Sunday, January 31, 2021

The Safetyists

"The snakes and arrows a child is heir to
Are enough to leave a thousand cuts
We build our defenses, a place of safety
And leave the darker places unexplored..."


They found me at park near our house. I saw them drive up on the street, park and get out of their car. They stood there for a moment, probably collecting themselves on what to say to me, what to ask me. My behavior had been more and more emotionally erratic during my senior year in high school. They had no idea as to why. Not many people did, not even my closest friends at the time. 

And it's not that they wouldn't have listened if I tried to explain what was happening. They would've, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't articulate it. Not until that moment at the park. Earlier we'd been at some event inside an auditorium, which I believe it was another in a series of high school graduation events. Before the event had started, I had fled.

My parents came and sat across from me. I talked and cried. They listened and cried. I told them how alone I felt. How I didn't want to be here anymore. How crushing the stress and the anxiety was that I felt. How uncomfortable I'd get in groups and how I needed to get out and go far away. I didn't tell them everything then, but I told them enough. They had no idea this was how I had been feeling or why. 

Decades later, and my wife Amy and I have our own children. Two girls, now 10 and 12. Since October of 2018, we have a family meeting each week where everyone is encouraged to speak freely. After we share something about each other we've noticed over the past week, giving each other compliments and sharing what we're grateful for about each other. Then we move on to discussing managing our emotions, providing support, positive communication -- and safety plans. After that, it's share time, where the girls can discuss anything they want. 

We practice Kidpower every single day, empowering each other with emotional and physical safety skills, boundary setting and more. Amy and I are now taking a Positive Discipline course together, which is designed to teach young people to become responsible, respectful and resourceful members of their communities. Amy had taken a class two years ago, which is where she got the idea of the family meetings. These are all things that we can do

Being able to speak freely without judgement isn't easy to do today in our society. The isolating impact of COVID-19, along with the social upheaval of the past year and continued polarized shaming and blaming, it can really suck being an adult or a child these days.

Which is why we make it so safe to talk to each other about all these things. One positive thing about this past year is that we've become closer as a family. We speak freely without judgement, respecting each other's boundaries and keeping each other safe. We do get eye-rolls and sighs sometimes when we review being emotionally and physically safe with the girls, but we know it will pay dividends for them living a healthy life as adults with healthy relationships.

And just the other night during dinner:

"You guys are safetyists," said Beatrice.

"What do you mean?" I said.

"You want us to be safe."

"Well, yeah. We do. That's okay, right?"

"Well, yeah." 

"And we want to be safe, too."

"Well, yeah." 

"So, we're the safetyists."

"Well, yeah." 

And so it goes. #BhivePower

Sunday, January 24, 2021

Our Little BhivePower Bistro

The second time she tried, she nailed it. We told her to lay off the salt and add more marinara sauce this time. She wanted to do it all, too. Make the salad for us, heat up the meatballs, set the table. Everything. 

But it was what she called pizza bowls that were so yummy -- marinara sauce, cheese, cut up meatballs and chunks of sourdough bread mixed together. 

And yes, it was a gut bomb. A super yummy gut bomb. 

Our 12-year-old daughter, Beatrice, has been wanting to learn how to cook for awhile now. Both her and her younger sister, Bryce, have helped us make cookies, muffins and pancakes for a couple of years. More recently though Beatrice has been wanting to cook meals. During the school week sometimes, Bea helps to fix her and Bryce's lunches, especially if Mom and I are on work calls. 

Bea's been wanting to fix us dinner, too, so her mom Amy helped her plan her menu. Then Bea went to the store with Amy for the weekly grocery shopping and to get her ingredients she needed. Once Beatrice started fixing dinner, we told her we were there to help if she needed any, or even if she just had questions. Earlier in the day before she fixed dinner she made what she called peanut butter crumbles -- shortbread-like drop cookies with peanut butter and crumbled chocolate chip cookies. More super yum. 

I don't remember exactly what the first meal was that I fixed growing up (besides bologna boats for lunch with cheese and mustard). However, I do remember attempting to fix my mom sugar cookies for Mother's Day when I was about 9 years old. Because I didn't have all the right ingredients, and couldn't find the rolling pin, what I made turned into some kind of sweet sponge cake. Mom was so grateful and actually ate some of it with me, too. 

I do remember one of the first dinners my sister made when she was around Beatrice's age. She called them vita-burgers. It was supposed to be a healthier alternative (to what I wasn't sure) -- hamburger patties slathered in some kind of thick gravy with other things in the gravy (not sure what the other things were either). Yes, it was a gut bomb. A super yummy gut bomb. 

Beatrice worked hard making her pizza bowls, making the salad and putting everything else together. There were only a couple of times she needed cooking counsel. Otherwise, it was all her. I watched her moved back and forth deftly in the kitchen like a semi-pro in training. 

Then came the moment of truth.

"Come on, everyone. Dinner's ready," she said.

We were so proud. She was so proud. 

"I really wanted fix dinner for you Mom and Dad," Bea said. 

"And we're grateful for that, Beatrice," we said.

Amy and I take turns most nights fixing dinner, so it was a pleasure to have Beatrice want to cook for us. Learning throughout life is important, and the only way to know is to do -- and did she do. Of course, the dishes always fall on Dad most nights, but I'm fine with that (because I get to drum afterwards). Dinnertime is also good family time for us, a time to discuss the day and to share what we're grateful for. 

Now, if we could get Bryce to cook dinner for us someday, we'd be set with our little #BhivePower bistro. 

Sunday, January 17, 2021

This Is What We Can Do

I tired quickly of the social media memes and why I had to get off social. The memes that said things like "can't we just agree to disagree." Or, this very specific one associated with a picture of an older Clint Eastwood scowling:

I disagree with you. It doesn't mean I dislike you or that I'm mad at you. It just means that like you, I have my own opinions. I won't treat you disrespectfully just because we share differing opinions. Give me the same respect.

I mean, c'mon. Clint Eastwood? The actor/director who played Dirty Harry and a myriad of other strong, tough and unforgiving white-male leads who would more likely punch you or shoot you before listening to you? That's the image associated with this meme seemingly about trying to be understanding of each other, and it doesn't work for me. 

If we agree to disagree about whether or not our children should have their own phones, whether or not speed bumps should be added to our local streets, or even whether or not we support universal healthcare, then that's different. We could have a somewhat informed discussion based on verifiable facts and non-threatening personal opinions. But when what we disagree on could result in a safety problem for me, or my wife, or my two daughters, that could endanger us in any way, then it's not about compromise or respect. It's about personal safety. 

Plus, I just can't agree to disagree when belief and opinions are based on dangerous lies that result in destructive outcomes, even with the overwhelming amount of evidence to the contrary. For example, when someone wants to believe that the coronavirus isn't real, or really a threat to people, or a way to control the masses and negate personal freedoms, and aren't willing to practice safety protocols or eventually get vaccinated. Or they want to believe there was widespread voter fraud in the presidential election and are willing to try to take over the Capitol and kidnap, hurt and even kill government leaders and anyone else who disagrees with them (civilians like us). These are dire safety problems for many of us today who want to prevent others from getting sick or prevent violence in their own communities. 

Which is why it was timely that I received a Kidpower email that announced "We stand for safety!"

Kidpower is a nonprofit organization my wife Amy works for. It continues to teach our family and people of all ages and abilities to use their power to stay safe, act wisely, and believe in themselves.

How do we choose safety in dangerous times? This article describes 3 core Kidpower strategies for protecting ourselves and the young people in our lives:

  1. Create emotional safety
  2. Stay away from trouble
  3. Focus on what we CAN do

We're also teaching our daughters how to be accountable for their own words and actions and how they impact others, and possibly endanger them. And in the same breath, to not shame or marginalize others because they don't agree with them -- even when it involves potential safety problems for them and others. They do need to get away from the trouble, and stay away, and then focus on what they can do about it. The latest BrenĂ© Brown podcast highlights how important accountability is and how uncomfortable it is these days to address. Letting ourselves be vulnerable enough to be accountable for our actions is creating emotional safety for us and others. This is what our children are learning to do and will continue to practice into adulthood. 

Four years ago our entire family marched in the Women's March. And while there was angry shaming about the newly elected president then, for many of us it was all about how millions of inspired global citizens added to the momentum of a positive movement -- the transcendent beauty of inclusive community. The same sentiment for the times we participated in our local Martin Luther King, Jr. Day marches. Unfortunately the continued resurgence of misogyny, racism, bullying, intolerance, shaming -- and just blatant hateful dehumanization -- is a big safety problem for us all now.

I've been mostly off social media for the past week, because I feel we just can't agree to disagree anymore. Not when it's based on perpetuated lies that lead to destructive outcomes. And not when there's an ongoing willingness to marginalize others that leads to unnecessary violence. We just can't. The reality is that we should learn how to agree and disagree with each other, while being emotionally safe and accountable and truthful, without shaming or dehumanizing each other in the process. This is what we can do; what our children can learn from us. It will be a lot of hard work and will come with many uncomfortable conversations, but I truly believe this is how we heal. 

Sunday, January 10, 2021

What's Essential And Necessary

I couldn't believe my eyes. I sat there, completely stunned, in utter disbelief, watching the U.S. Capitol being attacked. There they were, tens of thousands of angry Americans, mostly white men, marched to the Capitol, rioted and broke inside waving American flags, Trump flags, Confederate flags and some carrying signs that read, FUCK YOUR FEELINGS -- GOD, GUNS & TRUMP -- STOP THE STEAL.

Fuck my feelings? Brothers and sisters, I'm nothing but feelings. I always try to be as balanced as possible with my writing, to avoid politics whenever possible and stay focused on parenting and personal safety, but I've been angry for days, unable to express how I feel about what's happened. 

Until now. While many have equated it to witnessing the 9/11 attacks, and how we're always going to remember, where we were and what we were doing, that wasn't exactly the right comparison for me.

No, for me, it was more like if angry strangers broke into my house and ransacked it, defiled it and threatened the safety of my family. All because they believed I stole something from them, even though I didn't, and even though there was plenty of verifiable evidence to back that up. For me, it was like an extreme violation of my house -- our nation's house. 

Except in this analogy they weren't really angry strangers -- they were more like friends, family and neighbors. 

My own anger seethed because, in the hours I watched off and on what was happening in Washington D.C. -- where five people died including one police officer -- I kept thinking about how my wife and I were going to explain to our two daughters about this latest divisiveness. Of how our own President and other government leaders have perpetuated lies and conspiracy theories for not just months but for years to further their own destructive power, instead of helping to heal our nation. All of which finally led to this rioting and this insurrection. 

Because sadly, so many people have believed these lies, some being our friends and family. I kept thinking of how we were going to keep our family safe if this hateful violence grew, just like it had in other cities with all the unrest due to the social and racial injustice and inequity of 2020, which we're still reeling from. I also kept thinking about how we're all still in the middle of a pandemic with thousands of people dying every day, while millions of Americans struggle to find work and to feed their families. 

That night at dinner, while Congress reconvened inside the Capitol, we talked to our girls about what had happened. We did our best to keep it balanced and stick to the facts as we knew them. I used another analogy for them: imagine you're in your classroom and the teacher and half the students in class say you stole something from the teacher that was not really stolen. You know you didn't do it, but they get angrier and angrier because they want to believe you did, and so they attack you. 

Not the best explanation, but both girls seemingly nodded in understanding of what we were talking about. Either way, the girls know where we stand ideologically and politically. They just didn't understand how people could do that, though, just like when we talked with them about the rioting violence last year. 

The difference being this -- angry black people with no entitlement who initially peacefully protested about systemic racism and the history of violence against them (verified) that unfortunately turned violent, which we found unacceptable -- versus angry white people with entitlement who initially protested not-so peacefully about widespread voter fraud (fabricated) who were then encouraged to be violent, which we find unacceptable. 

But after days of feeling this way, my own anger turned into heartache and tears. Why do so many people, including people we know, believe these destructive lies and conspiracy theories, with little if any factual basis? 

Last summer I remember there was someone I knew who shared a social media meme filled with conspiracy theories and lies so outlandish, that I couldn't verify any of them anywhere. I then asked if she really believed all these things she posted. She said she did. 

And now we're here today, with not only the thousands who rioted at the Capitol, but also with the millions who have been all in on some level of these lies. All political commentary aside, these past few days I've worked hard to strip away as much of the emotional stain of this tragedy as possible. I truly want to understand why people believe in these dangerous untruths. How are we going to communicate otherwise?

That's not to say I don't have my own biases and beliefs that may prompt similar "why" questions from others. We all do. And we justify them with confirmation bias in the light of whatever we read or witness, regardless of contrary facts. But I still do my best to verify what I see and hear with multiple credible sources.

As I was writing this piece, I read an American Psychological Association (APA) article titled Why We Believe Alternate Facts. It helped me clarify what I've really been wanting to ask. And not just due to recent events of the past few days, but for a lifetime of questions I've had. 

The question to ask isn't "why do people believe what they believe?" -- it's to ask "why do they want to believe what they believe?" Ah, yes. That's it. Why do they want to believe.

It always comes full circle for me, back to patriarchy, of men systematically marginalizing women and people of color to dominate and rule. I've written about the power of patriarchy more than once, and how I still struggle at times with feeling emasculated. I've known many white men (and women) over the years, who have struggled with the fact that other women and people of color have fought for their own equality, who continue to fight, which in turn makes the white men feel marginalized. Instead of becoming part of the new equality solution over the decades and doing something to better themselves, their families and their communities, they would rather rage at the changes and those they've dominated over for a very long time. White racist leaders are especially guilty of this and stoke the fires of hate readily.

For example, this lie: due to widespread voter fraud by the Democrats, liberals, black people, brown people, women, etc., their take-no-shit no-apology President, who celebrated their male-dominant white entitlement over and over again, was taken from them. 

That's why they want to believe the election lies. Why they think they're being patriots, like what one journalist overheard a woman at the Capitol riot who said to a small group, "This is not America. They’re shooting at us. They’re supposed to shoot BLM, but they’re shooting the patriots."

Someone I'm reading more of these days is Jackson Katz, Ph.D. who's known internationally for his  scholarship and activism on issues of gender, race and violence. He was interviewed in the aftermath of the insurrection and said:

I was obviously outraged and concerned as an American citizen, but I also experienced Wednesday’s events through the lens of media spectacle: a throng of aggrieved white men, and some women in supporting roles, engaged in a pathetic display of performative patriotism and masculine bravado while the whole world was watching.

In many ways it was a perfect distillation of the essence of Trumpism: heavy on grievance, symbolism and perceived victimhood, and light on any realistic strategy for doing anything to solve our society’s myriad and complex problems in the 21st century—including the problems of millions of frustrated and alienated white men.

It's also what the sociologist Michael Kimmel has called aggrieved entitlement:

Men get stuck in a permanent dysfunction called “aggrieved entitlement,” in which they “refuse to even be dragged kicking and screaming into that inevitable future” of greater gender and racial equality. 

Again, my anger turns to sadness; this patriarchal behavior will continue. And I will continue to rage at my own white male-dominant upbringing because of it. But I also want to help be part of the solution, to help other men unravel from generations of hateful knots we all choke on. 

Even with those of us unraveling, it will most likely be decades before we can fully undo "aggrieved entitlement" and evolve socially, culturally and spiritually. My heart aches for America, for all its communities and families from all backgrounds. My heart aches for those men (and women) who want to believe destructive lies, and for those of us who don't. 

My wife Amy shared her 2021 intentions recently that included her continued love for family without judgement and to continue on her empathic spiritual journey. I agree with her, and include both family and friends in those intentions, even though these days sustaining strained relationships with eyes of love isn't easy. However, it is what's essential and necessary for all our futures, especially our children's, and why I'll keep evolving in inclusive light and love, while helping other men (and women) do the same. 

Sunday, January 3, 2021

A Family That Just Happens To Be Human

"I have everything but I feel like nothing at all
There's no risky thing for a man who's determined to fall..."


I thought it was the trigger. When she said, "What's it to you?" 

What my wife Amy said to me wasn't meant to be mean. A little ornery, but not purposefully mean. It was more defensive posturing based on what I said to her and our two girls. And yet, the moment quickly erupted with the heat of a roaring fire. 

It was just about taking baths, for God's sake. Our girls they take baths every day. Sometimes twice a day.

I do not. That's a lot of water and energy to heat the water every day. And after dinner every night when I'm doing the dishes and loading the dishwasher and the girls are taking their usual one bath per day, sometimes they run the hot water too much and I end up with lukewarm water to rinse the dishes with. That bugs me. 

On one level it's a dad thing, being concerned about water and power, although these regular baths haven't pushed up our water or power bills at all (heating my garage office with an electric heater actually does that).

So after dinner one night the two baths issue came up. I had already been complaining for a few weeks about losing hot water after dinner.

And that's when I said, "The girls cannot take two baths a day."

"Yes, we can!" the girls said together. 

Then Amy said, "What's it to you?"

Which was to me. Then I said, "Then you pay the bills, Amy!"

That outburst shocked Amy and the girls. Things escalated further with the f-word and pounding the table and yelling from both of us. Beatrice and Bryce looking surprised and a little scared. Although it wasn't the first time we've fought, we haven't had many of them over the years. Disagreements, yes, but heated fights, not so much. Even in the year of COVID-19 and stay-at-home orders and distance learning and everybody in the house all the time, not at all. Until now.

Thankfully I checked myself and used my own Kidpower version of "calm down power." I took a deep breath and just let it go. I understood that in these times of intense emotional triggers, the eruption duration leads to further escalation, and there's a split-second when the angry maw could consume us all. Amy told the girls to go upstairs and take their baths. As they quickly climbed the stairs, I apologized to Amy and even tried to joke that I should call Irene, the executive director and founder of Kidpower, and tell her I needed a remedial course on managing emotional triggers. 

Amy wanted to make sure there was nothing else bothering me. There wasn't. She apologized for her flippant response, and we apologized to each other for escalating the situation, which in reality was a non-situation. 

It wouldn't be until a few days later when I would realize the true trigger wasn't literally what she said, it was more about an ongoing issue for me (and many men) -- the false sense of being emasculated, to be made to feel weaker as a man for usually inane reasons. Patriarchy can be a soul sucker, that's for sure, and that combined with millions years of biology and my very own blue genes, it's a super soul sucker. 

But the beauty of this breakdown is that I was again reminded that I'm married to a loving and strong, emboldened and empathic, independent and interdependent, human being, who just happens to be female. 

That I'm a father of two loving and strong, emboldened and empathic, independent and interdependent, human beings, who just happen to be females. 

That I'm a loving and strong, emboldened and empathic, independent and interdependent, human being, who just happens to be male. 

When the girls came down from their baths, I apologized to them both for how I had acted.

"It's okay, Dad," Bea said.

"Did you call Irene at Kidpower?" Bryce said.

I laughed. "You heard that? Ha! That's funny, Bryce."

"Well, did you?"

I laughed again. "I love you both."

"We love you too, Dad." 

And there it was, another mindful #BhivePower moment in another New Year, and a reminder we're a family that just happens to be human. 


"You're the best thing about me
The best thing that ever happened a boy
You're the best thing about me
I'm the kind of trouble that you enjoy
You're the best thing about me
The best things are easy to destroy
You're the best thing about me
The best thing about me..."