This is day 4 of National Eating Awareness Disorders Week…as I always say, for those of us with eating disorders or with friends, colleagues, or family members with eating disorders, every day is eating disorders day and every week is eating disorders week.

This year’s theme is Everybody knows Somebody and today’s thought of the day is:

You can be comfortable in your genes!!

This just in…http://www.epcyclopedia.com/2012/02/24/health-care-professionals-call-for-close-of-habit-heroes/

UPDATE: Disney has closed the attraction as of 2/25 “until further notice.” Rumors suggest the attraction will be reworked, but at this time there is no scheduled reopening date.

When we wrote our write-up about the new Habit Heroes mini-attraction in Epcot’s Innoventions we had a feeling something wasn’t quite right in it’s message. Now health care professionals are calling for it to be closed.

“It’s so dumbfounding it’s unreal,” says Dr. Yoni Freedhoff, an assistant professor of family medicine at the University of Ottawa. “I just can’t believe somebody out there thought it was a good idea to pick up where the school bullies left off and shame kids on their vacation.

“Rebecca Scritchfield, an adjunct professor at George Washington University, said she was “disgusted” by the exhibit’s implication that weight is indicative of health, writing: “I would love to know what sickos thought this up.” Read more: Calgary Herald

Happily Ever After!!!

“When you wish upon a star makes no difference who you are…anything your heart desires will come to you.”

I grew up watching the Wonderful World of Disney.  It was a Sunday evening ritual in my family, gathering around the T.V. and singing along with Jiminy Cricket.  Most of the stories were tales of justice with the good guy winning and the bad guy being punished.  Most of the stories showed people overcoming adversity with an arsenal of little more than a good heart and an honest soul.  And most of the stories did end Happily Ever After.

Of course when I was older, I realized that not everything was so wonderful in the world of Disney.  Most of the stories had children with no mother, or an evil step-mother, or who experience the traumatic loss of a father.  On closer inspection, the characters reinforced certain negative cultural stereo types, ethnic, ageist, sexist, and of course, size-ist.

I spent most of my childhood being jealous of the itty bitty waistlines of Disney princesses and I wish that Dr. Peggy Orenstein author of the wonderful book, Cinderella Ate My Daughter, had been around back then to offer me an alternative way of thinking.  Unfortunately when it comes to wishing, I learned at a very young age that all of the star wishing in the world would NEVER bring me thinness or the attention of Ronnie W, the cute boy sitting in front of me in class.  In my world, the only aspect of Fairy Tales that ever came true was my mom dying when I was thirteen and the challenge of integrating a step-mother into my grief-stricken adolescent world.

But now Disney has crossed a line from fantasy-land into the real world, and what they are doing, I feel, demands attention and action.

In an article by Dr. Yoni Freedhoff ,   we are introduced to a new anti-childhood obesity exhibit at Disney’s Epcot Center where the villains are the bad habits that supposedly lead to childhood obesity and are anthropomorphized into animated fat people who are depicted as lazy, gluttonous, and evil.

In another article published in the Orlando Sentinel, the exhibit is described rather benignly as a collaboration between a well-known giant health insurance company and Disney in an effort to curtail childhood obesity by arming kids with healthy foods to fight junk food wars, and to dance their way to health by getting off their lead bottoms and playing Disney Dance Dance Revolution.   These interventions alone are not particularly problematic and I would be hard pressed to find anyone in the size acceptance or health at every size ® movement who would not agree that kids should engage in fun physical exercise, establish a healthy relationship with food, and eat well.  And in the spirit of full disclosure,  I have not been to the exhibit yet, (if someone would like to sponsor me to check it out as a research mission, I’d be happy to indulge you) but based on the articles I have read about Disney’s Healthy Habit Exhibit, it shamefully stigmatizes and stereotypes fat people as lazy, gluttonous, and like Ursula the fat, evil sea witch, should all be banished from the kingdom!

The Binge Eating Disorders Association (BEDA) has initiated a Call To Action to inform Disney that this exhibit is inappropriate and hurtful and that this kind of shaming and stigmatization frequently leads to eating disorders.  There are many ways you can jump on board.

• If you are a Tweeter type person:  Use Your Voice Against Stigmatization of Children #constantcontact conta.cc/wHYYz3
• If you are a Facebook type person: Go to:  fb.me/1IpTvqDqG
• If you are an email type person:  Email Disney’s Communications Dept: TWDC.Corp.Communications@disney.com
• If you are a snail mail type person:  Write Disney Corporate Headquarters: Attention: Kristin Nolt Wingard Senior VP of Public Affairs 1375 Buena Vista Drive Lake Buena Vista, Florida 32830
• If you are a blogger person, blog about it or share my blog or Dr. Yoni Freedhoff’s blog or Kelly Bliss’s blog.
• If you are a petition person, go to this link and sign the NAAFA petition:  http://www.thepetitionsite.com/1/stop-Disneys-war-on-fat-kids/

Here is the email that I sent to Disney and to the Orlando Sentinel.  Please feel free to plagiarize it and tweak it and send it as well.

 “RE:  the new Healthy Habits exhibit at the Epcott Center:  This exhibit, while I am sure has the best of intentions, unfortunately misses the mark. Not all fat kids are fat because they are lazy and living on junk food. And not all thin kids are healthy, abstain from junk food, and engage in exercise. By targeting fat as the “wicked witch” and fat kids as the gang of evil thieves from Aladdin, the message of health for everyone is eclipsed. Many of the kids I work with are fat because of medication or other genetic/chromosomal conditions, and the children I work with who have anorexia or bulimia (eating disorders) look thin, thus pass for healthy, when they may, in fact, be using laxatives and throwing up after meals. This exhibit is shaming and ineffective. If Disney wants to help kids be healthier, how about making the rides at their theme parks more physically interactive and offering less junk food at the concession stands? And please stop characterizing fat people as evil, gluttonous, and lazy, it’s inaccurate and just mean.”

Whatever you choose to do, please choose at least one thing TO do.  It matters!

What are you doing for National Eating Disorders Awareness Week?

 “I didn’t know.  I should have known, I didn’t understand.  I had no idea.”

These are phrases spoken frequently during the new documentary, Someday Melissa.  This documentary, proficiently crafted by a talented filmmaker, Jeffrey Cobelli, underscores how easy it is for loving involved families to miss the warning signs of Bulimia.  Melissa is presented as a bright, creative, and sassy girl whose self-esteem became completely hinged to her body and her quest for perfection.   Her friends, family members, and clinicians speak frankly about their Should Haves and the impact of Melissa’s death on her loved ones, is apparent.  Also apparent was the connection the audience felt with Melissa as we watched her pass through her developmental stages of latency and adolescence.  By allowing the audience to read Melissa’s journals and view the videos she made, we experienced from her point of view, the heart breaking, and I don’t use that phrase lightly, highs and lows that are  typical of the up and down course that those suffering from Eating Disorders frequently follow. By the end of the film, the audience is also grieving the loss of such a lovely, young, promising, and spirited girl.

In the discussion that followed the screening, led by Judy Avrin, Melissa’s mother, the audience commented on her much they had learned from the film.  Many voiced their understanding that early intervention is essential, while others commented on how long term treatment based on meaningful treatment goals, and NOT brief hospitalizations where inpatient stays are terminated based on lab results, is vital for recovery.  We learned that there is no quick fix for this diagnosis and the statistics of mortality rates that are presented in the film will shock most people into taking the problem of insurance companies discharging patients prematurely much more seriously.  But despite the sadness and heaviness of the material, the audience appeared to leave the theater energized and determined to tell the world how crucial it is to educate people about Eating Disorders. I know I left the theater hoping that Someday Melissa could find its way into Junior High School and High School Health Classes and PTA meetings, especially in Middle to Upper Middle Class affluent Caucasian communities, where Melissa’s story is replicated over and over and The Should Haves is an epidemic in its own right.

If you are interested in helping to spread the word about this important film, visit the Someday Melissa website and please don’t wait until someday.

National Eating Disorders Awareness Week starts on February 26^.

 “I didn’t know.  I didn’t understand.  I had no idea.”

These are phrases often spoken after the fact, looking back with 20 /20 hindsight.  These are the heart wrenching phrases, hand wringing phrases, and the verbal symptoms of a bad case of The Should Haves.

Feb 26, 2012, is the first day of National Eating Disorders Awareness Week.   For those of us struggling with an eating disorder, or treating clients with an E.D. or who have a family member or close friend/colleague with an E.D. the truth is that EVERY week is Eating Disorders Awareness Week. (E.D.A.W.).  In fact, EVERY DAY is E.D.A.D. and EVERY MINUTE is E.D.A.M.  (Not to be confused with the cheese). 

But WE are not the intended audience for NEDAW.  The purpose of declaring a week for awareness is to increase the awareness of those who may not be as intimate with the details, repercussions, and scope of this extremely debilitating disorder and to hopefully raise money along with awareness for treatment and proactive interventions.  The theme this year is, Everybody knows Somebody, which tacitly implies that we may not know that we know somebody, so let’s learn more about E.D. so we can recognize that somebody in our lives and help them.

“I had no idea. I never expected this.  You like me?”

These are phrases often spoken after receiving an Oscar from The Academy.

February 26, 2012, also happens to be the Academy Awards (A.A.) or as Bob Hope used to say,

“Welcome to the Academy Awards, or, as it’s known at my house, Pass-over.”

All self-deprecating Jewish Humor Jokes That I Totally Love aside, the irony that the Academy Awards show is being aired on the first day of NEDAW is not lost on me…the Mayor of Dr. Deah’s Hollywood.  While it may seem like old news by now, some of my readers may remember last year’s Tasty Morsels blog, Friendly Fire, which discussed Portia Di Rossi’s E. D. and the deleterious effects that the pressures of Hollywood have on an actor’s body image.

More recently, those of us who watched the Grammy Awards (G.A.) will remember the derisive comments by Karl Lagerfeld about Adele’s body even though the singer walked away with an armful of the coveted gramophone statues.  More importantly, I hope we remember her fantastic response to Lagerfeld, chastising him for focusing on something that she didn’t consider a problem, and was irrelevant in re: to her music.  It is difficult to ignore the fact that so much of the pre and post Grammy hoopla focuses more on the musician’s body (especially the women) and their fashion choices than on their talents.  Hearing performers like Adele and Kelly Clarkson reject the industry’s paradigm is a relief and hopefully other talented performers will follow suit.

Another beacon of hope that emerged during the Grammy frenzy, if you can call someone coming out as Bulimic a beacon of hope, was Lady Gaga’s announcement that she struggled with an Eating Disorder in her teenage years and continues to struggle with body image issues.  She is quoted in an article in Jezebel,

“It (the purging) made my voice bad, so I had to stop,” she said. “The acid on your vocal cords — it’s very bad.  But for those of you who don’t sing, you maybe don’t have that excuse until it’s too late. It’s very dangerous.”

“Weight is still a struggle,” she said. “Every video I’m in, every magazine cover, they stretch you. — They make you perfect. It’s not real life … I’m gonna say this about girls: The dieting wars have got to stop. Everyone just knock it off. Because at the end of the day, it’s affecting kids your age. And it’s making girls sick.”

Film Critic, Jan Wahl

Why didn’t they run that clip over and over and over on the red carpet???  And now with one week to go until the Big Cheese (no still not Edam) of award ceremonies hits our living rooms,  I urge all of you to hold on to your Jan Wahl Hats because, “It’s gonna be a bumpy ride!”  The Grammys were just an “amuse bouche” compared to the Main Course Super Size Portion of Insanity served up by the Academy Awards and the emphasis they place on form over film.  It is time to steel ourselves and get ready for the onslaught of media mania that will sadly plant seeds of discontent in many a viewer about their own body as commentators dissect each star who walks the carpet under the search lights.

But wait…let’s do a fade out…

Fade in…We find ourselves in Dr. Deah’s Hollywood.  A saner place where we can take a moment and capitalize on the perfect timing of the confluence of NEADW and The AA by introducing you to a film that fits the bill for raising the awareness of E.D.’s and satisfies the requirement of Good Cinema.

 “I didn’t know.  I didn’t understand.  I had no idea.”

These are phrases spoken frequently during the new documentary, Someday Melissa.  This documentary, proficiently crafted by a talented filmmaker, Jeffrey Cobelli, underscores how easy it is for loving involved families to miss the warning signs of Bulimia.  Melissa is presented as a bright, creative, and sassy girl whose self-esteem became completely hinged to her body and her quest for perfection.   Her friends, family members, and clinicians speak frankly about their Should Haves and the impact of Melissa’s death on those who loved her, is apparent.  Also apparent was the connection the audience felt with Melissa as we watched her pass through her developmental stages of latency and adolescence.  By allowing the audience to read Melissa’s journals and view the videos she made, we experienced from her point of view, the heart breaking, and I don’t use that phrase lightly, highs and lows that are  typical of the up and down course that those suffering from Eating Disorders frequently follow. (It is why, by the way, our theater piece Leftovers is subtitled, The Ups and Downs of a Compulsive Eater).  At the end of the film, the audience also grieved the loss of such a lovely, young, promising, and spirited girl.

In the discussion that followed the screening, it was clear that many of us were convinced that early intervention is essential, and long term treatment based on meaningful treatment goals NOT lab results is vital for recovery.  We learned that there is no quick fix for this diagnosis and the statistics of mortality rates that are presented in the film will shock most people into taking the problem of insurance companies discharging patients prematurely much more seriously.  But despite the sadness and heaviness of the material, the audience appeared to leave the theater energized and determined to tell the world how imperative it is to educate people about Eating Disorders. I know I left the theater hoping that Someday Melissa could find its way into Junior High School and High School Health Classes and PTA meetings, especially in Middle to Upper Middle Class affluent Caucasian communities, where Melissa’s story is replicated over and over and The Should Haves is an epidemic in its own right.

Similar to two other films that I have written about, Miss Representation and America the Beautiful 2, Someday Melissa also draws a direct line from the pressures of The Media and Hollywood to the onset of body dissatisfaction and subsequent Eating Disorders.  If ever there was a cause that the Academy should take under its wing, it is this one.  Can you imagine the impact if each actor who receives an Oscar this year, stepped up to the podium and said something to increase Eating Disorder Awareness?   Remember the coverage that anti-war statements received when they were voiced at the Oscars?  What if each winner admonished the media for writing headlines such as, “Academy Award Nominee Still Hasn’t Lost Her Baby Fat” or,  “Oscar winner looked frightfully thin in her Michael Kors.”

In that case the winner would be…

Everybody

Mixed Nuts 

That’s how I feel about Valentine’s Day.  Like a can of mixed nuts.  Remember those cans of Mr. Peanut Planter’s mixed nuts that would magically appear once or twice a year in the living room?  At first glance they looked like the regular dark blue can of roasted salted peanuts, easy for me to ignore, peanuts were never my “fave.”  Why I love peanut butter but can live in the same house with a can of roasted salted peanuts without any temptation for noshing on them still mystifies me.  But this can, upon closer inspection, was the bonus can of “Mixed Nuts.”  If I was lucky to get to the can before my dad, there may be some filberts left.  I LOVED the filberts.  If I got there before my sister, I could still “score” some pecans.  But the true treasures for me were the cashews.  Even rarer was finding a cashew in its entirety and not just a chip of the crescent or a split half; but the full cashew.

I believe my earliest experience in mindful eating came the first time I ate a cashew.  It was the perfect combination of salt, crunch, flavor and texture.  Sweet and salty at the same time and rich with a smoothness of oily munchy goodness.  YUM.  But mostly, the can of mixed nuts was stuffed with peanuts, and someone else always seemed to get the cashews and I was left feeling somewhat…empty…disappointed…and craving something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

Valentine’s Day over the years has meant many things to me.  Before I went to school, it was an art project that my mom and I did together, cutting out lacey doilies and scribbling over the textured paper with red waxy crayons to see what shapes came out on the white paper beneath it.  Then my mom would do the most amazing thing.  She would fold the piece of paper in half and cut the paper and when she was finished; she would reveal a heart, filled with my scribbles.  I couldn’t understand how she could cut a piece of paper and still have it come out as a full piece and not split in half.

Valentine’s Day was about miracles with my mom and it was indeed a cashew.

Later on, once in school, Valentine’s Day was about bringing valentines to every kid in your class and your teacher.  The first year I remember diligently cutting out valentine after valentine, my mom having taught me the scissor trick and bringing them into school eager to hand them out.  To my horror, everyone else had brought in Snow White or Sleeping Beauty Valentines, glittery, each in their own perfect tiny envelope; except the one for the teacher which was much larger.

My valentines were the peanuts and I left school that day feeling somewhat…empty…disappointed…and craving something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

In Junior High, while the tradition continued to bring in the mass marketed valentines, now available in super heroes, Barbie, and Charlie Brown versions, what was written on the back of the valentine was the true valentine.  Most of them were just “peanuts” signed by the person who like me had used the class list and written name after name on each card, so as not to leave any one out or hurt someone’s feelings.  But once in a while, you would get a note on the back that was different.

“To the prettiest girl in Homeroom, Love, Gary”

Wow…that was a cashew, a filbert and pecan all rolled up in one!!!

Into adulthood and Valentine’s Day became about true love, romantic love, intimate sexy hot passionate love.  And of course if that was not in your life, it became about, why am I alone? Why don’t I have a valentine?  Where is my Gary now?  If I were thinner, I’d have a Valentine, I would think to myself as I mindlessly and angrily ate a piece of heart shaped candy that was given out at the hospital where I worked.  This whole February 14^th thing is just a Hallmark Opportunity to sell cards and make money.

NUTS!!!!

When my son was three, he and I sat at the kitchen table dutifully making valentines for all of the kids in his preschool.  Surrounded by doilies and red crayons and construction paper, we scribbled and cut and pasted enough valentines for each and every kid in his group and made special bigger ones for his teachers.  I showed him how to fold a piece of paper in half and cut it so it came out in ONE piece shaped like a heart.  His eyes were wide with wonder and glee.  We used glitter and stickers and he made one extra for himself.  I smiled when I saw that.  It had never occurred to me to make a valentine for myself, but somehow it felt right.

When I dropped him off the next morning, all of the other kids were marching in with their arms full of valentines.  Some were home made some store bought, I grinned.  I left feeling somewhat…full…hopeful…and satiated…as if I had had my fill of cashews.

Whatever Valentine’s Day means to you, whether we like it or not, we will be bombarded by the media’s message that it has to do with buying the right gift, and being loved or loveable enough.  I say, it is about connection.  And the most important connection we can make is with ourselves.  That is not selfish, that is not narcissistic, and that is not arrogance.  It is healthy.  The most important valentine we can receive is the one we give ourselves, from a place of self love.  Then we can open up to the love of others and be able to love others as well.

Imagine having enough cashews to go around??

When I was 15, I studied theater at the Neighborhood Playhouse in New York City.  It wasn’t my first experience in a theater school, but it was my first in the Big City where the air was thick with the vibrations of Broadway and Off Broadway theaters.  The menu of classes was rich and ranged from movement and mime to voice and my first exposure to the world of Viola Spolin’s Theater Games and theatrical improvisation. My voice class always began with a vocal warm up of tongue twisters.

“Your voice is one of the most important instruments in your personal orchestra,” the teacher would remind us. “Not everyone is Marcel Marceau and if the audience cannot understand you, then they will walk out and the playwright deserves better!”

So there we were, a room full of 15 year old Eliza Doolittles, our mouths full of marbles or mini marshmallows, cheeks bulging and earnestly repeating meaningless phrases over and over.  The giggling was infectious as marshmallows and marbles spewed from our mouths like bb’s as we repeated, “Sushi chef sushi chef sushi chef,” or, “She makes a proper cuppa coffee in a copper coffee pot.”   But my favorite was, “Unique New York, Unique New York, Unique New York” because as a native New Yorker from Queens and later on LonGIsland I was in love with the grandeur of New York City.  And like most New Yorkers, I was indoctrinated into the cult-like belief that New York is indeed the center of the universe.

Case in point; I have lived in the Bay Area for over 30 years and my family still thinks I am just going through a phase and continues to ask, “When are you coming home?”  In some ways I still carry that “programming” with me.  Each time I go to New York it’s as if my body recalibrates and on a cellular level, I am home.  The smell of the Van Wyck Expressway, the pace of the pedestrians on the city streets, the nonchalant way I ride the subway with The New York Times folded effortlessly in thirds…

Unique New York, Unique New York, Unique New York.

I have been fortunate in my lifetime to travel fairly extensively, and I have learned that there are many amazing places in the world that shine with their own brand of uniqueness.  Until recently, one of the cities I never had a chance to visit was Chicago.  It took me over a half century but I finally made it. I was visiting my son for his 20^th birthday.  Zak is there for a two month internship, a component of his college program, at a fabulous music venue called The Society for the Preservation of Arts and Culture of Evanston, aka, S.P.A.C.E.  Not only was it the first time I had ever been to Chicago, but it was the first time in my “mommy” role that I had ever been someplace that my son knew more than I did.  From the moment I arrived he took on the role of tour guide with great relish (which we will get to later) and showed me around his “new hood.”

I don’t know whether it was my aforementioned “New York centricity” or just my previous paucity of exposure to anything about Chicago, but my expectations were surpassed on every level.  What a vibrant city!  The lake, the view from Sears, (now Willis) Tower, the music scene (and not just the place Zak is working at) were all delightful.  We visited the Field Museum and the Museum of Science and Industry, which were superior, in my opinion, to many of the renowned museums I’ve been to in D.C., Paris, London, and yes…even New York!

Then there was the food.  Wow, I have never seen a town that took its pizza so seriously.  Gino’s  has a deep dish sausage pizza and because they put a sausage patty, which is the exact circumference of the pizza, on top of the dough and then cover it with sauce and cheese, you are guaranteed to get a bite of sausage in EVERY mouthful.

And don’t get me started on the hot dogs. (I told you we would get back to the relish.)  Having grown up in the land of Sabrett’s and Nathan’s carts on the corners of NYC I never expected to be impressed by a hot dog in Chicago!  But they have elevated the dog experience to a whole….nudder….level!

Another highlight was the famous, Second City Comedy Club.    It was like visiting Mecca.  Meaningful for me because founded in 1959, the Second City is where Violin Spolin originated the theater games I have used in my careers as an actress and expressive arts therapist; and super cool for my son because this is where many of his favorite comedians (Dan Akroyd, John Belushi, Eugene Levy, Katherine O’Hara and Martin Short) got their start.

But something else struck me as we traipsed around the city.  Most of the people we saw in the museums, restaurants, and shops were bigger and body shapes and sizes more diverse than those in N.Y.C. More people looked like me than didn’t.  It reminded me of when I was in Ireland surrounded by redheads and I felt an unfamiliar but delicious sense of belonging and acceptance. Funny thing about being unique; it can be a good thing, but if you are unique in a way that society doesn’t appreciate or accept, you can become a target for bullying and teasing and left feeling like an outcast or outsider.  So as the days passed in Chicago, I found that a part of me really relaxed in a milieu that I experienced as less competitive and more accepting of my size and shape.  Of course I don’t know what the internal processes or self esteems of the individuals may have been, but the visible evidence of  fat, fashionable, casually comfortable Chic-cagoans really added to my positive experience of The(ir) City.

The challenge, of course, is to carry that sense of comfort and self appreciation with you when you leave a place where you feel you belong and continue to generate self-acceptance from the inside.  It takes practice and determination but the benefits of cultivating love, respect, and appreciation for our individual qualities and uniqueness without relying on other people’s opinions and attitudes are enormous!

With Valentine’s Day close at hand, feeling lovable is on the radar for many of us who frequently feel unloved because of our body shape, size, or body image.  But we don’t have to live in Cheek-cago to remember that it is up to us to define what is lovable about ourselves and NOT measure our self-worth by how many valentines we receive or what other people think about our bodies.

The most important, intimate valentine any of us can receive is the one we give ourselves.

Today is Groundhog Day.  Before 1993,  Groundhog Day was all about whether the infamous groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil, was going to pop out of his burrow and see his shadow or not.  If he saw his shadow, he would retreat underground and winter would last for another six weeks.  Personally, if I was Punxsutawney Phil, and I popped up out of my burrow and saw throngs of strange people standing around staring at me I’d pop back underground in a flash! Thinking back, I can’t remember a single time that Phil did NOT pop back into his hole and winter was predicted to end early, and living in New York, it sure never felt like it did!

But then, in 1993, the movie Groundhog Day came out and similar to the old Hitchcock flick, Gaslight, the phrase Groundhog Day took on a new meaning.  If you are not familiar with the Bill Murray film, he is thrust into a reality where he keeps re-living Groundhog Day over and over and over.  Each morning he wakes up and it is the same day.  Each day he knows what is going to happen and eventually begins using the predictability in ways that are helpful to others.  He transforms into a more aware and less self-centered person as he plays with the hand that fate has dealt him.

One of the meta messages of the film was that for all of us, in some ways, life is like Groundhog Day.  Each morning when we wake up, we have a chance to pay attention more closely to those around us and tune in to events that sometimes seem invisible to us because we are busy, distracted, or just unconsciously going through our daily routines. We assume that things may be the same because they look the same and we are not used to digging deeper.  In fact, I am sure that some of you may have experienced a bit of that just now when you zoomed in on the billboard of the fat kids from Georgia.

“Enough already with this Deah, we’ve read about this already…so nu?   You’ve decided to just keep writing about the same thing over and over and over?  What is this…Groundhog Day?”

Well, yes…it is!  But that’s just a coincidence.  The reason I am writing about the billboards again is because there is an amazing event taking place TODAY!                     PLEASE READ ON!

If you haven’t heard about it yet, Children’s Hospital in Georgia is running an anti-obesity campaign that uses billboards of fat kids.  In my last blog I wrote about the  controversy surrounding these ads and the growing popular opinion that these billboards are more destructive than helpful.  Whether or not you feel that there is an obesity problem among children, the question being asked by many is whether a shaming campaign is a reasonable solution?

Today there is a powerful action taking place to put a billboard opposite one of the Strong 4 Life’s billboards that challenges their use of shame as a healthful intervention when it also gives a message to bullies that it’s o.k. to shame fat kids.

Ragen Chastain has teamed up with several people and has ignited a campaign today to raise money to buy that billboard in Georgia.    She writes about it brilliantly in her blog  (Ragen Chastain’s blog post)  and offers the opportunity to donate anywhere from 1 -100 dollars.  The goal is to get 1000 people to donate, in order to trigger Jay Solomon’s More of Me to Love matching fund of $5,000!

THIS IS AN OPPORTUNITY TO TAKE A STAND AND BE A PART OF SOMETHING REALLY MEANINGFUL FOR AS LITTLE AS ONE DOLLAR!!!

Look, I wouldn’t be asking if this wasn’t really important.  I NEVER use this blog for raising money, I have no advertisers, and barely plug my own book on this blog (www.leftoverstogo.com).  So if I’m breaking one of my blog tenets to do this, trust me, it’s a big deal.

In Dr. Deah’s Hollywood, The Georgia Billboards, LapBand Billboards and Bypass Billboards would all disappear.  But for now, I will settle for one billboard in Georgia STANDING up for the rights of the kids.  Won’t you join me?  DONATE NOW BY CLICKING HERE

And if you haven’t heard the song  STAND!! by Sly and the Family Stone for a while, after you have made your donation, go to You Tube and check it out.  It’s inspiring!