The 2022 Top 10 Most Read from GOTG

Here we are again; another year flew past. Mercy me. I wrote 50 articles this year on Get Off The Ground (GOTG), and I've written 843 in total since I started writing in 2007. I went from silly posts in early fatherhood to more serious pieces over the years. 

Thank you for stopping by and reading. We're all works in progress, and my wife Amy and I continue to work at being better spouses, parents, and community members. which is the whole point of what I share here -- and to be the positive spread of growth, empathy, and love. 

Speaking of stopping by and reading, here were this year's top 10 most read from GOTG:

1. Coronavirus Sucks, But We Don't Have To
2. From the Loss and the Pride 
3. The Ultimate Quits
4. Not How They Will Wind Up 
5. Never Too Old 
6. Almost Gridless 
7. Those That Just Might Reconnect 
8. The Teen Brain Two-Step 
9. Thanks to Mom (and me) 
10. Stuck in the Middle with Me

Thank you again for reading, and now it's time for a Christmas break for me and my family. No matter how you celebrate this time of the year, and whatever your holiday traditions are, blessings to you all. Be safe and well. 

"You're all I need

Underneath the tree…”

Our Biggest Cheerleaders

We cheered them on when they performed in plays and musicals. We cheered them on when they played sports. We cheered them on when they graduated from elementary school. We cheer them on every day just hearing about their days. We celebrate their wins and empathize their struggles. 

Our children's biggest cheerleaders are Mom and Dad. Always have been. Always will be. 

Our oldest Beatrice was a junior leader for summer day camp this year and we cheered her on all the way through it. She was so grateful every day she was at camp working with the kids. This was something she wanted to do all year since being a camper at last summer's day camp. Back in early May of this year, I remember the video interview she did to become a junior leader. She was stressed prior to the interview, but she was so confident and calm during it. 

Just like her younger sister Bryce was when she spoke to her 5th graduating class at the end of May. She was one of three students from her 5th grade class who volunteered to speak. She shared how disappointing it was to get covid and miss some of the fun end-of-year events, but that no matter what, she was grateful to be back in the end for graduation to be with all her friends and her teachers. And she wrote the whole thing herself. 

We cheer our children on, we parent them, we take care of them, and we love them. As their parents, we don't expect them to cheer us on, just listen to us and love us back. And of course, deal with all our unabashed supportive cheering. That gets more emotionally and socially complicated now that they're teens when we have to deal with new and improved levels of overdramatic back-talk independence. 

However, they are our biggest cheerleaders, even when they try to act like they're not. Nearly every day when we tell them we hope they have a great day school, they reciprocate about our work days. Occasionally they tell me how good I'm getting at drumming. They cheer on Mom about all her yummy baking and cooking, and everything else that Mom does, which is a lot. 

Their cheering on was especially poignant when I was sworn in as a new school board member recently. Super-cheered on actually. They all sat in front, and Bryce whooped it up on my behalf while Mom and Beatrice clapped along when we walked up to be sworn in, and then again afterwards. Everyone in the room laughed, including past teachers both girls had in grade school. It was all so sweet. I smiled and laughed, thinking that this was the greatest Christmas present of all, the unabashed supportive love of our children. 

The Ride Home

As soon as they get into the car, both girls shout, "I'm going to talk about my day first!"

"No, I'm going first!"

"No, I am!"

"Dad, who gets to go first?"

Sometimes I tell them it's whoever said it first. Other times one of them will concede and let the other go first. The other day I actually had them pick a number between 1 and 10, and whoever was the closest got to go first. Haven't done that in years.

Our daughters have always felt safe and comfortable sharing their experiences with us, something we've fostered and have been quite grateful for. But now that they're both in middle school together, 6th and 8th grade, it's become a race to tell us about their "work" days. Good, bad, or indifferent. Sometimes in mind-numbing descriptive teen detail. About lunch drama with friends, that to me didn't seem all that dramatic, but to them was. Or, classroom drama about group projects where others in the group didn't do very much of the work. Or, more classroom drama about teachers who stress them out. More of these dramas from our oldest Beatrice than her younger sister Bryce, but both of their days are shared with us, drama or not.

My wife Amy takes them to school in the mornings, and unless I'm traveling for work, I pick them up most of the time after school (if they're not riding their bikes or walking, which they're doing sometimes). I love that time with our kids, just listening to them, asking further explanatory questions. That can lead to either further clarifications, or sassy retorts, depending on the context and their mood. It's only a 10-minute ride home, but for me it feels like hours listening to my children grow up. 

The fact that our teens are comfortable talking with us is so important. They tell their mother more than they tell me, but they're still comfortable sharing with me. One of the things that's made a difference is that we listen and let them talk. That doesn't take the parenting out of the equation, because there are situations that call for parental oversight and insight, and for me, judgmental interjections. I try to not to do that, but still do. And both girls call me out on that -- "Dad, I'm not done talking, so please don't interrupt."

The loving bonds of trust are there with our daughters because we listen to them without judgment (again, Mom more than Dad) and without directly trying to solve any of their problems they may have (school, friends, etc.). We help them, of course, but we also want them to learn how to figure things out, how to help themselves, work with others, and self-advocate. 

If there are issues that involve emotional, social, or physical safety, including things that we weren't aware of because they didn't want us to be aware, then there are definitely parental interventions and controls. Hiding things from us are rare, and when it happens, we deal with them immediately.

So, after arguing who tells Dad about their day first when I pick up our girls from school, they tell me about their days, and then argue who's going to tell Mom first when they get home. It's a gift of grace that they both are willing to share their days with us, every day. That's why the ride home is a highlight of my day, every day. 

Listen and Love First

In a sea of thousands, I felt seen. Again. I listened to his story, and although I knew it was nothing like mine, in a way, it actually was. The moment he finally felt seen and heard was pivotal for him, and it reminded me of mine.

Here I was at my first school board conference with nearly 5,000 school board members from across the state preparing to be a new board member next year, something I never thought I'd be. The first keynote speaker was Brandon P. Fleming, author of MISEDUCATED: A Memoir, an at-risk youth and college dropout turned award-winning educator. 

I felt that feeling of being seen and heard again because of a very specific part of his story. He was a failing black college student whose only role models were drug dealers and athletes. An English professor took the time "see" him, to meet him where he was in his life, to lead with love and help him turn his learning and his life around. She introduced him to black writers that he never knew existed and it changed his life forever. 

Brandon went on to finish college and launch a debate residency program that recruits under-served youth with no prior debate experience who he trains to compete against hundreds of elite debaters from over 25 different countries around the world. For five consecutive years, since the program’s inception in 2017, every cohort trained by Fleming has won the international competition.

My story was nothing like his. I was a privileged white high school student who got straight A's, took all the college-level AP classes, sang in choir, played football, and participated in student government. However, the pressure to constantly excel and the ghosts of my childhood growing up in domestic violence and sexual abuse became too much for me and I began to have severe anxiety and panic attacks. 

However, I didn't know what they were at the time. I began skipping classes, my grades suffered, and no one, not even my closest friends and immediate family, understood what was happening to me. It wasn't that they didn't love or care about me, but because I couldn't express what was happening to me, most took an arms-length approach with me. Everyone felt bad for me that I was breaking down, but no one could reach me. 

It wasn't until another high school counselor reached out to me when my perspective changed. Mr. Ash wasn't my primary academic counselor, but he connected with me in a way that others didn't. I told him as best I could what I was feeling and why, and he could relate; he had experienced that kind of stress when he was my age as well. He listened to my story without judgment, and shared his own story, and recommended that I take the time to heal and figure things out, that I should check out the field of psychology (which I ended up majoring in) but that I didn't necessarily need to go to college right away, if I needed more time. He took the time to "see" me, to meet me where I was in my life, to lead with love and help me turn my learning and my life around. 

Fully turning things around after high school would still take over a decade, but I got there. As a new school board member, I listened to Brandon P. Fleming speak and tears welled in my eyes. He said "stories are the gateway to empathy" and that as school administrators, educators, support staff, board members, and parents, we should "listen and love first, and then teach and lead second." Today, too many young people need mental health services, including elementary school kids, and we can do better to ensure they are emotionally, socially, and physically safe. We should meet each child where they're at, listen and love without judgement, and strive to provide the resources and support they need to thrive.