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Milena left her husband seven years ago after enduring years of physical and emotional violence. She could not take the abuse any longer or the way the rest of her family ignored it and remained silent. Milena lives in Armenia, but her story is universal—as relevant in New York City as it is in a remote village in Zambia.
I went to a dinner party at a friend’s home last weekend, and met her five-year-old daughter for the first time. Little Maya was all curly brown hair, doe-like dark eyes, and adorable in her shiny pink nightgown. I wanted to squeal, “Maya, you’re so cute! Look at you! Turn around and model that pretty ruffled gown, you gorgeous thing!”
Photo credit: snapshot from Think on Vimeo When one of my fellow Parentables contributors suggested we write about a new book exposing "how women in America are less knowledgeable about current events and our own government than they are about celebrity details," many attempts to steer my daughter away from the rumor rags towards magazines with more coverage of current political and cultural events encouraged me to take the topic. Is it possible there is a book that can help moms everywhere win this crucial adolescent skirmish? I often wonder if it was hard for my two girls growing up with a chemist mom, all logic and no make-up. But Lisa Bloom's amusing anecdotes about her childhood relegate my mothering to the category of cake-walk. Lisa's world view was shaped by her mother, the high-profile feminist attorney Gloria Allred, and her alternative father -- parents who taught her to question even such apparent no-brainers as whether the Dalai Lama or giving to charity are " good ".
Step into any bar or party and it won't take you long to spot her. She's the woman with the ringing laugh, the daring clothes, the magnetic appeal that has drawn a circle of admirers around her. If the room were a solar system, she would be the sun—and at the outer reaches, you notice, are several other women seated quietly in her shadow.
Part One: The Feral Child PLANT CITY — The family had lived in the rundown rental house for almost three years when someone first saw a child's face in the window. A little girl, pale, with dark eyes, lifted a dirty blanket above the broken glass and peered out, one neighbor remembered.