Monthly Archives: November 2010

Five-year-old’s monster drawings sold on Etsy help pay for chemo

Posted on by
Reply

A friend and former colleague tweeted this late on Sunday night: “5 yr-old w/ leukemia is selling his drawings of monsters to pay for chemo.”

So, I went to the Etsy account, and the pictures were a scream:

"Sponge Bob and Friends," by Aidan

"Wolf Man No. 1," by Aidan

"Wolf Man No. 1," by Aidan

"Gill-man," by Aidan

"Gill-man," by Aidan

"Vampire," by Aidan

"Vampire," by Aidan

"Nosferatu," by Aidan

Aren’t those amazing? The kid is five, and you can tell he’s got a great sense of humor already. Especially when you consider the boy is fighting acute lymphoblastic leukemia.

He was diagnosed on Sept. 11. His mother was pregnant with her second child, and had been a stay-at-home mom. His father, Wylie Reed, had insurance, but the costs were going to be steep. He’d need to take time off to be with Aidan, and the chemo treatments would come with a $250 co-pay each time. The Reed family was already living on a tight budget, so the only thing they could cut next would be the house payment.

So, Wylie’s sister, Mandi Ostein, set up an Etsy account to sell her nephew’s drawings. She said she wanted to sell just 60 at $12 each. It wouldn’t be much, but it would help a little bit.

Since Sept. 17, she’s sold more than 5,000. They’ve sold so many, they’re working just to keep up with the back orders:

Due to overwhelming response, Aidan will be unable to fill special requests or sign pictures. Drawing is something Aidan does for fun and while we apologize for the inconvenience, the last thing we want to do is turn it into a “job.” Thank you again for your support.

To me, there are three heroes in this story:

  • Aidan, whose goofy nature and fighting spirit have continued despite the treatments
  • Aunt Mandi, whose desire to help saved her brother from having to sell the house and take on a second job
  • Strangers, who acted after being touched and wanted to help, whether it be by purchasing a picture or writing a letter of encouragement

Indeed, the strangers who bought the prints are key to this story being so heart-warming. Sure, we can relate to having to face tough things, but not everyone can relate to facing chemo, and probably not when we’re five. We can relate to the aunt, who wants to do something to help. But the fact that enough people bought prints — more than 400 times what Mandi wanted to sell — will mean a lot to the average reader. We see that enough people were like what we’d want to be ourselves: moved to action despite having no personal connection to the situation. So often, we think of strangers as people to fear for any number of reasons: they could be identity thieves, terrorists, sex offenders, hipsters, etc. I think we like these stories because we like getting assurance that our assumptions about strangers aren’t always true.

Of course, it doesn’t hurt that this kid is a total badass. To get a sense of Aidan’s personality, check out the video of ABC News’ John Berman’s visit to Aidan. My favorite part is around the 1:13 mark, where Berman is looking at a picture Aidan drew:

John Berman: What’s this?
Aidan: The doctor giving me a shot, and I’m really, really tough.
Berman: You’re really, really tough in this picture?
Aidan: Yeah.

Aidan: (voiceover) It’s not really fun to get shots.

After that exchange, how can you not love this kid?

Aidan’s story has been covered by The Wichita Eagle, MSNBC and The Oregonian, just to name a few news organizations.  To see the family’s blog, click here. To see the “Aid for Aidan” Facebook page, click here.

The effects of bullying, and how school could be

Posted on by
Reply

The Boston Globe today ran its fourth story in its series of occasional articles on bullying and its impact on children, adults, and institutions. In this piece, several adults recounted the torment they experienced as adolescents. For many of those adolescents, the memories are vivid even now, decades later.

…while many of those bullied as children move past it and thrive in adulthood, a surprising number say they have been unable to leave the humiliating memories behind. Their accounts are supported by a growing body of research suggesting that the bullying experience stays with many victims into young adulthood, middle age, and even retirement, shaping their decisions and hindering them in nearly every aspect of life: education and career choices; social interactions and emotional well-being; even attitudes about having children.

For example, one of the adults — Anthony Testaverde — feels his path in life could have been greatly different if not for the effects of his bullying:

Testaverde was an honor roll student who dreamed of a career in technology or engineering. But he also suffered from a spinal deformity, and said he was ostracized as a “freak’’ and “hunchback’’ throughout his high school years. He never went to college, largely because he feared being bullied again. A self-taught electrical technician, he said he might have done better for himself if it weren’t for the bullying. Deeply self-critical and preoccupied with what others think of him, he said he cannot be at ease in large groups and has found it hard to stay at one job, because even minor workplace conflicts trigger fears and the urge to flee.

“A part of my life has been robbed,’’ he said. “It’s like the show ‘Lost,’ where there are two storylines — one on the island, and one if the plane never crashed. Sometimes I think about what would have happened, if I hadn’t been as depressed, if I could have taken more risks.’’

In my experiences, many adults are remorseful for how they acted in high school, even if they weren’t bullies. I’ve seen people reach out to old classmates to apologize for perceived slights, even if the bullied student doesn’t remember the incidents. But for people like Testaverde, the damage was more severe than being made fun of for liking Marilyn Manson, Charles Bukowski and fine art. For him, the damage had life-changing effects.

By the time many of these bullies become wiser with age and maturity, the damage is done. They realize a fraction of the pain they caused, and now can’t do anything but apologize.

Another piece in Sunday’s Globe explores the effects of bullying on the teenage brain:

A new wave of research into bullying’s effects, however, is now suggesting something more than that — that in fact, bullying can leave an indelible imprint on a teen’s brain at a time when it is still growing and developing. Being ostracized by one’s peers, it seems, can throw adolescent hormones even further out of whack, lead to reduced connectivity in the brain, and even sabotage the growth of new neurons.

These neurological scars, it turns out, closely resemble those borne by children who are physically and sexually abused in early childhood. Neuroscientists now know that the human brain continues to grow and change long after the first few years of life. By revealing the internal physiological damage that bullying can do, researchers are recasting it not as merely an unfortunate rite of passage but as a serious form of childhood trauma.

I think that bears repeating: the brains of kids who are bullied in school can resemble the brains of kids who are physically and sexually abused. Chilling, eh?

Both are sobering reads, but eye-opening.

Another Sunday read shows how high school could be. In today’s Florida Times-Union, Mark Woods tells the story of Cara Stieglitz, a high school student with Down syndrome who was voted homecoming queen in a landslide. When Cara was a freshman at Fletcher High School, her parents Dave and Melanie Stieglitz prayed that God “send a friend to Cara. One friend. Someone to sit with her at lunch.”

“As a parent, that pulls at your heart,” Melanie Stieglitz said of picturing her daughter sitting alone.

So every Tuesday, she went to school and ate lunch with Cara. And on Sundays, they prayed that someone else would join her.

Of course, the story ends happily. Not just for the Stieglitz family, but for the school. Cara could have been the prime target for bullies, but she ended up being their homecoming queen. How she, her family and her classmates persevered for this to happen is a great bookend to the Globe pieces mentioned above. The story reminds us that the stories of the outcast students don’t have to end with misery and tragedy.
These stories can end with a different kind of tears: the tears of joy that a parent can experience watching his daughter with Down syndrome become homecoming queen. The tears that teachers at her school can have, knowing their students rose above the nature of bullying and became heroes. The tears of strangers reading her story, miles away in Cambridge.  Because however out of place one might feel, there’s Cara, who became an emblematic example that bullying doesn’t have to be the norm in our high schools.

Florida to Boston: The Tally

Posted on by
Reply

My dad flew to Jacksonville from St. Louis on Wednesday. On Thursday, we finished packing, loaded the truck and cleaned the apartment. Friday, we did the final inspection of the apartment with the landlord. And then, as they say, we were off and up out.

Friday: Jacksonville to Fayetteville, N.C.
Saturday: Fayetteville, N.C., to Norwalk, Conn.
Sunday: Norwalk, Conn., to Medford, Mass.

Dad and I had one companion throughout the trip: the GPS. She was dubbed “Pam” a few years ago by my nephew, who liked Pam from “The Office.” That character, though, was well-liked. Pam, the GPS, did not receive as glowing a review. Particularly on the George Washington Bridge. The AAA Trip-Tik underwent a redesign since the last time we used one, though, so we didn’t use that as much. But, we got here, and that’s the most important thing.

The important stats between Florida and Massachusetts are as follows:

Those dead deer were deer we saw, already dead, mind you. The truck was a peaceful truck, though energetic. Not unlike a Springer Spaniel, we decided.

Other noteworthy observations Dad and I made:

1 firetruck graveyard (Off I-95 in N.C.)
1 lot full of swimming pool inserts (Again, off I-95 in N.C.)
2 signs for the Pee Dee River (or creek or whatever, in S.C.)
1 frost on the windshield! (Saturday morning, in N.C.)
4 irreplaceable friends awaiting us at storage unit
Countless new adventures

In Case You Missed It: En route to Boston

Posted on by
Reply

I would have updated sooner, but I spent the last few weeks focused on jumping from task to task to task that needed to be completed before leaving Jacksonville.

That’s right. You may have read it here, or on Facebook, or Twitter, or on some graffiti-covered wall, but it’s true: I’m moving to Boston to work for The Boston Globe.

Anyone who’s talked to me in the last 7 years has heard me rave about graphic storytelling, and pontificate about some of the great graphics people in the industry. Many of those people have worked at The Globe, and in the last four years, others I’ve raved about have moved to The Globe.

And anyone who’s talked to me in the last few years has within 0.003 seconds heard me mention my friends in Boston. That stable of friends has grown, and with that, my interest in the city. Each time I’ve visited, I’ve found more things to love about it.

So, I’m looking forward to all sorts of opportunities. I’ll be freelancing on my days off. (And if you need freelancing or know of anyone who will, let me know!)

That being said, it is not easy leaving Jacksonville. I was 24 when I got here, and I’m 29 now. In the four and a half years since I’ve been here, I’ve gone through many things through which the T-U family has been there for me. In addition to the “what does it all mean” phase of the mid-to-late 20s, I’ve lost loved ones, experienced family health scares and other big life experiences that tend to scare the shit out of you the first time you experience them. Having my friends at The Times-Union to support me meant the world to me, and to my family, who knew that as long as I was with there, I was OK.

Many journalists tend to throw themselves many miles (and states) away from “home” in order to work their way up the ladder, whether it be to get back “home” or to their dream papers. In pursuit of those goals, they sacrifice family time at holidays and the type of lives that our non-journalist friends might have taken for granted. In exchange, though, we develop these close “in the trenches” bonds that remind me of old war movies where people give their lives for each other.

But, as my mother has said, “We’ll be family no matter where we brush our teeth.” And so, I don’t worry that I will see these people many times again, in Jacksonville, Boston and beyond. And, I’ve been fortunate to experience the warmth and kindness of my new co-workers. (It helps that one of my best friends will sit spitting distance from my new desk).

So, from a hotel room in Fayetteville, N.C., en route to Boston, I’m signing off. Don’t worry, though; it won’t be this long until you hear from me again.