Not-really-hidden Treasures

Tonight was a good night in Waycross. At least for the other 10 people that seemed to know that. Lamar and I went to an African-American Art exhibit at the Okefenokee Heritage Center. Quite a cultural treat, wouldn’t you think? A local artist, Houston Cooper, had his works on display, amazing talent that I had not previously been aware of. There was another group by an artist known in the days of the Harlem Renaissance, Elton Fax, from the collection of a local woman. His work included an introduction by the actress Ruby Dee. Total attendance? Approximately 5, primarily staunch supporters of the OHC.

Following that, we went to have a lovely Valentine’s Day dinner at Plant Café. Scott Wilson, a local musician was in fine form playing and singing a selection of popular songs. The food is great, as well as the service and friendship of Steve and Marla Howell and the best (and nicest) waitress in the Southeast, Leigh Keller. A lot of empty tables there, folks.

I know people love Olive Garden, Red Lobster, Ruby Tuesdays and Applebee’s. But you can find that exact same menu and ambience pretty much anywhere in the country. But Plant Café is one of a kind--and it’s ours--and only found in Waycross, Georgia, your very own hometown. We also have K.D.s Café and The Downtown Sandwich Shop. People flock to see the latest zombie/vampire/teen romance movie, lining up and spending $20 a person for the privilege (and the high-priced popcorn) . That’s all okay too--but Waycross has TWO home grown theater groups: Waycross Area Community Theater and Flying Dragon Arts Center. The Okefenokee Heritage Center is also our heritage, honoring local artists and the history of our own little piece of the world. Strange that I appreciate this, and I’m “not from around here”. We also have a few small boutiques that have an great selection of clothes and accessories not found in malls: “Wild Souls”, La Mystique Boutique” and “Repeat Boutique” are a few of the gems I have found. *

I’ve heard people complain that there’s nothing to do here, nowhere to shop, nowhere good to eat. Local people look forward to a day in Jacksonville or Savannah. They drive 2 hours to wander through overpriced malls, eat at the chain restaurants we don’t have in Waycross, leaving their hard earned money to support another city that will build more malls and be home to more chain restaurants. Then they come home to the town that is hurting for business, jobs and new development.

I’m frustrated because it seems so logical to me. If you support the local businesses and cultural organizations, they will grow. If they grow, our town and our communities will also grow. Win-win, right? Right.

*I am NOT getting paid to advertise any of these businesses mentioned.

Cracks and Boo-Boos

The front page of our newspaper prominently featured a picture of a toddler with high styled hair, lots of makeup and a seductive expression. Some new information on the Jon Benet murder? Nope. A story on a local little beauty queen who has already achieved her life dream: appearing on the well known reality show “Toddlers and Tiaras”. That, and “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo” have been mocked and severely criticized, but yet seem to hold a strange fascination for a wide variety of viewers (The sad story of Jon Benet with all the hype following it has done nothing but increase the allure for parents all over the USA).

Coincidentally, on the same day I encountered a 4-year old girl who was noticeably wearing a bra. I’m obviously out of the loop, since I didn’t know such things were even manufactured. The obvious question is “Why? For God’s sake, WHY??”. Obvious to me, anyway. The answer is “because she wants to”. I was a child, my daughter was a child, yet somehow a bra was never on our Christmas or birthday list.

A new paper published in the Journal of the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry by University of Arizona Professor Martina M. Cartwright, notes that children can’t enter pageants without their parents’ blessing. Certainly that idea never occurs to a 6-month old. Professor Cartwright calls the phenomenon “princess by proxy”; parents gain social status, self-esteem---and money. Beauty pageants are a $5 billion industry. She refers to “pageant crack” when parents give their children caffeinated and “high energy” beverages along with sugary treats to keep them awake (“Honey Boo Boo drinks ’go-go’ juice--a mixture of Mountain Dew and Red Bull). Young children are denied naps and a regular meal schedule. Parents of toddlers know what the end result of that is, yet pageant parents weather to tantrums and push relentlessly ahead.

Eating disorders are almost commonplace with girls and the age is getting younger all the time. Parents put their children on crash diets so they can fit into their pageant clothes. That’s not something you can turn off with a button. It’s hard to understand why a society that looks at child molesters as monsters and demons would want to sexualize their young children and teach them to vamp their way across a stage.

Pageant parents will tell you the children “love it” and beg to dress up and win trophies. Really? They will tell you competition is good and the girls learn to be poised and graceful. It doesn’t take much time to see what those parents are admiring in their children when you watch them before, during and after a pageant. While their behavior is similar to rabid fans at a wrestling match, what they are screaming at their children is how to prance, smile, wink, and for god’s sake, don’t get dirty! Honestly, I don’t really want to get catty here, but have you looked at these mothers? Their dreams of their own poise and seductiveness, if there ever were any, are long gone. Look at “Honey Boo Boo’s” mother.

Pageant Moms are regular, even nice, people. We see them every day and they mostly do the same things the rest of us do. Those of us would never ever put their child through this usually dismiss it as a harmless activity. My beautiful, poised, socially adept adult daughter entered one beauty pageant in Kindergarten at the suggestion and direction of a relative (who was NOT her mother). I let her make that decision, which she regretted after the dress was paid for. She was the saddest pageant entrant who ever crossed a stage. She deserved the trophy they gave to little girls for just participating.

How about an anti-pageant? Now that’s something I could get behind! Little girls in their natural state of being, hair flying everywhere, mismatched clothes, and a dab or two of artfully applied dirt. The pageant would begin after a healthy lunch and be over by naptime. The winner gets a doll or a softball, as they wish. It probably wouldn’t make a reality TV show, but it would be fun!