Deeply Rooted

We always wanted to do things our own way when we first got together. We wanted to travel. We wanted to get married and do our own wedding. My wife Amy wanted to keep her own name and not take mine. We didn't want to have children (until we did). Our families didn't really understand or agree with some our choices, but we were accepted nonetheless. (And that went the other way, too.) 

We were also always more progressive with our politics, especially on social issues. We were (and are) always more supportive of programs that help those marginalized in our society -- people experiencing homelessness, people experiencing poverty, women, children, people of color, LGBTQ people, neurodivergent people, and others. We believe that everyone has the right to be emotionally, psychologically, and physically safe, sound, and supported. Our families didn't always understand or agree with this either, but empathy remained (in reverse as well). Before Amy and I even knew each other, she loved the themes of individuality and tolerance in Marlo Thomas's Free to Be...You and Me and I loved the empathy and inclusivity of Sesame Street. 

Of course we've raised our children with these same values, because we can in America. We live in a country that's supposed to celebrate and protect these values, as well as those counter to ours. We live in a country that's supposed to protect our individual liberties, guaranteed by the 14th amendment. An amendment that was ratified on July 9, 1868, and that was supposed to extend liberties and rights granted by the Bill of Rights to formerly enslaved people. But it was also historically a time when those marginalized in our society didn't have the same supportive programs, and laws, that exist today.

Although we're saddened by the Supreme Court's decision to overturn Roe v. Wade and give the states the authority to regulate abortion and taking away the constitutional right for women to choose, this post isn't about that specifically. It's about the broader progressive theme outlined above and this:

The Constitution protects some rights that are not specifically mentioned in the Constitution, but only rights that are “deeply rooted in this Nation’s history and tradition.”

This is part of Supreme Court Justice Alito's rationale of why some liberties should be protected while others shouldn't be. When you think about that phrase, "deeply rooted in this Nation's history and tradition," and then imagine living in America in 1868, right after the Civil War, none of the marginalized people listed above were deeply rooted. Many had no rights whatsoever and were considered unlawful, regardless of the Bill of Rights and the 14th amendment.

Today, instead of ensuring our promised citizen liberties for all, what's still "deeply rooted in this Nation's history and tradition" is patriarchy, white supremacy, racism, discrimination, misogyny, sexism, and inequality. We were supposed to be better than this; were supposed to make progress; were supposed to find compromise in our differences; were supposed to figure out a more perfect union. 

There are those of us who feel like any progress we've made is slipping away. Voter turnout was lower than ever in many of the primaries this year. If the majority really feel that this country is no longer "we the people," then all liberties and freedoms are potentially lost to those who only care about power and control. 

Amy and I may be a long way from Free to Be...You and Me and Sesame Street, but our liberties and freedoms don't have to be lost -- we vote, we volunteer, we speak out, we get involved, we fight for positive change, we work together regardless of our differences. Our hope is that more of us, including our own children, become our best future prevention offensive to ensure that everyone has the right to be emotionally, psychologically, and physically safe, sound, supported, and are afforded the opportunities to grow and thrive. These are the liberties and freedoms we want to be "deeply rooted" in America today and tomorrow and will continue to strive for.

Their Daily Melodies

I remember holding our daughters after they were born. And every time I held them after that, I was in awe of their breathing, and then eventually their babbling. Listening to them was like a daily mindful meditation. Their peaceful sleep with eyes shut tight and their alert awareness with eyes wide open. These tiny creatures were completely dependent on us to keep them safe and alive. I held them and loved them more than I ever could've imagined. 

Because for many years prior to that, I never imagined holding my own babies. Neither did my wife Amy. We just didn't want to have children. After we each grew up in our own unstable environments, bringing a child into the world just wasn't something we wanted to do. We just wanted to enjoy our lives together and see the world. 

I had crappy father role models, too. An abusive birth father who berated and beat my mother. An abusive first stepfather who terrorized my mother and sister and sexually assaulted me. But even when we found the father we never had in our second stepfather, the one who's name we took, the one who loved and cared for us as his own, it wasn't enough to convince me that I could do the same someday. Or, would want to do the same someday.

One of the many things my dad (second stepfather) instilled in me was listening. Just listening. Without judgment. And sometimes without even talking, because listening was more than verbal. This was especially important during our teenage years, which were the years shortly after our mom and him had gotten together and married. As teens, we didn't think anyone was listening, especially our parents, but Dad listened well. He still was dad, though, and every single time I'd lock my keys in my car as a teenager, which I did a lot, he'd shake his head and say, "Oh, son." And then curse a little and explain to me how and why I should better manage my keys.

When my mom couldn't help herself being reactive and judgmental about a situation, my dad usually could do the opposite. He would listen and was very thoughtful and measured in his response to whatever the situation was. What I didn't realize until over two decades later was how much his listening impacted me. 

Amy and I eventually changed our minds about having children and we're so grateful we did. Back then, we'd been listening to each other without really talking literally about having kids. Like my dad taught me, both verbal and non-verbal listening are key to quality committed relationships -- from spouses to children to friends to any relationship. Holding our newborns and then watching them grow and thrive as children and now to being practically teens has flown by, but we've also celebrated and lived within every moment, which slows time dramatically. 

We actually control life's tempo more than we think we do. It's like me finally learning how to play the drums. It's not just speed or complexity of the literal sequenced beats on the snare, toms, high-hat, and symbols that are important, it's also the empty spaces in between the beats, the rests that connect all the notes. Combined, these music measures are what tell the entire story. If you're listening that is. Our now practically teens may not think we're always listening to them, but we are, and listening to their daily melodies resonates with our deepest love. 

Thank you, Dad. And to grateful "listening" fathers everywhere, Happy Father's Day. 

Our Best Future Prevention Offensive

When I dropped her off at leadership camp, and she gave me a thumbs up at the building door before she went in, I was so proud. She'd been nervous for days and my wife Amy helped prep her of what to expect by having her read through the provided camp materials ahead of time. We both gave her advice on how to be herself around others, the possible icebreakers they may do on day one. No matter how much she knows, the new unknown is stressful for her (just like it was for me at her age).  

Day one came and went and Beatrice our oldest at 13 did just fine, getting to know the other students and her teachers throughout the rest of the week. This leadership camp was to prep her to become junior leader for a summer day camp where she'll be working with kids 7 and 8 years old. Part of her prep training was mandated reporter training, to be able to recognize and report child abuse. There were specific examples and statistics she'd never seen before.

This was eye-opening for her, to learn what happens to some kids growing up. Of course, she's grown up practicing Kidpower as a family and all the emotional, psychological, and physical safety skills it teaches. But that was more hypothetical situations, what happens if. Because both our children are only now becoming more aware of the world around them, they have more specific questions for us as to why people do horrific things to others. 

Beatrice and the other leadership students also had active shooter training. This year alone there have been over 250 mass shootings, and we're not quite halfway through the year. When I wrote about Bryce's 5th grade graduation just a few weeks earlier, there were just over 210. This is a devastating reality for Americans today and our children specifically. 

Of course we don't want our kids (or us) to live in fear everyday in this country, but it is important now more than ever to keep them (and us) educated about personal safety skills. In a polarized world of divisive social and political issues, of ongoing misogyny and patriarchy inciting mostly young boys and men to violence, we are a tinderbox full of deadly fireworks always aflame. 

Which is one reason why I wanted to watch the January 6 committee primetime hearing at dinner with my family. I watched it happened live in 2021 and am still haunted by all the hate and the ultimate coordinated goal of a fascist overthrow. When the committee hearing showed how the day played out on video, how it escalated when the mob attacked the U.S. Capitol police and then the Capitol itself, our children were mortified and wanted to know how this could happen in America. 

That was a tough one for me. The good news is that we've helped our children understand that in America people have the 1st amendment right to speak their minds. We've helped them to understand the differences between the peaceful protests that we've been a part of as a family, and those that spiral into chaos and violence. We've also helped them to understand the differences between truth and lies, inclusion and oppression, empowerment and control. 

No matter our own biases that may get in the way of helping our children understand the world, the burden is still on us to keep our children educated and safe, to support their individuality and continuous growth, and to encourage them to be fair and compassionate people. Beatrice going to leadership camp to work with younger children is definitely a plus. From child abuse, to intimate partner violence, to gun violence, to hate-filled insurrections, our children are our best future prevention offensive. 

Nature's Ride Just Is

The final set of stairs went straight up to the top of Diamond Head. 

“I’m done,” said Bryce, our youngest child. “I’m not going any farther.”

“C’mon, Bryce,” I said. “We’re so close to the top now. You can do it.”

“No, I can’t.”

I knew that look. We’d seen it before on both our kids’ faces time and time again. 

“Why do you guys like hiking so much,” our oldest Beatrice said to both me and her mother, Amy. It wasn't a question; she was annoyed. 

“Because we like to be active and exercise and see the pretty views when we travel,” Amy said. “Take a drink and a rest right now and then we’ll go up.”

“I’m not going,” Bryce insisted. “My head hurts.”

“You both hike 10 miles when we go to Disneyland, and this isn’t even two miles,” I said.

Beatrice shrugged. “Yeah, but we get rewarded along the way – there are rides and treats to eat and we take a lot of breaks.”

“But this is nature’s ride, Bea. And the payoff is going be the view.”

“That's right, nature's ride,” Amy said. 

“I don't want to do it,” Bryce said.

Amy looked at our children, then at me. “Kevin, go ahead and go and I’ll wait with Bryce.”

I sighed. “Bea, do you still want to go up with me? Then you can come back down so Mom can come up with me.”

Beatrice thought about it for a moment, then shrugged again. “Sure, I’ll go up.”

The two of us finished hiking the stairs and made to the top. Bea took a few pictures.

“I don’t feel so good,” she said. “My stomach hurts.” 

“Sorry, sweetie. Go ahead and go back down and tell your mom to come up.”

“Okay.” 

I waited for Amy and soaked in the view. The Pacific Ocean. Waikiki Beach. Honolulu. The Diamond Head dormant volcanic crater behind us. Gorgeous. I was hot and sweaty but the hike was totally worth all this. 

This was our latest family vacation, the first one outside of our trailer camper since covid, and although we’re a close family, we don’t always see eye to eye about things we want to do, places we want to eat, things we want to see. Especially now that we have a tween and a teen in our midst, seemingly always having a headache, or a stomachache, or they’re tired, or they’re hangry (hungry and grumpy), and they just want to stay in the room on their devices. Getting them to go on hikes with us is no easy task, and we sometimes entice with getting treats or going shopping afterwards.

But even parental bribery doesn’t always work. Close-quartered family dynamics on vacation can be like a box of fireworks lighting up; the kids' grumpiness can set off our Mom-and-Dad grumpiness and emotions flare and burst. I'm especially guilty of that. Fortunately, those times are short-lived and we’re back to enjoying (mostly) our vacation activities. Plus, there’s plenty of needed downtime and recharge time for all of us. 

No matter the occasional family angst, we're very grateful we were able to take this latest trip together. Amy and I stood at the top of Diamond Head, with the girls just below us, and agreed that this was the payoff of nature's ride (as opposed to a Disneyland ride), and the answer to Bea's question of why we like being active on vacation and hiking so much. In fact, much of how we live is experiencing nature's ride in a variety of ways, and none of it is an absolute of good or bad, it just is, and we continually work on not taking everything so seriously. Especially after the sucky end of year that Bryce had (and then how she made the best of it).

That one is always tough for me, not taking everything so seriously, because my ego is always applying value judgements to what happens in life. But as I learned during a vacation meditation, “Seriousness is just the ego feeling sorry for itself," and all these experiences we have as a family and individually build on each like the corral reefs we saw far below us; it's the growth of being. Nature's ride just is.