren’t going to harm their babies with any decision they make about whether they choose to eat organic or not, whether they breastfeed for a year or two or even harder decisions like whether to vaccinate or watch your baby suffer through childhood diseases.

All our lessons, be it thru pain or joy, create our diverse and beautiful selves, and I smile with a reminder, we are all doing the best we can.

It is finally nearing midnight on International Peace Day 2009. Another year passes and still 2,500,000 people of Darfur are displaced as the effects of a genocide that has claimed 400,000 lives ripples out. I have been on a 1000 calorie fast in honor of this day and the heroic struggle of all those in the refugee camps. Countless others have been on a much longer and much more difficult fast as they take a stand for those effected by genocide. I am still nursing and tried to do a water fast only all day but found myself faint and agitated.

These are not good adjectives for the mother of a toddler. It was one day AND I had a choice. I remembered all the beautiful mothers and children I’d met in the refugee camps three years ago who still have no choice about their caloric intake. I felt grateful and ashamed all at once. I salute all those at Stop Genocide Now who carry an enormous work load on a daily basis year after year for no compensation other than the knowing it is the right thing to do. I salute them because they keep the torch of hope burning for our friends in Darfur when others of us falter because we can’t seem to juggle life, work and family while staying as active as we once were. I salute them because they remind us that it is One World which is in all our hands and that we can still do something even if it’s not as much as we think we should.

I have spent the better part of this year, the last four really writing and producing a documentary about peace and nonviolence.  We have a committed team of volunteers dedicated to creating lasting change in the world.

Our mission is to redefine what peace means in today’s world. Where peace once stood for the absence of conflict we are suggesting it really means the presence of the tools to deal with conflict. Conflict is a part of life and we need to teach our children that simple truth. It’s time we stop fearing, loathing and hiding from conflict and instead learn to deal with it in constructive ways .

Change is Gonna Come

I wish they called this day International Nonviolent Conflict Resolution Day; it feels much more possible. Click Here to view the trailer for Change Is Gonna Come directed by Tasha Oldham.

I was thinking about headscarves this morning as I read some blogs about Whole World Baby. It seems that they have so often been a symbol of division. They have seemed to identify us as different from each other. We see someone in a headscarf and think, “Oh, she’s Indian, Jewish, Muslim, Mormon, Russian Orthodox, Hindu, Eastern European, African, a fashion model or even perhaps bravely battling cancer.” How has this simple fashion accessory come to tear us apart as we reduce the wearer to a mere label?

Scarves have been worn by Christian women in Medieval times, sports fans all the time and on the Prairies of America at one time. They have been part of traditional Armenian, Norwegian and Chinese fashion. They’ve been banned, fought over and forced on some women. They have done equal time in the fields and on the runways. They’ve been a sign of pride, respect, social distinction, culture, religious beliefs and even ridicule.

Isn’t it time that we decide to use this simple accessory as a sign of our togetherness rather than our separateness. To honor all traditions and remember that at some point all of our ancestors wore some sort of headscarf. Shouldn’t it allow us to start conversations about our unique histories rather than stop conversations in our modern world? If this little piece of fabric is going to have so much power, shouldn’t it be to bring us together?

These are the questions we asked ourselves as we created Whole World Baby and our intention has always been to be a part of the answer.

My daughter Ava, 21 months is joyfully shouting “Toy!” at the top of her little but powerful lungs on a rainy Thursday morning in South Jersey. I am still waking up but am on a second cup of decaf coffee and wistfully remembering my own youth in this old shore house when I was the one demanding round 200 of Candy Land. The “toy” she is referring to is my hand me down 1967 Fisher Price Family Farm filled with cows, sheep, horses and an odd lot of about 10 mini people each with exactly the same face but decidedly different hair or hats. I can’t help but notice that all the mini people are clearly Caucasian and wonder to myself if my beautiful little girl who is half Latina will notice that. Part of me is thrilled that it probably wouldn’t even occur to her and the other part saddened that back in 1967 there weren’t any options. That lack of options and what always felt like a terribly unjust world led me to the forefront of many “causes” before I ever dreamed of being a mother.

Once I got to college in the big city in the late 80’s I was shocked to see the streets lined with bodies; old, young, male, female and even whole families. I could not fathom how all of these people could be “homeless”, a term I’d only just learned upon my arrival in Philadelphia. One chance meeting with a group of people who were homeless after being locked out of my college apartment and an activist was born. Within months studies took a backseat to my endeavors to understand and eradicate this injustice. I wrote letters, performed plays, marched in protests and collected blankets for my new friends. All of this was almost inconceivable to most of my family and friends back home who were raised with a blue collar work ethic and set of circumstances that prevented them from understanding how this terrible misfortune could befall so many. Needless to say it was a time of tremendous growth and difficulty. Candy Land and summers “down the shore” began to feel like a distant dream as I woke up to the realities of the world. I’d held homeless newborns in my arms on dirty street corners for homeless mothers trying to make the impossible decision to turn their babies over to social services. The look in their eyes said they knew this was no place for a child. I started to wonder if I could ever bring a life into this brutal world.

Twenty years later and I find myself on Sudanese soil holding a newborn Darfur refugee in my arms. She has only ever known life here and half of her family has been brutally murdered and displaced by a genocidal government. Half way around the world and I see a familiar look in this mother’s eyes; hopelessness. There are thousands of children in every camp I visit and thousands more still making the long dangerous trek to relative safety. I am in my late 30’s and again wondering how I could ever bring life into a world so cold. I wonder how this all began, the brutality and disregard for human life. Although we said, “Never Again” the world still sits by and watches. Perhaps we dehumanize each other with all of our labeling and judgment. Every time we say “those people over there are always fighting” we take a stand for separatism and judgment instead of empathy for our fellow man and solutions for our problems.

 We conceived my daughter the day I returned from the refugee camps. I believe that her father and I were taking a stand for humanity, love and new beginnings that day. She arrived in a home birth after 32 hours and took our world by storm. She renewed my faith in humanity. With that renewal, came a call to conscious parenting and regrettably much of my “activism” was put on hold as I learned how to be truly present for my daughter. I struggled to put the Blackberry down and surrender to this new life. Somewhere in the back of my head or deep in my heart Walt Whitman’s words kept echoing” Produce great persons and the rest follows.” 

So this rainy morning in South Jersey when my daughter asks for her toys for the 100^th time I tell her,” Go get mama the Family Farm and we’ll play.” I tell myself that I am teaching her to participate in life and not expect everything to be done for her but truth be told I am partially being lazy. That laziness is followed by a wave of guilt for all the people and causes that I have left behind to play with The Fisher Price Family Farm. Just then, Ava toddles in proudly with her toy and says,” Here, Mama!” I open my mouth to say “Good Girl!” but something catches my tongue. I hear Whitman’s ghost whisper in my ear and am reminded that is not my job to judge, label or evaluate my daughter’s person. If she is decreed a good girl then she will surmise she also has the potential to be a bad girl. With two tiny words I have the power to embark her on a life long journey of self criticism or self reflection. A simple change of one word and I am doing my greatest work, “Good job!”  She is not good or bad, she simply is and to evaluate her person as opposed to her behavior is a great disservice.

With all the activism I participated in the greatest lesson I learned is that all the injustices of the world begin at home in tiny almost inconceivable ways by families doing the best they can with what they know.   Of course our children grow up and go to school and out into the community and are influenced there as well. I know it is frightening for all of us as parents or as children of parents we revered or feared that we might have been getting some things wrong for all these years. We all might however stand a better chance of a better world if every playmate, teacher or employer had a mother or father who decided to try another way. We do better when we know better and communication and empathy are as valid skills as math and science to the survival of our species; perhaps more so.  After all in this modern world we really are a global village and therefore one big family. Maybe that’s what the 1967 Fisher Price Family Farm was really meant to teach me.

-          by Stacey Martino, partner in Whole World Baby

The last 21 months, 30 if you include my pregnancy I’ve been trying to let go of who I was and figure out who I am becoming. Once an artist and activist who traveled the world doing both, I find myself in strange new territory. I have started a business with two powerful women who are equally dedicated to both motherhood and creating a world that works for everyone. This business allows us to work at home with our daughters nearby while still having a far reach out into the world. We sell darling eco friendly organic headscarves for babies with 25% donated to children’s aid organizations around the globe. What we are really selling however is a new era. We are women selling the idea that it is possible to be hands on mothers, artists, businesswomen and still leave the world a better place for our children. It sounded so simple when we began; every day since has been a joyous challenge to make that idea a reality.

My two partners, a Broadway actress and an Architect for the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department have led adventurous lives. None of us had ever started a business before and we each had our reasons to try now. Those reasons ranged from leaving a legacy for our daughters, paying our bills doing something we loved, to making a difference in the world while sharing this unique fashion accessory that had people stopping us on every street corner to admire. Our startup business was slow but our patience was endless. Diapers, nursing, runny noses and noisy children seemed to halt our every effort but there is no tenacity and reserve of energy in the world like those of a mother. There was a silent agreement between the three of us, family first, which kept us from blowing up each time we missed a deadline or forgot a conference call. It contrasted sharply with my work with women who were not mothers. Not better or worse just different. There was a softness that had long been missing in my life after years of hard driving and ambitious living to become something worthwhile.

It struck me one day in the midst of trying to juggle motherhood and business that many women had paid a high price for my chance to participate in that struggle. I thought of the women in the 1950’s and 60’s who mothered a generation day in and day out with absolutely no choice of any other life. It was their “duty” to bake pies, mend hems and serve dinners while many a life’s dream to dance, travel or run a business quietly disappeared into the night. Then I thought of the women in my mother’s generation, many of whom were single mothers in the divorce boom of the 70’s and 80’s who wanted nothing more than to be home with their babies but had to work the early shift, late shift or pull a double. I thought of the women on the forefront of the women’s lib movement who fought the hard and won the battle so my partners and I could make the choices we were making today.  One generation had to sacrifice their dreams of a life outside the home while the next often had to sacrifice their dreams of life within the home.

Now, every time I sit down for a Whole World Baby meeting with my babe at breast while my one partner’s babe is gleefully hanging off the banister for the 3^rd time and my other partner is juggling her full time job and phone calls from 3 teenage daughters, I smile. I smile in spite of the chaos because I recognize that I am becoming one of the women who is paving the way for our daughters choices. I am consciously parenting my daughter and serving dinners (although I have yet to bake a pie or mend a hem) and not one ounce of resentment or a sense lost dreams runs through my veins. I am creating a business from the ground up with two strong, opinionated and passionate women and loving every minute of it while still being there for my daughter’s first steps, first words and first days. There are still days when I feel lost and overwhelmed but those days are eased with the knowledge that it is possible to have both realized dreams and fulfilled daughters. On those days I feel the millions of mothers who came before me cheering me on somewhere in the distance and I feel grateful.     

Stacey Martino

Free The Children – Known as “the world’s largest network of children helping children through education,” Free The Children was founded in 1995 by a group of 12-year-olds who dreamed of changing the world. Since then, the organization has grown into a youth movement that spans the globe. Today, through the voices and actions of youth, Free The Children has built more than 500 schools in developing countries around the world, providing quality primary education to over 50,000 students every day.

Free The Children’s primary goals are to free children from poverty and exploitation, and free young people from the notion that they are powerless to affect positive change in the world. Through domestic empowerment programs and leadership training, Free The Children inspires young people to develop as socially conscious global citizens and become agents of change for their peers around the world.

WholeWorldBaby supports Free The Children by selling our unique line of organic, remnant and recycled baby head wraps called a WWooBie™. 25% of our proceeds are donated to Free The Children and eight other very select charities that support children causes all over the world.

Fashion with Compassion…. Wrap Your Head Around It!

When you purchase a WWooBie you’re making more than a Fashion Statement for your Baby. You’re showing Support for Children around the Whole World… its in your hands!

WholeWorldBaby donates 25% of our proceeds to charities that support children causes all over the world. WholeWorldBaby is able to support 9 world class charities by selling our unique line of organic, remnant and recycled baby head wraps called WWooBies. We encourage you to visit our WWooBie store to view our fashionable line of unique baby gifts for girls and boys.