Twilight

The Twilight Series by Stephanie Meyer is one of my favorites. I wasn't as impressed by the acting in the first movie or the selection of most of the characters, but I'm hopeful for the second movie as the cast will have had time to improve their mad skills. There is just something about how well written the Harry Potter screenplays are or the caliber of acting compared to Twilight. And everyone knows that the books are always better. I will still go out to see New Moon next month while my kids are at school.

Until I read Twilight, I had never read a book about vampires. That's not usually my thing. In fact, the entire series had already been published by the time I read the first one. Then I was hooked and I read all four books in less than a week.

I might have said this before, but Edward, one of the main characters, is right up there with Mr Darcy. Bella is my least favorite character, which is unfortunate when you consider how many pages we spend listening to her point of view. Edward, of course, didn't look like I imagined him, but I'm just not a huge fan of Kristen what's-her-name. There is just something about her eyes that gets to me. It's this vacant look made worse by her ever-present scowl or her smile that never reaches her eyes. Or maybe it's just that she really does seem like Bella and I'm projecting. Either way, her eyes remind me of all of the kids we saw in Port Townsend, Washington.

A few years ago, Neil and I went to visit Port Townsend for a long weekend. It's a beautiful town across the Sound from Seattle. Unsurprisingly, the entire town is huge into organic food, organic living, veganism, the raw food movement, co-ops. We loved the irony of the Starbucks, McDonald's, and Kroger being relegated to one little street corner in the city's attempt to shun big business, childhood obesity, or capitalism. We live in America, and I'm all for someone's ability to live according to the dictates of their own conscience. And then I looked closely at the youth working in the restaurants or walking down the main street on a Friday night. Their eyes were so vacant, the choices they were making demonstrated the unrest in their hearts, and I wondered if their parents spent less time worrying about their co-ops and more time with their kids, would it make a difference. And then I noticed that there was a high school football game going on that evening. Looking at the parking lot I could tell that most of the town was there, so maybe those few kids who weren't at the football game were the exception. Maybe these kids needed a "team" to belong to.

I had a professor in college, Dr Timothy Mitchell, who wrote a book that he used to teach lectures about post-traumatic stress that came from transplanting an entire culture with a subsequent loss of individual and family identity, traditions, religion, art, and societal organization. I have to give him his props as the last time I tried to summarize his ideas for a class presentation, he reminded me that they were copyrighted.

Anyway, Dr Mitchell proposed that in any choice we make there is rarely a clearly defined good or bad choice. Sometimes the choices might both be good. Other times there are two shades of bad. Instead of looking at a choice like a pro/con list, it might be more appropriate to look at it as a continuum, he tells us. For example, a young man who doesn't have a father around could face the decision to join a gang. That's obviously a bad choice, but being isolated or lonely is worse, so he chooses the gang. Or he could choose to run away as that is better than a gang and better than being alone in a crowded house.

I'm not sure whether Dr Mitchell would translate that relativity to everyone in every situation, but I don't. There is always a better way, but I will allow that it can be difficult to see the forest for the trees. That is where mentors, or caring individuals at churches, schools, or community centers come in. Their perspective provides the opportunity to introduce a way to step out of that continuum. A means of looking for the needs underlying the decisions to find an alternate route to fill those needs.

Very often that alternate route is education. In that same example of the young man, learning about what his true interests are and how to make a living pursuing those interests could provide a means to better his life. Or it could be that he needs somewhere safe to belong, so community programs attempt to fill this void. Or a strong male role model who teaches him what it means to be a man. I understand the naivete portrayed by my illustration. I understand that it is rarely so simple in the real world to make the right choice, to do the right thing.

Consider the French resistance in World War II. The Nazis were invading France, the French government helped them round up the Jews, put the parents on one train and all of the children on another train with the promise that they would reunite the families in Germany. (The thought still makes me sick.) The lives of anyone caught assisting the Jews were destroyed. And yet, there were those that sacrificed to help the Jews. There were those who joined and even led the resistance to the greatest force of evil the world to that point had ever known. What did it take for the French Resistance to succeed? The assistance of the world's superpowers and individuals who were willing to sacrifice for what was right and true.

So, how do we teach our children to value the truth, to fight valiantly for what is right? Teaching children to recognize truth and what is right. Or a discussion of what is right and wrong in the world around us. It should go without saying that this dialogue needs to happen, but what other resources do we have? Other caring adults for sure. And, finally, art.

Reading about war, looking at photographs of war, listening to music and dramatic productions about war (read: Les Miserables) can teach the reality of war, the causes of war, the consequences of war, and the impact on humanity as easily as a history book listing facts. On the other hand, one of my English professors asked the class if we could learn to love by listening to a country love song. No one wanted to appear unsophisticated by answering "yes", but he was right. Reflect on what inspires you about your favorite love song.

This is why I love the Twilight Series, four books written for and about high school juniors. Stephanie Meyer writes about themes such as virtue, free will, sacrifice, love, family, marriage and children, friendship, the eternal nature of our soul, community. Yet her "lectures" are so well-written and unobtrusive that they don't jump off the page at you. Could there be a better way, or at least a more entertaining way, to remind a fifteen year old of what you've already taught them about virtue?

My only side note is that these books are being read by little girls all over the country. Sydney has read the first two books, but hasn't seen the movie. I keep telling her that when I can rent the movie and fast forward the one scene in it, she can see it. Somehow I haven't made time for it.

The book isn't graphic and neither is the movie, but I don't want something that Sydney barely recognized in print to transform into a mental picture. I catch grief from her all the time because many of her friends, even from church, have read all four books. But the last book is about getting married, having a honeymoon, having a baby, and having lots of sex. Although Meyer somehow avoids graphic descriptions, it still is just not right for a ten year old.

Right now I'm trying to figure out how I teach her not to go behind my back to read it just to fit in with her friends. Someone she knows did that, and I know it will cross her mind eventually. I'm trying to imagine how secretly reading the book, the consequences if she gets caught, the consequences if she doesn't get caught, and not fitting in all fit on that continuum and how I can get her to step outside of that.