jaimes

Ages and stages. That’s what psychologists call it, right? Ages 0-1 parents are concerned with the bare necessaties: food, mood, and sleep. Ages 2-3 we enter the world of potty training, temper tantrums, and finding that balance of independent play and protecting them from tumbling down the stairs. 4-5 is all about learning letters, numbers, and manners (burping at home is fine, burping at a restaruant is not fine, etc). Then there is daycare, preschool, and starting kindergarten and all the separation anxiety behaviors that get thrown into that mix. All milestones, each with its own set of worry that is so fierce, they may as well include a box of hair color to cover the grays along with pregnancy tests.

As you all know, I have a six year old daughter named Devon. Since she was in my belly, I have called her Devoncakes. No one else calls her this. It’s not a nickname that catches on. But it’s my name for the little girl who made me a mama. She, more than anyone, has motivated me to be a woman who is strong, independent, and confident more often than I’m not, which is pretty much the opposite of me up until parenthood.

It is because of Devon that I now smile for photos instead of cower behind a smirk. It is because of her that I try things I’m scared of like making career changes, meeting new friends in a new town, or signing up to help out at her school. It is because of her that I take care of my body, dress like I put some thought into it, and present myself in a way that does not scare the general public.

I do all of this so she can have the confidence that I did not have as a child. Books (and Oprah guest-experts) tell us that if we want our daughters to have high self-esteem, then we need to model it. If we want our daughters to feel beautiful, then we must feel beautiful. And if we want our girls to believe in themselves, then we must believe in ourselves.

So from day one of becoming a mother, I have done just that. I have worked on myself, spun my colorful childhood into a rainbow, read books, meditated, followed my gut, tried new things, learned from mistakes, taken myself seriously, laughed at myself seriously, asked myself, “what would my parents/Ghandi/Nancy Wilson do?” I have been generous with my praise and not once called out to her Fred Sandford style, “hey dummy, give me a hand in the kitchen.”

And you know what? My daughter still questions her self-worth and abilities. And lately her self-esteem is down the toilet, so pardon my pottymouth, but fuck me.

Where the hell is this coming from? I want to scream at her, “But you are so smart and funny and beautiful! How can you possibly not believe in yourself?” And then I want to scream at myself, “where did I go wrong?” And then I want to scream to no one in particular, “why didn’t someone warn me about this?” There’s a crapload of books on getting your baby to sleep through the night, but where are the books on getting your six year old to not be terrified of failure? How the hell did I miss out on that one because it’s a biggie!

She started showing signs of this in Kindergarten. She was afraid to speak up so she would skip activities that she wasn’t sure how to do. When she excelled in math, the teachers tried to get her to do some more advanced stuff, and she refused because she didn’t want to do it wrong. She’s not shy anymore but still avoids tasks that she doesn’t excel at immediately. The other day, she tried to make a paper airplane and burst into tears saying, “I can’t do anything right!”

And now she’s having nightmares that have her so scared she’s crying several times during the day thinking about them. She doesn’t want to sleep alone in her room. She doesn’t want to stay the night with her grandparents “because of my dream.” She doesn’t want to do anything without me. And she’s not being manipulative. Manipulation was when she faked a cry to get a free popscicle from the icecream man. She’s crying real tears and calling out for mama like she did when she was two years old.

We hear about the terrible twos and the teenage years, but I don’t remember anyone saying, “watch out for year six…it’s the year of thunderstorms, nightmares, and a whole new slew of separation anxities.”

So, I visited the bookstore and did what I always do when I’m lost in life: I skim through books I’m too cheap to purchase. After skipping over a thousand baby books, I found the handful on parenting children. One of the books was Po Bronson’s The NurtureShock: New Thinking About Children, or as I like to call it, Yet Another Book Expaining How We’re Parenting Wrong. The first chapter basically says that praising kids blindly (wow, that’s the best drawing of a dragon I’ve ever seen!) actually harms their self-esteem.

Great. So, telling my daughter she’s smart makes her feel stupid, and telling my son he’s so handsome makes him feel like an ogre. Freakin’ fantastic.

After reading that, I started balancing my blind praise with complimenting her efforts, as in “Wow, you’ve been practicing kicking the soccer ball. Way to go!”

And then something remarkable happened. She instantly gained the confidence of a thousand Oprah’s. Hah. Joking. Actually, what happened was while tucking her in to bed, she somehow revealed that mommy and daddy never make mistakes. Actually, no one makes mistakes because mistakes are wrong.

What? How the hell could she think this? I make about a kagillion mistakes by lunch. She should know this better than anyone.

I asked her to clarify in case I misunderstood.

“Mistakes are wrong,” she said.

And then I got it. Wrong. As in right and wrong. You did that wrong. It’s wrong to hit your brother. You’re answer is wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

She’s been associating mistakes with wrong behavior because of our motherflipping English language and double-meanings! How many years has she been thinking it’s wrong to be wrong?

So, I attempted to demonstrate the difference between wrong( behavior) and wrong (mistake) by doing what I do best, making an ass of myself. I slapped my husband and asked the kids, “Was that wrong or a mistake?”

“Wrong!” they shouted.

Then I fell off the bed. “Was that wrong or a mistake?”

“A mistake!”

And then she fell asleep in her room, where she stayed the entire night. No bad dreams. And she woke up feeling pretty good about herself.

I know it’s not the end of the discussion, and Devon’s still going to battle self-esteem issues just like the rest of us humans. The only relief I have is knowing that we have faced many other ages and stages, and like a bad dream, this too will pass. And just when we get comfortable and feel confident in our parenting again, another stage will kick us in the ass. So for now, my Devoncakes is upside down. She’s not being the confident girl that I know her to be, but I know that kid is still in there somewhere. I think she’ll come out again, and when she does her skin will be a little thicker. She won’t know it, but her soul will have a “I survived the sucky sixes” quality that will give her a little more swagger on the playground.

There is a quote by the mother of modern dance, Isadora Duncan, that for me sums up my experience as a band coach at this year’s Girls’ Rock Camp ATL:

You were once wild here. Don’t let them tame you.

It perfectly captures the rock camp experience. The girls are wild, but not in a negative way. They are bold and stubborn like wildflowers, growing wherever and however they please. Untouchable beauties that need the right environment to grow, but then are best left alone to do their own thing and be admired by the rest of us.

From day one, I realized that as a band coach, my role was not to take charge of these girls and conduct my way of playing music or writing songs. Although these girls were new to their instruments, they were not new to themselves. They knew what they liked and didn’t like and surprisingly, they always found a way to agree on their sound.

My band coaching partner, Carly, and I started the first band session with introductions and a few questions about the kind of music the girls liked.

“You know that song, Paint it Black?” asked the 11-year old guitarist. “We want to sound like that.”

The 13-year-old vocalist then chimed in, “Have you guys heard of the song, Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin?”

“No,” they answered in unison.

“What about The Beatles song, Helter Skelter?”

“I love The Beatles!” they said.

The singer continued, “All of those songs do the same thing. They go from quiet to loud.”

Carly and I exchanged happy glances. “They like the classics,” I whispered to her. And then to the girls, I said, “Ok. I think we’ve got our sound.” And then we got to work.

By the end of the first practice, the girls had written the verse. By day two, the entire song was complete. We didn’t direct the songwriting so much as point out what they were already doing.

“That drum beat right there. That’s a Led Zeppelin beat! That’s awesome. You’ve got it!”

The idea is to get the girls to make all the songwriting decisions themselves. Even if they ask our opinion, we turn it back on them. Get them to vote on it. Should the bassist play alone on the first verse? Vote on it. Should the guitar solo have reverb? Vote on it. Very few disagreements came up, and when they did, the girls worked it out themselves. And it wasn’t as if one band member made all the decisions. These girls were very vocal about what they liked and didn’t like. And they high-fived each other every step of the way.

The only things we did direct were tuning their instruments and setting up the PA and amps. But we always asked if they were happy with the sound coming out.

“Do you want your guitar to sound crunchy and gnarly or clean and pretty?”

“Are your vocals loud enough?”

“Which bass amp do you like better?”

“Is your high-hat close enough for you?”

We basically acted as roadies, cheerleaders, and mentors all rolled into one.

The girls wrote the bass line for the song first, and then we showed the guitarist where the notes were on the guitar that go along with that bass line. She then decided what chords to play and how to play them. When she wrote her guitar solo, we put little stickers on the neck to help her remember which frets to play.

And then we stepped back and watched the girls practice that song over and over again. And each time we nodded along. And each time we cheered them on. And when they got too hyper or scatterbrained, we threw up our hands in a time-out gesture and got them to refocus or hear each other out.

And it worked.

Our little band, The Lemon Lime Light, killed on stage. The drummer, who’s been playing for six months POUNDED the drums like someone twice her size. The bassist, brand-new to her instrument, jumped up and down as she played. The singer fell to her knees as she sang her 13-year-old heart out. And our mini-Nancy Wilson guitarist made the crowd of parents and fans melt as she kneeled in front of her amp and threw her head back for her solo. Are you kidding me? Imagine her a decade from now.

And that’s what I’ve been doing since rock camp ended, thinking about these girls 10-20 years from now. Will they still be playing? Will they be in touring bands? Will they put their music aside for college, work, relationships, marriage, or kids? I think about myself in the 10-16 year old range and how many obstacles got in the way of my own musical journey. And I know how hard it is to keep playing as an adult and parent to two rambunctious children.

Girls’ Rock Camp ATL offers the ideal environment to help girls tune into their creative selves, the part that is untouched by outside interferences like familial expectations and social norms. The volunteers are on the look out for insecurities, and they address them in a way that does not single anyone out. For example, if someone is making fun of someone else, the volunteers will put on a skit that addresses the issue. And just let me say that the women who run this camp are AMAZING. They’ve designed a camp that really works for both volunteers and campers that has me already looking forward to next year’s camp.

Some of these girls will only do rock camp once, but many come back year after year. My hope is that the influence of the camp and the friendships that are forged are enough to carry the girls through the teenage years and on through adulthood. I want these girls to continue making music that is pure and from the heart, and most of all, I hope that each of them keeps her soul wild and untamed.

Here is a behind-the-scenes video I put together for Girls’ Rock Camp. I captured as many of the girls as possible when I was not coaching. To see videos from the showcase at Variety Playhouse, visit the Girls’ Rock Camp ATL facebook page.

I’m working on a behind the scenes video for Girls’ Rock Camp ATL. In the meantime, this boing boing story I saw on Kathleen’s blog made me laugh.

A mall in China opened a women-only frustration chamber where the delicate sex can enter and beat the crap out of whatever is in sight. I imagine the line to get into this thing is longer than than ladies restroom line.

Maybe this idea will catch on in the U.S. I can see this evolving into one of those at-home businesses that involves house parties. It will be called something like Smash It UP! and the logo will be a 1950s housewife type holding a pink sledge hammer.

So, I’m super busy trying to parent, volunteer at Girls’ Rock Camp, and you know, shower and stuff. The girls are soundchecking today for tomorrow night’s performance. Here’s a clip of the band I’m coaching at practice.

Are you ready to rock, ATL? This is Lemon Lime Light!!!!

You do not want to miss these girls live. They’re playing at Variety Playhouse tomorrow night as part of the Girls’ Rock Camp ATL showcase.

So, this is day four of Girls’ Rock Camp ATL, and it’s going really well. The band I’m coaching, Lemon Lime Light, wrote their entire original song by day two. Now it’s just a matter of practicing until they’ve got it down. That’s a big accomplishment, especially considering two of the girls in Lemon Lime Light are brand new to their instruments and one has only been playing for six months without formal training.

Watching these girls accomplish so much – and get along at the same time- is inspiring. It’s also proof of how far people can go when they are placed in a supportive environment. This camp is not about telling girls how to rock; it’s about giving them the tools to do it themselves.

I dropped out of the music scene after I became a parent, so I wondered how much of the DIY ethic was passed down to this generation. It turns out, a lot. And now with myspace, facebook, music websites, and blogging, there are just more and more options available for musicians to be both seen and heard. Now that I’m back in the music scene with two kids in tow, I’m happy to see that DIY is not dead.

A perfect example is the the Girls’ Rock Camp ATL facebook page. Volunteers are posting clips of the girls playing daily. It’s pretty amazing. The videos are like mini-documentaries tracking the girls’ progress and preparation for showcase day at Variety Playhouse. And the beautiful thing about DIY filmmaking, promotion, zines and music is that it’s more likely to treat everyone equally, regardless of skill level, musical background, age, race, or shoesize. And it shows the truth.

And the truth is that when you get around 40 girls together and you encourage them to speak up and speak out, you hear their true voice. When you hand them an instrument that is big and loud, you hear the biggest, loudest noise your ears can stand. And when you support those girls through workshops on self-expression, self-defensive, and self-esteem, you hear the purest music that is out there in any scene. I consider myself lucky to witness it firsthand.

I thought being a band coach would be tough. I imagined the girls arguing, or name-calling, or obsessing over their looks. I could not have been more wrong. The only thing these girls have done from day one is totally rock.

Check out the CNN story on last year’s Girls’ Rock Camp ATL for a behind the scenes look at the best camp ever. Some of the girls featured are returning campers this year.

Yesterday was day one Girls’ Rock Camp, and we’re off to a great start. The band I’m coaching is called Lemon Lime Light, which I think is a super creative name. They’ve already written a first verse and all of the lyrics to their original song. Not bad for a few hours work.

In honor of Rock Camp, I’ll be posting about girl musicians all week. First up is Orianthi, an amazing guitarist out of Australia. She writes her own stuff, and she’s got mad skills on guitar. She’s played with Steve Vai, Carrie Underwood, and Carlos Santana, and she was scheduled to tour with Michael Jackson. Not bad for a 24 year old.

Here’s Orianthi playing with Steve Vai. This video makes me want to turn a fan on while I practice.

p.s. Special thanks to my good friend Mel2 for pointing this virtuoso out to me!