To Smile And Laugh And Sing Along

The Facebook post was clear, something had happened to her. When someone writes "you will be missed," that is telling. The person in question was one of the beloved teachers from our girls' grade school. Beatrice didn't have her as a teacher, but she was Bryce's combined kindergarten-1st grade teacher. 

I came into the house from my office and asked my wife Amy if she heard anything about Miss Tina, as the teacher was known at school, but she hadn't. I went back out to my office, and shortly after that, Amy texted me while I was on a call: "Come in when you’re off the phone."

It was December 23, and what Amy found out was that Miss Tina had suddenly passed away from a brain aneurysm the day before, only three days before Christmas. She was married with two teenage kids, too. She was also around my wife's age, and what I didn't know about brain aneurysms was that women are more likely than men to have a brain aneurysm, and those over the age of 55 have a higher risk of brain aneurysm rupture than men. 1 in 50 people in the U.S. have an unruptured brain aneurysm.

I can't imagine this happening to Amy. I don't want to imagine it happening, not with two kids in tow. But we're both north of 50 now, and no matter how healthy we are, or think we are, anything can happen at any time. Which is why we embrace and celebrate every moment with each other and with our children. 

Our hearts go out to Miss Tina and her family. I found a picture I took in her classroom from years ago of Bryce and her class listening to songs and singing along. And there was Miss Tina in the back, thoroughly enjoying the singing, embracing and celebrating every moment with her class. That's how I remember her,  how calm and relaxed she always seemed, always Zen, and always smiling. 

I asked Bryce what she remembers the most about her teacher. She said she remembers how Miss Tina always helped kids smile and laugh, especially those who were having a bad day. 

So, blessings to you, Miss Tina. You will be missed. Thank you for reminding us to smile and laugh and sing along. 

May This Force Be With You

The first time I saw it from afar was 2018. Construction was well underway during our last trip to Disneyland at the time, just beyond Frontierland, and we could see the top of the far away galaxy to come. During the summer of 2019, we were fortunate to take our family to Disney World, but were too early to see Star Wars: Galaxy's Edge; it had opened in Anaheim but not in Orlando at that point. I remember standing in front of the gate where it would open only a few months later. Yes, we love Disneyland.

If you've read my writings over the years, you also know that I love Star Wars and that it had a profound affect on me ever since the first time I saw it in 1977. That summer I was nearly 12 years old and the world was a dark and surreal place. We were in a long and steep recession, political apathy had spiked due to Watergate, and Middle East tensions ran high. Our family also experienced domestic violence and sexual and emotional abuse during the 1970's. Thankfully we had a mother who emphasized love and empathy over fear and hate, even after everything she'd been through, and we'd been through. 

At that time, Star Wars was a hopeful escapism for me with a greater theme of a positive power that could transform the universe: The Force. At the time I had become disillusioned with many things including religion, so science fiction and fantasy became my savior of sorts. 

I've been a fan ever since. When I heard Disney was building a land dedicated to Star Wars, I was out-my-mind excited. I couldn't wait. My wife and children knew I couldn't wait. But then the COVID-19 pandemic struck, and the world again became a dark and surreal place. 

We've lived through the past two years and have remained a strong, supportive, and loving family unit. My wife and I have worked hard and have been grateful to be able to provide for our family and do some fun things along the way. One of those things was planning another trip to Disneyland at the beginning of the holiday season this year (and the fact that it was safer to do so).

I finally got to see Star Wars: Galaxy's Edge for the first time. I got to see the Millennium Falcon up close, for goodness sake, and fly it. Yes, I knew it wasn't real, trust me, no matter how much I wanted it to be, but to stand in front of it and have a picture of my family letting the "Force" flow through us all was a super-thrilling and proud moment.  

Yes, proud. Because there's a real force that's empowered our family year after year, from New Year's Day to New Year's Eve. A force nurtured from practicing Kidpower physical and emotional safety skills, positive communication and relationship skills, and clear boundary-setting skills. Of course our family doesn't get these things right all the time, which is why we work on it week after week. The key is sustaining and growing; a Christmas magic that never ends. 

Even now with our girls being a teen and tween, rolling their eyes when we want them to practice these skills, they still embody them in their daily lives whether they realize it or not. And all of this force is grounded in mindfulness, love, and empathy, without ever compromising our boundaries, wellbeing, or safety, especially when others around us do. 

So, no matter how you celebrate this holiday season, may this force be with you. 

Right Within Our Hearts

"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Soon the bells will start
And the thing that'll make 'em ring is the carol that you sing
Right within your heart..."

—Bing Crosby, It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas (written by Meredith Willson)

This time the rule was broken. The rule being, we don't do or listen to anything Christmas until the day after Thanksgiving. Like ever. No matter how tempted any of us are. However, it was still one full week before Thanksgiving and one of the radio stations we flip to in the car started playing Christmas music. 

And the one person who delighted the most in finding out this musical fact was our oldest child, Beatrice. 

"Ugh. Turn the channel," I said.

"No, leave it here! I want to listen!" Bea said.

"Please, turn it," I said to my wife, Amy, sighing audibly.

"No!" Bea protested.

Our youngest child, Bryce, was oblivious, listening to her own music in the backseat.

"Let's just leave it and listen," Amy said, smiling.

"Yes, this one's my favorite," Bea said, referring to "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas."

And so it began, the Christmas season in music. All the classics. All the contemporary covers of the classics. All the originals. Pop. Rock. Alternative. Soul. R&B. Country. All. Of. Them. 

Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't like Christmas and all the music -- I love it and all the music. Our entire family loves it all. But the rule had always been followed, going back to my childhood, until now. 

It probably didn't help that we were going to Disneyland the week of Thanksgiving, which had already been decorated for the holidays since mid-November. That trip is a story for another time, but just know that Christmas music seemed to emanate from every square inch of that happiest place on earth. 

Shortly after Thanksgiving, our happiest place on earth was driving around nearby neighborhoods to see the holiday lights that people had put out so far. Not too many yet, although there were pockets of magical lights that we slowed to soak in. Of course we were listening to one of now two local radio stations that were playing nothing but holiday music. Except Bryce, who again was in the backseat listening to her own music, although I did hear some "ooo's" and "aaah's" from her watching the lights as we drove by.

Then Bea's favorite Christmas song came on, and we sang along quietly together with Bing Crosby. She doesn't sing out loud much, which is too bad, because she has such a lovely voice like her mother's. We sang along with many Christmas songs as we drove through neighborhoods looking at lights. None of the upside-down bonkers world we've been living in mattered at that moment. None of the big milestones we track for our kids mattered either. Nothing mattered except for our shared love of Christmas magic, always right within our hearts. 

Almost Perfect

Ten minutes before the game was to start, I knew it wouldn't. That's because the team we were supposed to play wasn't there. In fact, they always showed up much earlier than us for the previous two games we played then. But this time they weren't there to play our last game of the season. The league had changed the schedule two months earlier for this last game, but obviously the other team missed it somehow.

Our team, the Flamingos, was only one of four female U12 recreation soccer teams this year (10 and 11-year-olds). Participation overall had taken a hit because of the pandemic, and there weren't any rec teams playing at all in 2020. I hadn't coached since 2018, and our youngest child Bryce hadn't played since 2019. Our oldest, Beatrice, hadn't played since 2019 either, and ended up helping me with the team until she made the 8th grade soccer team (so proud!). I've had the pleasure to coach both daughters. 

Because there were only four teams in our rec league this year, we were to play each team at least three times during the season. Yes, it's a long season, over three months worth of weekly practices and games from August through November, but definitely worth it. I'm so glad my schedule allowed me to coach again. The last game of the season was supposed to be against the best team in our small league, a team that we had played better against the second time around. 

Our team was really looking forward to the last game, and then afterwards, our end-of-year soccer pizza party. It was going to be a night game, the only one of the season for us. They had all grown so much as a team; some of the girls had played before and some had never played, and they all seemed to learn a lot over the three months. Their skills improved, their support of each other blossomed, and they just plain had fun. You can see them all aglow when they know they're playing better, while having fun. Along with Beatrice being an assistant coach, another player's father also helped out, and we all had a blast coaching the team. At the end of the season, I got a card from one of the players that said, "You're the best coach I ever had." And being the Ted Lasso of recreation soccer, I embraced that.

While we waited for the other team, it became clear that they weren't coming. Our team was super excited, bounding all over the field while they warmed up. At dusk, the field lights didn't come on, so that added to the certainly we weren't playing that night. But who doesn't love playing outside at the edge of night? The weather was pleasant and the kids needed to play, play, play! So the adults and some of the players' siblings played against the team. 

It was almost perfect. Until it wasn't. 

Only moments earlier during our fun, frenetic pre-game warm-up after a long season of positive growth, one of our players felt picked on and demeaned by some of her teammates, and then she disappeared into the dimming light of dusk along the sidelines. The team had been so supportive of each other all season, that to find out something like this happened was disappointing. I didn't witness what had happened and unfortunately found out too late to address it in the moment. 

During the season, we won a few games, lost a few, and tied a few. Until that night, I felt it was mostly a "winning" season overall with skill-building, team-building, and fun. Except in the end, we lost one of our own to one bad experience, and as the leader of the team, I felt light years away from almost perfect. But as long as the girls still want to keeping playing soccer, and I hear they all do, then it's still a win for the team. 

The Positive Spread

Our first-born loved dandelions. When she was nearly two years old she loved to pick them and run with them and blow the parachuting seeds into the wind and watch them float away. She'd giggle and do it again and again until the dandelions were all gone. 

When I think about those seeds now, and how many took root where they landed for other children to pick them and blow the seeds away, I think about both our daughters and how they've taken root and grown into positive, loving, empathic, and resilient little humans. 

Our children have become what I'll call the positive spread -- sharing freely a part of their empowered positive souls wherever they go and with whoever they meet. Something it took me decades to be comfortable with. Something I still work on every day. Something we should all work on every day.

Now a tween and a teen, both of our children have grown up with positive discipline and Kidpower. They've learned a lot about natural consequences of their actions; about being calm, confident and aware wherever they go -- to be able to set healthy boundaries and always be emotionally and physically safe while inspiring others in kind. It doesn't mean they always like it when we reference these life skills they've grown up with, but even when they push back on their influence, they embody them each and every day.

I thought I was done with writing in this space, of sharing my family's journey and my own thoughts and feelings about parenting and personal leadership, and I thanked you all for reading. 

But I'm not done. Life is a work in progress and the past two months have been a deep reflection for me of what I thought I'd let go of, but instead what I've held onto. I allowed resentment and anger to reboot inside me after decades of damaged trust with myself and others I thought I had reconciled, but instead, only shuffled around inside my always hopeful heart. 

A heart full of love and optimism ever since I had picked dandelions as a child and blew seeds of hope into the wind. 

We all deserve to be loved and to be safe, and to be given the chance to learn and practice the skills that make it all reciprocally so. This is why I'm rebooting this blog to continue the positive spread that my children and my wife embody every day. I am so grateful for them. 

Blessings to you all. 

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Thank You For Reading

"I don't regret it – I'll never forget it

I wouldn't trade tomorrow for today..."

–Rush, Headlong Flight

When I first jumped into social media in 2007, I joined Myspace. Within 30 minutes of setting up my profile, I was "propositioned." 

That was almost the end right at the beginning. I didn't stay on Myspace, but I did get convinced by old high school friends to give Facebook a try. That was December of 2007, nearly 14 years ago. That was also the year I launched this blog, Get Off The Ground, a year before our first daughter Beatrice was born. 

I had already been on the professional network LinkedIn since January 2005, connecting with others in my industry sharing work-related content. That hasn't really changed since, although unfortunately some LinkedIn users have taken a toxic turn of sharing the same toxic crap we see on Facebook and Twitter (which I had joined in May of 2008). 

Social media has been valuable for many to share positive stories and to inspire others around the world. It's helped family and friends stay in touch with photos and videos. It's also been used to market products and services across industries, as well as to promote jobs and and employer brands (the HR and recruiting space I'm in). 

It also divides and destroys. It fueled COVID-19 and vaccination information, and still does. It fueled election lies and the insurrection on January 6, and still does. It fueled racial hate, and still does. For both adults and teens, bullying also thrives on social media.

You may have watched The Social Dilemma, the documentary from early 2020 that shares the dangerous and addictive destruction that social media has unleashed.

And you may have heard about the recent Wall Street Journal investigation referring to internal Facebook research about how Instagram causes increased levels of anxiety and depression and suicidal thoughts in teenage girls.

Because our girls are practically teens now, I want to be more attentive to what I share on social channels. It's usually always positive, what I write and the pictures I share, but now it's time to close this Get Off The Ground chapter and start a new one elsewhere. I will also continue to limit my personal time on the social media, as I've been doing for weeks now, except when it's work-related, or when I'm promoting safety skills with Kidpower. 

Our daughters know that they can come to us any time they see offensive or disturbing stuff online (they play Roblox primarily and watch TikTok and YouTube shows they like). While we'll hold off as long as we can from them having their own social media accounts, we'll want them to be responsible, safe and empathetic when we do so. Just like they are now, and just like we're practicing as adults now, finally, after all these years. 

From my first post on Get Off The Ground to this last post (for now), I've enjoyed sharing my parenting and personal leadership journey with you all.  I'm certainly no expert. I'm just trying to navigate it all like you are. I wouldn't change a thing; I would never trade tomorrow for today. Thank you for reading.

Be safe and well. Blessings to you all. 

In Balanced Measure

I felt horrible that day. My asthma was killing me and it literally felt that way. The math problems in front of me blurred and shifted on the pages. Every moment felt like forever; each problem I solved felt like forever.

Somehow I made it through the day and still helped our 7th grade math team do very well in the local competition. 

I was a super shy kid in grade school and early junior high with severe allergies and asthma that continued until high school, but I still participated in organized academic and sports activities. I'm so glad I did. I have so many fond memories of these activities over the years, so many friends I made, so many things learned. Memories that continued to be made through college. The social interactions and experiences were invaluable. 

However, my wife Amy and I didn't have to grow up in a pandemic that affected every facet of our lives, and continues to do so. One that has infected over 225 million people and killed nearly 5 million globally. We had the AIDS crisis growing up, which was horrible, but it didn't effect us or our families directly (that I'm aware of). There have been different strains of flu and the H1N1 virus since, but nothing like what we're dealing with in COVID-19. 

2020 sucked. Many of us will probably agree on that one. Sheltering at home, distance learning, social distancing (or not), wearing masks (or not), hospitalizations and deaths. Limited or no extracurricular  activities for our kids. Divisive polarization in nearly every community on every issue, especially COVID-19. 

Finally vaccinations are here! Infection rates are lower! Woo-hoo! The rest of 2021 is gonna rock!

Nope. But at least our daughters are back to in-person school, and are able to participate in school and other activities with their friends. Where we live, if there's a positive covid case in one of their classrooms, then they'll have to forgo activities for 8-10 days, but at least it's not forever, like it felt in 2020. 

Nope, it won't be forever. It still sucks, but not forever. Our youngest Bryce will hopefully be vaccinated before the end of the year, and until then, she'll play soccer. I'm coaching her team and her sister Beatrice is my assistant coach -- we're the Flamingos! Bryce will also play percussion in the school band (my drumming girl!), Bea is a junior guide for an outdoor after-school program, and both are getting involved in clubs and other school activities. They love being in school again with their friends and we want to keep them there. Of course, all of this activity will be in balanced measure with family time and staying healthy and safe. Amen.

One Mindful Beat at a Time

The second time I tried, I fixed it. I didn't think I'd even try again after the first time; I didn't think I'd even try the first time. Fixing things beyond my working knowledge isn't something I usually spend any time on. While my wife Amy is someone who will hop on the world wide interwebs and find how-to YouTube videos, I ask, "Who can fix it for me? Where do I get a new one?"

That has changed some for me in the past year since we've had a trailer camper, although a lot of the learning curve is still above my pay grade. And to be fair, there have been many home projects over the years where Amy and I do it ourselves, with a lot of blood, sweat, tears and cursing along the way. Mostly for me, not from her. Plus, any time there are computer, Wi-Fi or printer issues, I'm the fixer, no matter how much I grumble about it. And I grumble about it a lot.

So, when my six-month-old electronic drum set hit a snag with the snare, I was bummed. The snare sound no longer triggered each time I hit the drum head. It was under warranty still, so I contacted the manufacturer and waited. And waited. 

And while I waited, I continued to work on me. Learning, stretching, growing and improving are big parts of our family culture, and we encourage each other and our daughters to try new things, to try things we've always wanted to learn. We also encourage each other to work through our feelings about the world around us and others, all starting with how we feel about ourselves first. We check in with each other daily and during our weekly family meetings, to ensure emotional and physical safety, empathy, belonging and love. 

The pandemic continues to stress us all out unfortunately. I've been super sensitive to overreactions and divisive anger all around us, limiting my time on social media and reading the news. So much has happened over the past year and a half. So much loss. So many broken. So much helplessness of not knowing how to help. Sure, we can donate, volunteer, get activated and participate in making a difference, which we do, but it can all still lead to mental health strain and sedating. Recently after reenergizing my heart, I focused more on Amy and our daughters. And me. 

After fits and starts for decades of always wanting to play the drums, I'm actually playing the drums. Really playing them. Not in a band or anything like that. Just practicing and playing nearly every single day. Which is why when my snare broke, it bummed me out. I could still play most of my lessons, but the drum sounds were off and I felt off balance, out of synch. 

I went online and searched for "how to fix your electronic drum head." I found a few videos and settled on one that guided me on what to look for. In most of today's electric drum heads there are two sensors that pick up the vibration from hitting the drum and then those vibrations zoom along cables to the drum computer that then translates into a specific drum sound -- snare, tom, cymbal, etc. -- that emanates from my drum speakers. The sensor at the bottom of the snare picks up the rim hits, and the padded sensor at the top picks up the main drum head hits. What I found was the wire to the top sensor was severed somehow. How it happened, I had no idea, but the cut was very close to the sensor itself under a glued foam pad, so I didn't think I could fix it. 

A week later I finally heard from the manufacturer and the new snare was on back order and they'd send me an alternative drum. I said to myself, Great, but in the meantime I'm going back in. I took the snare apart again and went to work. This time I figured out I could lift the glued pad enough to reconnect the severed wire without damaging the sensor. After putting it all back together again, it worked. Right on. 

But unlike my snare, I can't fix others when they're broken. I can encourage introspection and healing, but I can't fix them. While pandemic anxiety continues to punch down on many of us, the place to start is here (I'm pointing at my own heart). I can open up my own heart and tinker with what's inside. Maybe even fix it. 

One of the latest meditations Amy I listened to states, "My relationships begin within, through love and caring for myself." Amen to that. Whether you meditate or pray, exercise or vacay, or engage in other kinds of mental health help, fix your heart first, one mindful beat at a time.

Reenergizing Our Hearts

"A tired mind become a shape-shifter
Everybody need a mood lifter
Everybody need reverse polarity..."

–Rush, Vital Signs

I thought I was going to die. After the first lap, my asthma kicked in and I struggled to breathe. After the third lap, my lungs felt like they were filled with hot mud; I had to fight for every single raspy gasp of air. After the fourth lap, my skinny body was drenched in sweat and my face a pasty white. 

But I did it. Every year when I had to run the mile to pass physical education in grade school, I did it. Even with the asthma attacks I used to get. 

Fast forward to today – Beatrice has to run a mile every week in middle school PE, and she decided she wanted to work on improving her time. She asked her mom (Amy) to go with her, to run to the ocean about a mile from where we live. I told her I wanted to go, too. Her sister, Bryce, said no way. 

So, the three of us left the house and began to run. Immediately Beatrice sprinted ahead and Amy kept pace. I was left in the dust. I don't really run anymore since I had knee surgery, but I do run on the beach once a week at Natural Bridges State Park. As I ran the best pace I could, I felt every ounce of my body weight and I kept thinking about our recent decision to cut back on caloric consumption (food and drink).

Amy and I are in pretty good health, but as the pandemic wore on this past year, we both put on what has been jokingly called the "COVID-19". Thankfully it wasn't literally 19 pounds, but it was enough for each of us. We exercise nearly every day, and yet, our metabolisms are slower than ever.

Beatrice and Amy were over 50 yards ahead of me when we hit the half-mile mark. I thought I was going to die. No adult asthma this time (although it has come back over the past 15 years during fall and spring), but I was still sucking air. The weekly beach runs were not my conditioned friends at this point. I kept going though. Amy and Bea doubled back to be with me, but then Bea zoomed ahead again with Amy right there with her.

It wasn't just the weight that was the issue. Like so many working parents with kids distance learning (not this year so far thankfully), sheltering in place, wearing masks everywhere else, waiting for the vaccines (which we got once available), and the contrary extremes around us going completely bananas on nearly every aspect of life, we compartmentalized the daily grind and didn't really care for our mental health. 

We thought we did with our morning meditations and positive communication practice. And while it may have been a temporary mood-lifter, sedating with food and drink every night isn't really good self-care. It's just turning "off" until the next day starts everything all over again and the compartmentalizing continues. Even so, we remained grateful throughout for our circumstances and took care of our children and their emotional needs, just not our own as much as we should have.

After Beatrice, Amy and I finished running the mile together, and after I caught up to Amy and Beatrice who kept their 50-yard lead most of the way, I looked out over the ocean and to the Natural Bridge below where I'd finish my workout. My chest heaved, my big body was drenched in sweat, and my face was a pasty white. The air tasted so very sweet though, and was filled with a clarity and grace, without judgement, for ourselves and for others who have struggled with pandemic life, even when we think we didn't. We're finally reversing the polarity of our fatigued spirits and reenergizing our hearts. Blessings to you all. 

Just Another Part That Pierces My Heart

Within a few days, it was infected. I remember it well, because at first it became inflamed and itchy. Then came the gross discharge; obviously I didn't take care of it at first. After it got infected, I had to keep cleaning it every day with hydrogen peroxide while keeping it bandaged for nearly the first month until it finally healed up. After that, I only really kept it in for about one year. 

So much for my fashion fad of wearing an earring.  When I told Beatrice I had an earring years before I met her mom, she wanted to know more. She wasn't the one interested in getting earrings, though. Her younger sister, Bryce, was. 

Beatrice had run an errand with me one night after dinner and that's when we got to talking about it. Bryce was all ready to get her earrings on her birthday, and so I told Bea about my experience. She told me she would probably never have earrings, and not just because of my story. 

Bryce definitely wanted them for her 11th birthday, though, and my wife Amy and I agreed to it. The plan was to go to Claire's in the mall to get them pierced. Claire's is a jewelry & accessories store for girls, teens and tweens that also does ear piercings onsite. And that's actually where I had my done in my late twenties. No judgement, please. The earring looked cool once the ear healed up. 

Months earlier, though, Amy and another friend of ours were talking about buying piercing kits and doing our daughters' piercings together at home, which didn't happen. Visions of using ice cubes to numb the lobes and then using sewing needles to puncture the ears came to mind for me. That's not how it's done anymore at home (I hope), but I definitely wasn't supportive of the home direction either way. I teased Amy about this, telling her she wasn't certified to pierce ears. She countered by asking how do we know those people in the mall were? 

We didn't, but I thought they had to be somehow, right? I mean, they've pierced millions of ears over the years without litigious problems that I'm aware of, so there has to be some level of training and safety. After Bryce's ears were pierced, not before, I went to Claire's website to check. According to their website, their associates are trained in local piercing policy, practice and procedures in order to deliver clean, hygienic and safe piercing environments. It went on in more detail about their training process as well. That made me feel better. 

When we went to Claire's to get Bryce's ears pierced, all went well. Bryce was nervous, but only felt a quick pinch when the piercing device made the hole and inserted the earring on each ear with one clean action. The piercer had a wiggle a bit on one ear, like the piercing device was stuck, but then it came out clean. Both ears now had lovely 14K gold peridot August birthstone stud earrings inserted, which weren't cheap. The piercing was free with the purchase of earrings, of course. You pay for it in the marked up earrings. Although when I checked online later, these earrings can run a lot more than even we paid. 

"I could've bought a home kit for 10 bucks. C'mon," Amy said as we left the mall.

"Again, you're not a certified ear piercer," I said.

"Again, how do we know she was?"

"Fair point." 

Again, I did check the website after we got home and their piercers are trained and seemingly certified, in a sense. Good to know. Now, to keep her ear lobes clean so she doesn't have to bandage them up like mine had to be. But in fact, the bigger deal is the fact that both of our girls are growing up, and are now a tween and a teen; just another part that pierces my heart. Sigh. 

The Hopeful Drive of Togetherness and Play

I remember when she said she'd score a goal this time. It was our second-to-last game during the last year I had coached recreational soccer in 2018. Our youngest daughter Bryce was on the team and she was confidently clear -- she would score a goal and the team would play well together. 

I also remember thinking, Would either of our girls will play soccer again next year? Will I ever coach again? No matter what, we're all going to finish out this year strong as a team, tears and all. Winning is great, the competitive side of me knows that all too painfully well. But in the end, it is how you play the game. Not how it plays you. 

Then that game started and something was different. The girls played better. They ran harder, went to the ball instead of waiting for it, controlled the ball, passed the ball – and they scored. A lot. After being pummeled all season, we actually won this game. Six goals to the other team's two. And one of those was Bryce's goal. She made it happen. They all made it happen. We subbed players in and out and coached them along the way, but this, this was all them.

And they knew it. They felt it. They lived it. They loved it. They had fun doing it, which was key. They celebrated every moment of it in every moment of it. That's the stuff we wanted them to encase in their still-growing hearts, the making it happen and making it their own, to access this playful confidence as needed throughout their lives.

Because we need it now more than ever, kids and adults alike. The year after that, both our daughters played, but I didn't coach. I was too busy at work and I traveled a lot in 2019. While I enjoyed my work travel, and my the work I did (and still do), I missed coaching Beatrice and Bryce and their teammates. 

Neither one played in 2020 due to the pandemic. Rec soccer wasn't available anyway, at least not the full regular seasons of the past. They did run a social distanced and masked practice clinic of sorts, but our girls didn't want to do that. They did both missed soccer, however; they've mentioned it multiple times during the past two years. They missed the friendships, the team building and the fun mostly. So did I.

This year I knew my work travel would be limited, so I decided to volunteer to coach again. Bryce wanted to play again as well, so I'll coach her U12 team of 11-year-old girls this fall. Our oldest Beatrice decided she wanted to be my assistant coach and give me a hand, and that made me smile. 

When I went to this year's coaches meeting to kick things off, the new local soccer club leaders were excited so many of us were volunteering to coach after such a difficult year and a half. The rec soccer coordinator walked us through everything we needed to know for the year. He had played both recreational soccer and competitive soccer in his formative years, and then played competitively in college. 

He talked about a specific a new methodology of play called Play-Practice-Play, developed by the U.S. Soccer Federation's Grassroots initiatives. It was a methodology I didn't learn when I volunteered to coach for four years from 2015 to 2018.  

According to what he shared and the U.S. Federation website: 

Play-Practice-Play is a Grassroots developed philosophy designed around a player-centered approach to coaching. Taking a player centered approach places the needs and motivations of the player at the forefront of a coach’s approach to coaching his or her players. The concept of Play-Practice-Play is to allow young players to experience the game and game-like situations as much as possible. This approach differs from traditional practices that may have children standing in lines, running laps and participating in drills that don’t resemble the game of soccer.

And that's when it hit me -- my personal philosophy of coaching in the first place was around teaching skills, team-building and having fun. And all of these things, especially the fun, comes from the play. That's why the favorite part of practices were the scrimmages, the playing. Every single time one of my teams played their hearts out -- win, lose or tie -- they were playing within all the multi-faceted meanings of the word. 

They knew it. They felt it. They lived it. They loved it. They celebrated every moment of it in every moment of it individually and together. It was all them; I just helped facilitate it.

So, Coach Kevin is going to give it a go again this year. Our sponsor is appropriately Kidpower, and at a time when too many adults feel less than inspirational, or inspired themselves, including myself, I look forward to the hopeful drive of togetherness and play. 

Their Love of Learning

"All right -- rapid fire questions, girls. What are you the most stressed about going back to school this year. Bryce, go."

Our youngest daughter, Bryce, didn't hesitate. "Not knowing who my teacher will be and who will be in my class."

"I know," I said. "You'll know the night before, though." 

Bryce nodded. 

"Beatrice, go."

Our oldest daughter, Beatrice, jumped right in. "Remembering my locker number and getting lost on campus." 

Those weren't new to her. Early in the pandemic, before we had to end up distance learning for over a year, she was stressed about going to 6th grade in middle school and having to use a locker. Now, going into 7th grade, she will, which is why I'm going down to the hardware store to buy her a combination lock to practice on.

"Okay. What about what you're looking forward to the most? Bryce, go."

"I'm looking forward to learning again," Bryce said. "And seeing my friends." 

Love that girl. "Nice. Beatrice, go."

"I'm looking forward to seeing my friends and meeting new people and taking art," she said. "I hope I get into that."

"I know, me too," I said.

"And I'm looking forward to learning again, too," she added.

Love these girls. I had taken them out to lunch after they helped me take our trailer camper to get a check up. They both have the hooking up and the parking the camper down. 

School is about to start again, and they're both going back five days a week. Earlier in spring, Bryce had gone back in person five days a week, and Beatrice when back two days a week. We were all grateful for this and are all grateful again for a new school year. Grateful for the teachers and the school districts encouraging vaccinations and requiring masks indoors.

The girls didn't end up saying a word about having to wear masks again indoors at school. They both went to summer camp and summer school and mask safety protocols were in place then as well. Social distancing became a wash, though, because keeping kids and adults alike to stay six feet apart was never easy. Non-existent most of the time. 

We've never had vaccination fears over the years, and all of us are now vaccinated, except for Bryce. And because of that, we continue to have her wear a mask indoors when we're all out together, especially where required. The Delta variant is super contagious and spreading fast -- and child infections are on the rise. Over 4 million children have had covid since the pandemic began and now more young unvaccinated people are getting sicker with the virus. 

Even for those who are vaccinated, wearing masks continue to help prevent the transmission of the COVID-19 virus. Infectious disease and healthcare professionals know a lot more about the virus now and the science facts are clear. The percentage of those who have extreme adverse side effects is quite low (less than 1%) compared to the prevention benefits of keeping people out of the hospital. Simultaneously the misinformation and myths about vaccinations and wearing masks continue to divide and confuse. The battle between personal freedoms, fear of stigmatization and shame, and health and safety is so lost on me now more than ever. I'm tired of the argument. Tired of the pandemic. Tired of wearing masks.

However, health and safety will always win in our family, so we will do what we have to do to stay healthy and safe. And as soon as the vaccination is available for Bryce, she's getting the shot. We'll all wear masks when needed and if mandated in the meantime. Here are some quick reminders about mask myths and realities for us all (from healthychildren.org):

Can wearing a mask make it harder for my child to breathe?

No, masks are made from breathable materials that will not block the oxygen your child needs. Masks will not affect your child's ability to focus or learn in school. The vast majority of children age 2 or older can safely wear face masks for extended periods of time, such as the school day or at child care. This includes children with many medical conditions.

Can masks interfere with a child's lung development?

No, wearing a face mask will not affect your child's lungs from developing normally. This is because oxygen flows through and around the mask, while blocking the spray of spit and respiratory droplets that may contain the virus. Keeping your child's lungs healthy is important, which includes preventing infections like COVID-19.

Do masks trap the carbon dioxide that we normally breathe out?

No. There have been false reports that face masks can lead to carbon dioxide poisoning (known as hypercapnia) from re-breathing the air we normally breathe out. But this is not true. In fact, surgeons wear tight fitting masks all day as part of their jobs, without any harm.

Can masks lead to a weaker immune system by putting the body under stress?

No. Wearing a face mask does not weaken your immune system or increase your chances of getting sick if exposed to the COVID-19 virus. Wearing a mask, even if you do not have symptoms of COVID-19, helps prevent the virus from spreading.

For parents who are concerned about their kids going back to school, who may have to deal with bullying and harassment due to wearing or not wearing masks, getting vaccinated or not, or just the fact of being back to school again in person with all the human challenges of being all together again, Kidpower has great resources and workshops for parents and kids to stay safe and healthy. 

It's hard enough growing up and it's now gotten a lot harder because of the ongoing pandemic. Too many adults in charge continue to downplay verified health science, and instead, promote myths, fear and shame about vaccines and wearing masks that put us all at risk. And our children today are the most at risk to this preventable insanity. 

When I reflect on the earlier conversation I had with our daughters about going back to school, their love of learning was a clear priority. Nothing about covid -- the worst fear being remembering a locker combination. Just their love of learning, seeing their old friends and meeting new friends are what's top of mind for them. That's a back-to-school lesson for us all. 

Surfing the Toxic Afterglow

We agreed that Facebook is too much a cesspool of toxic aggression. A place where it’s all too easy to say whatever the hell you want because you want to, share whatever the hell you want because you want to, fact-based or not. Usually not unfortunately. This includes political aggression, religious aggression, racist aggression, sexist aggression – so much aggression. 

You are wrong and I am right; the posted toxicity leads to an escalated pile-on of aggression on one either side, or both usually. Too many individuals, groups and organizations also use the platform to misinform and divide for whatever nefarious ulterior motives they have.

We also marginalize those we don’t agree with online, those who we think are ignorant and uninformed, those we don’t know very well or want to take the time to understand, those who we thought we knew well and didn't. This all leads to shock, disgust, frustration and further aggression. Or blocking or unfriending (which I’ve done). Or just quitting Facebook altogether (which I’ve been tempted to do more than once). 

Even when we’re trying to change the hearts and minds of others we feel are out of their friggin’ minds with well-measured rational and positive affirmations, that can still lead to aggressive pile-ons that change no hearts and no minds. 

And even when we try to counter all of the above with family-and-friend friendly pictures and posts, and/or socially safe memes, and/or neutral work-related promotional posts, they may only help to diffuse the toxic aggression temporarily. Because there’s also another dumpster fire ready to start somewhere (I'm guilty as charged for starting some of those). 

This was a conversation I had with a dear old friend I hadn’t seen since pre-covid. We were in person for the first time in a long time, visiting with some of my family we also hadn't seen since pre-covid. The added stress of separation, no matter how differently we all see the world, was further poisoned by one of the very platforms that was supposed to help keep us all connected during this pandemic. 

None of this is new either; the nasty social network rhetoric has only escalated since I was first on Facebook back in 2008. And these are people we all know in some capacity – no anonymity here. With anonymity, it's so much worse and such an extreme health and safety problem with bullying and threats of rape and death. 

We keep hearing our daughter’s voices in our heads, “Why don’t you just get off this Facebook thing, Mom and Dad. It just makes you mad.”

And they're right. We don’t want either of our daughters to be on any of these kinds of social networks where they have to trudge through the radioactive waste of everybody else’s nuclear thought bombs. That’s another problem as well, the glow of this nasty sludge never goes away. Others can find it and see it – prospective employers, for example. Or, places where you might want to volunteer at. Or, where you might want to go to college. And the list goes on. 

My wife Amy doesn't spend a lot of time on Facebook anymore. She mostly just likes to numb her mind and surf through it, looking for positive posts and funnies that make her laugh, and now mostly steers clear of the fires. She tells me she doesn't want me to quit Facebook because of these GOTG posts I share, and I'm the family photo Dad posting pics she can share and comment on! 

We didn't grow up with any mobile devices or online social networks. Thank God for that. However, both our girls have grown up with devices and the internet and are quite comfortable playing innocuous and cute kid apps and games for now (which we monitor and check-in on often). 

But we don't really monitor and check-in often on ourselves when online. What was supposed to be the positive aspect of the internet and platforms like Facebook – the ability to connect with anyone, anywhere, at any time and to share positive life stories, important (and true) news that affects us all, pictures and videos to loved ones we can't see in person and other important life events, has really just gone to hell.

We've learned things about each other that we never really wanted to know, complicating further the tenuous relationships we may have already had. Thankfully many of us walk away before escalation, but too many of us still don't. Instead, we release our inner Kraken and don't check ourselves, or each other, repeatedly marginalizing each other with nuclear slight bombs. And then afterwards, we're caught happily surfing the toxic afterglow, awash in wave after wave of negative biases and -isms. 

Our kids are right – we really should get off this Facebook thing. Ugh. 

Probably Together Forever

"I don't like that you and Dad keep fighting," Beatrice said. 

Our oldest daughter stood there looking very concerned. If our youngest, Bryce, felt concerned as well, she didn't show it or say anything. She doesn't like conflict anyway; she usually makes herself small and withdrawals. 

"We're not fighting," my wife Amy said.

"Beatrice, we don't always agree, but we're not fighting," I said. 

"Yes, you are," Bea said.

"No, honey, we're not."

In reality there have only been a handful of times over 24 years together that Amy and I have really fought unhappily. Even having to leave the house to cool off. A couple of those times were in front of the girls. However, upwards of 40%-50% of marriages end in divorce, and the odds are, and have been, that our daughters will have friends whose parents split up. Temporarily or permanently. 

It's not something that they were aware of, or articulated, at younger ages. But now they're both painfully aware of parents who split up, whether that be from friends or family. They also know that I was married once before. When they first learned that years ago, Beatrice riddled me with questions. In fact, my parents were divorced and Amy's were, too. 

Amy wasn't married before, and from our first meeting to today, she's been the catalyst that keeps the priority of our love intact, and our willingness to do the work. It's not that I haven't made it a priority. I have. But I've also struggled a lot more with my past continuously affecting my present. The good news -- I don't think that I've ever been more psychologically and emotionally in place than today.

Of course there are reasons why people shouldn't stay together. If there is physical or emotional abuse for either person, safety should be the highest priority. My mother divorced twice due to excessive abuse at the hands of her spouse. And if someone is continuously unhappy, or both, for whatever reason, then that could be another reason for splitting up. 

Amy and I have always done the relationship work. The open and honest communication. The criticality of intimacy. The interconnections that come from compromise. The boundary setting with each other and others. The emotional and psychological investment in each other and in ourselves. The not going to bed angry. We've both committed to doing the work and we want to do the work. It's also work that's never-ending (which is why we love Brené Brown's work so much). It's not really hard work when you're all in, but is it never-ending. 

Also, when you're with someone for any length of time, again 24 years for us, there's a comfort in how well you know each other. There are a million inside jokes and catch phrases we've shared over the years that still bring a smile or a laugh. There's also a teasing banter we've developed over the years with one another that can sound like we're unhappy when we're really not. And when that overlaps into disagreements about any topic, the girls may misinterpret what's happening. 

We continue to impart on our daughters what it takes to keep a relationship thriving, when both people want it to thrive. We impart on them that disagreements are important to healthy relationships; we each have our own minds and spirits. Just like the line from our marriage vows and one of my favorite Rush songs The Speed of Love -- "where two halves make two wholes."

We are hopeful romantics who do the work. We also know that absolutes aren't realistic -- we will be together forever, for example. We'll be together as long as we both do the relationship work. Also, in the same spirit of jest we have with one another, when Beatrice asks if we're going to be together forever, we tell her -- probably together forever. She smirks at this. Hopefully one day they'll both find what we've found together. And in sense, within our own family love, they already have.

Epilogue

"I always see you guys kiss after you tease each other," said Bryce. "That's loving."

The Greatest Reward of All

Watching his grown daughter congratulate him for all his hard work and success, and thank him for pushing her to always do her best, to being such a positive supporter of her life and life choices, made me think of what that might look like someday with our own daughters. 

One of my dear friends from high school recently retired. At least, from the career he had for decades at the same company, which isn't as common as it used to be, not with average tenures, even with promotions, being much shorter. 

This friend listened to me provided with with supportive counsel during some very dark times my senior year in high school. He's one of a handful of people who have kept our collective friendships going for over 40 years. The last time we were all together was early 2020, pre-covid, and I couldn't wait to see them all when we were invited to his retirement party with his family and colleagues. We've put the work in to sustain and grow our friendships over the years, so it was a pleasure to be with most of them again. 

Listening to his daughter speak about her father gladdened by heart. My wife Amy sat next to me and I thought about how we've put the work into our relationship. How we've been loving and supportive of each others ups (and downs), of our careers and life choices, of how we manage our emotions and positive communication every day and encourage our daughters to do the same. How we're positive supporters of their lives and life choices. We're still the parents, and they're still the children, with us imparting parental guidance and positive discipline when necessary; we want them to ultimately live their best lives as adults. 

Because we live our best lives every single day, and even when self-doubt creeps in, as it has for me lately, we choose empathy and love over cynicism and self-criticism in our personal and professional lives. Because for us, the professional and personal are inextricably linked. 

And the reality is that things don't always go as we've planned. Like programs I've developed for the organization I run that I was so sure about that just didn't take off. Personal writings that I share each week that I feel just don't resonate with anyone. The cynicism and self-criticism creeps in. That's what I've been struggling with lately. 

But I still put in the work to work through it because the work never ends. There's a new song from the band Twenty One Pilots that I love called Mulberry Street. There's a lyric in it that goes "keep your bliss, there's nothing wrong with this, we just want to feel it all." That truly hits the mark for me these days. 

Feeling failure on any level isn't an endgame; how it's perceived and processed inside is what can bring a new framing. One that should lead to looking at the why upside-down and then trying again right-side up. That's part of doing the work; there's nothing wrong with feeling this way or that. As long as you feel it all and enrich yourself with what's next. 

Keep your bliss, there's nothing wrong with this, we just want to feel it all.

Someday when our daughters are grown they will congratulate us for doing the work, keeping our bliss and for empowering them to do the same, and that legacy will be the greatest reward of all. 

Forging Life Paths

When she was 3, we had no idea what would come from her developmental delays. Now that she's nearly 13, we're so grateful for how much she's thrived. And she's only just begun. Our oldest, Beatrice, will be going into 7th grade this fall. Mercy me -- 7th grade. After a year and a half of pandemic and mostly distance learning, except for the last two months of the school year, she did well. And for someone who dislikes math so much, she did really well. We made a big deal out of that. She, however, did not. 

Reading isn't a favorite of hers either, but graphic novels have found a home in her heart and her mind. One of her favorite authors/artists is Raina Telgemeier who wrote Smile, Guts, Drama, different iterations of The Babysitters Club (based on the novels by Ann M. Martin). Not just reading them either; she's working on multiple stories herself. She's writing her own story lines, developing characters, drawing her characters and story lines, giving them depth and back stories. She runs her stories by her mom and I, and we give her feedback and ask her questions, which helps her think through them even more. 

When our youngest Bryce was 3, she didn't have the same delays her sister had. She thrived in school from the very beginning, with math and reading being some of her favorite subjects. Science, too. It wasn't too long ago when we took the girls to the Kennedy Space Center in Florida, and Bryce was convinced she wanted to be an astronaut. Today we watched the Virgin Galactic space flight, and while Bryce has moved onto an interest in marine biology and the ocean, another unexplored space itself, I can see how she watched the Virgin Galactic livestream with curious intensity.

Bryce will be going into 5th grade this fall. Mercy me -- 5th grade. Bryce also survived the distance learning and unlike her sister is an avid reader. She loves chapter books (and graphic novels, too), and some of her current favorites are The Mysterious Benedict Society series (which I read to her at night; never gets old to read to your children), Wings and Fire series (just like my love of fantasy when I was their ages), The Magic Treehouse series, and others, as well as reading marine biology books for kids. 

Besides academics and reading, we're also so proud of how both girls have developed socially. They are good friends themselves, treating each other with empathy and respect, looking out for each other. They treat their friends the same, both sharing mutual friends and having each their own. This summer they've both gone to a daily summer camp and are now in summer school (which they both enjoy, but Bea says it's too much like school-school). They've gotten to know some of their current schoolmates better (since they weren't in person for over a year) and have also met new friends. 

They are also fiercely independent, as much as you can be when you're almost 11 and 13, and we continue to help them practice boundary setting and find their voices. Each week at our family meetings we discuss managing our emotions, providing positive support and engaging in positive communication with each other and others in our lives. 

And now Beatrice is developing her mentoring and leadership skills by wanting to work with younger kids. She's already helped as a junior leader in different after-school programs like Kids in Nature, and next year she wants to be a junior leader at the summer camp both girls attended this summer. Soon she'll help out with the little kids at another day camp a friend of ours is running. Babysitting is right around the corner too and she's already putting the word out she wants to start practicing. We're sure Bryce's leadership development isn't too far behind.

As their parents, we don't always get the leading with eyes of love right, and we're blinded by our own flash floods of bias and fear. We know the world is full of precarious canyons and cliffs, and yet, they are forging life paths for themselves with compassion and empathy we could have never imagined for ourselves when we were their age. We're so proud of them both. 

The Future of Freedom

I remember my childhood on the 4th of July: running around with my cousins in my grandparents' backyard, the summer heat beating down on us while we ate hamburgers and hot dogs, homemade ice cream and watermelon. I felt free without a care in the world. Even with the personal troubles we had at home growing up, those moments with the bigger family represented freedom and safety to me. 

Over the years I got to know this idea, America, more and more. Land of the free and home of the brave, where all men were created equal, endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. 

At least, that's what we were taught. In school, we were taught the sanitized version of America, and at the time I didn't know any better. However, growing up with Schoolhouse Rock did help cement the why of America and gave me a civics background in song that was more memorable than any civics class I had from grade school to high school. How I loved the Constitution Preamble episode (those of you from our generation can sing along!).

When I was in college, and then after college, I started studying history, the real history of this country, and how we weren't all created or treated equal. Not by a long shot. Indigenous people, people of color, women, gay people, and so many more segments of our country's population were marginalized, discriminated against and worse. It took nearly 200 years after the Declaration of Independence for the Civil Rights Act of 1964 to be passed, which prohibits discrimination on the basis of race, color, religion, sex or national origin. 

There's a great new show on Netflix called We the People. It's kind of like Schoolhouse Rock meets 2021, with today's musical artists composing and singing the songs. So far there have been two episodes: the first one is about how we the people can affect positive change in our country, and the second is about the Bill of Rights. We can't wait to watch the rest with our girls!

As I was thinking about this 4th of July and how my wife Amy and I continue to feel about learning America's history, the real history, and how we want our daughters to do the same, I scanned old July 4th photos on my phone. I found a cute one from six years ago with Beatrice and Bryce holding flags and dressed in old-timey clothes from 100 years ago. 

Pre-covid, Amy and I loved taking the girls Wilder Ranch State Park and celebrate an old-fashioned 4th of July. The park staff and other volunteers would also reenact a women's suffrage parade, complete with signs calling for the right of women to vote in elections. That's an important part of history for our girls to understand and to ensure it doesn't disappear. 

We love this country. Its ideals have empowered many a positive change for all kinds people, here and abroad, and we're grateful for those who have fought for those ideals. It's taken hundreds of years to get here, and we've still got a lot long ways to go in America, and go the distance we will. Because the future of freedom is always at stake. 

The Why of History

"Why do we keep treating black people this way?" 

That was a question our oldest daughter Beatrice asked after hearing on the news yet another police shooting of another unarmed black person. 

"I know, Bea," I said. "We have a long history of racism in this country that too often results in violence." 

"It's just sad," she said. "We shouldn't treat people that way."

"I know. And we can do better." 

After that exchange, I heard my dad's voice from the past in my head. He was a police officer when I was a teenager in the 1980's.

"Well, son, there are good cops, and there are bad cops, just like there are good bakers and bad bakers. Unfortunately there are always some who don't play by the rules and hurt others. But for us, yes, there are mostly good cops."

"But Dad, bad bakers don't kill other good bakers, or or other people."

"You are correct, son. You are correct. They do not. Not usually."

My dad and I did talk about systemic racism back then, although the conversation always came back to individuals who discriminated against others, not the fact that it was baked into our societal institutions. As our own daughters have gotten older and their awareness of the world around them has increased, and because they overhear their Mom and Dad talking about current events, they ask about them, especially Beatrice. That can lead to brief exchanges about our history and what really happened in our country since before its independence was declared. 

Like about something I didn't even know, something my wife Amy and I weren't taught in school. We didn't learn that the year before the ship Mayflower brought the Pilgrims to Plymouth Rock, two other ships -- the White Lion and the Treasurer -- brought slaves to Jamestown in 1619. Although scholars called them indentured servants, they were technically slaves. Thus began the tragic history of institutionalized slavery in early America. Slaves who lived in constant fear of their lives -- many of whom who were maimed, raped and killed to keep white power in power. Even after the Civil War and the Emancipation Proclamation and the Thirteenth Amendment in 1865, nearly 5,000 people were lynched between 1882 and 1968 in the United States, and almost 3,500 were black people. And in 2020, three white men stalked and killed a black jogger. And a white officer killed a black man by leaning on his neck for 9 minutes. And the list goes on and on back then through now. 

Bad apples? Or an ongoing struggle with power and our racist past and present? And it isn't just about discriminating against black people -- add in all people of color into out complex historical equation. I understand wanting to embrace our constitutional ideals that we're all created equal and we all have these inclusive inalienable rights (rights we did not collectively have until the late 20th century). That each of us can be whatever we want in this country, regardless of race, gender, sexual preference, political persuasion and/or religion, which is what many of us tell our children.

However, there are those who are pretty vocal these days about how they don't like each other because of race, gender, sexual preference, political persuasion and/or religion. Thankfully many more of us want to lead with eyes of love, empathy, understanding and accountability, and we also want our children to do that same. That includes understanding our history. All of it. In an age-appropriate context, but all of it just the same. Because how else are we going to know better and do better? 

It's really been on my mind ever since we camped in the Zion area, where we went to Pipe Spring National Monument. The monument is managed by both the National Park Service and the Kaibab Band of Paiute Indians. This is the only water source between the Virgin River and the Colorado River, and its history is a familiar and sad one in America. One where white settlers displaced the indigenous Paiute Indians so they could own the water, and then they brought in their cattle and destroyed the expansive grasslands the Indians had lived symbiotically with for generations. Women and girls from the local tribes were also sold into the slave trade by Spanish settlers. This happened again and again to the indigenous people in America. That combined with slavery and systemic racism and what happened to people of color over the past 400 years in this country are realities we want our children to understand -- and to not stand for them happening again. 

We're a white family. But we do not feel discriminated against. We don't feel like people of color or political leaders want to take our freedoms away (well, some political leaders, yes). We don't feel the civil rights that were fought so vehemently for undermine our rights or our constitution, not when our constitution was supposed to embody the very rights of every citizen in our country in the first place. In fact, our daughters' gender will be held against them much more than our own skin color. 

Last week was Juneteenth, and next week is July 4, so why can't we talk about our history openly and honestly? I am no scholar of Critical Race Theory, but I do believe in studying and understanding history and how it affects the realities of where we're at today as a society. That includes our children learning history as well. All of history, not just the parts that make America look good in the minds of certain groups. While we may not be responsible today for slavery and the systemic racism that came to be, we are all responsible for understanding the why of history to help prevent racism's persistence tomorrow.

Always Safety First

I pushed back on the face shields. I didn't want our daughters to have to wear them while we were traveling during our summer road trip. My wife Amy had been given a pair of face shields prior to us leaving, and they were to be worn if we were eating inside a crowded restaurant. 

Again, I didn't want them to have to wear them; we were already having them wear face masks inside everywhere we went. I struggled with stigma over safety. I worried about being confronted in public, our children shamed, us as parents shamed, and me shouting back in anger. I was caught up in the fear of the political and irrational fringe that refuses to wear any masks and to not be vaccinated. 

Amy reminded me of what I already knew and agreed with -- safety first. Always safety first, regardless of anyone's feelings, even my own. We all still wore our face masks in many places indoors during our vacation due to COVID-19, mostly in solidarity with our daughters, with only our oldest Beatrice being half-vaccinated. Our youngest Bryce won't be able to be vaccinated until it's approved for children under 12. The good news was that many other families wore their masks inside as well while we traveled (and not always required indoors depending on where we were). 

Amy and I are always grounded in the best science of our time, and this time was no exception. According the the CDC, fewer children have been sick with COVID-19 compared to adults, children can be infected with the virus that causes COVID-19, can get sick from COVID-19, and can spread the virus that causes COVID-19 to others. Children, like adults, who have COVID-19 but have no symptoms (“asymptomatic”) can still spread the virus to others.

And that was the key -- can still spread the virus to others. Amy and I could still get sick being vaccinated. The probability was much lower, but it could happen. And anyone else we were around. With the Delta variant on the rise, a variant that spreads much faster than the first coronavirus, that's a reality we cannot deny.

Over 33 million people infected to date in the U.S., and over 600,000 people have died (most likely underreported). Covid still rages in places all over the world; nearly 4 million have died globally. Comparably, only 290,000 to 650,000 people die of flu-related causes every year worldwide. Also, only 45% of the total U.S. population is fully vaccinated against COVID-19. 53% have had at least one shot. We're still a ways from hitting 70% vaccinated rates, when we can truly move safely beyond the pandemic. It's pretty amazing when you think about it how fast these vaccines were developed, tested and distributed during a worldwide pandemic. 

So, there we were in a very crowded restaurant in Las Vegas, and when the food came, we had the girls wear the face shields. And no one gave us a second look, even with Beatrice getting food all over the inside of her shield (Bryce did not). No shaming or shaking of heads. Most of the time afterwards we either ate outside or were in less populated restaurants (or ate at our camper), but we still wore our face masks when required or needed. 

Now that we're back home we're very happy that our state has opened up, that Beatrice got her second dose, and that eventually Bryce will get vaccinated. I no longer struggle with safety stigma, and am sorry I did in the first place when we were on vacation. 

Unfortunately, too many people are still refusing to get vaccinated, and to wear masks if they're not, and many of those people are men, men who are fathers and grandfathers. I can't control the mass misinformation and conspiracy theories that continue to dissuade men from getting vaccinated, no matter how much free money, food and beer are being offered to them. I can only implore fathers everywhere to make safety a priority for their families and communities. Always safety first.

Happy Father's Day.