Because I'm Proud to be an American

When I look at our children, our daughters, our teens, I finally see who they'll be as young adults. Really see them. Never in a million years could my wife Amy and I imagined who they'd become. We do the best job we can of parenting them, and the rest, well, it's all them. 

It's enlightening and it's scary simultaneously. Literally to the bone. Enlightening because I couldn't be prouder of the strong, independent, no-nonsense, and empathetic humans they're becoming. Scary because of the world they're becoming all of this in. 

We live in a country that's always held the promise of equality, equity, liberty, and freedom for all, to live and be who we want, within the bounds of our constitution and bill of rights, regardless of our gender, our age, or our race and ethnicity. 

In practice, our history reveals again and again how beaten and bruised that promise has been. But we keep trying to get there, and there are those who keep trying to hold us back. I believe the majority is in the getting there, otherwise this grand democratic republic experiment would be over.

There have been those moments when the experiment teeters on the edge of authoritarianism, where ultimately unchecked power costs us our personal freedoms and works to require strict obedience to those in charge. I'm grateful to have been around the world with my wife and my children and not once have I thought, I do not want to live in a place without inclusive freedom. So, here we are today with our children/teenagers/soon-to-be adults (in a few years -- because time flies) in the middle of another divisive national election. 

What I've always loved about being an American is that, within our Constitution and Bill of Rights boundaries, we can all believe what we want and live the way we want. We may vehemently disagree on the current issues in front of us, but we still have the freedom to disagree, debate, and again, believe what we we want and live the way we want. Maybe along the way we learn to compromise and fully appreciate our shared experiences. At least that's always the aspirational goal and one we impart on our children. 

However, when the ultimate goal is to limit and even eliminate my family's personal freedoms and rights so that we must believe and live the way others want to us to, and compromise all that's afforded to us in the promise of America, then it's no longer an inclusive democratic republic. And here we are again, teetering on that razor's edge.

I have to believe that the majority of us, with or without children, will work together to keep our grand ol' democracy, with all its continuous contradictions, flaws, and historical scars, alive and well. I know my wife and I will. I hope our children will, too. 

Our youngest child, Bryce, a fiercely independent teen who's a little too cynical at this age, always asks why I keep our American flag out on our front porch. 

My response is aways the same (as was my parents), "Because I'm proud to be an American."

Bea's Sweet 16 Beach Party

She loved Teen Beach and Teen Beach 2 when she first watched them years ago. So much so that she still watches them today and sings all the songs verbatim. Fun old school rock and roll musicals with silly plot lines, puppy love, and teen friendship and fun, light and sweet. 

So it was no surprise that our oldest child, Beatrice, wanted her Sweet 16 birthday to be on the beach with her friends. With a fire to gather around and cook hot dogs and s'mores. And to watch a movie on the beach using a projector and a big screen. 

We're grateful that we her parents could do it. And we did, but it didn't quite go as planned. Nothing too bad, just different, the way things can change even with the best of plans in place. My wife Amy is an amazing planner and packer, so we had everything we needed on the beach. Beatrice also helped her mom pack and also put together her big lit up "16" numbers. One of Beatrice's best friends' father, Andrew, also came early with me to set up. 

We've never done anything like this, having a gathering on a beach with a fire pit. Most of the beaches where we live don't allow fires and we had to drive across town to get to one that does. When Andrew and I arrived early to set up, the beach was more populated that I would have anticipated, especially on a cool foggy day such as this one. Plus, all the fire pits were taken. 

The good news was that where we ended up setting up our party "camp" was near another teen party being set up and the family offered to share their fire pit with us. That was great news, and we had the best of both worlds, because we also brought our propane fire pit, so now we had two. We set up the rest of our party area and were ready to go.

Bea's friends arrived and all went well until 45 minutes into the movie when the projector battery ran out. It was supposed to last up to three hours on a charge. Nope. Didn't happen. Luckily the 25 teens who came to celebrate with Beatrice were just fine talking, laughing, running around, listening to music, and snacking on hot dogs, chips, candy, soda, and cookies -- perfect teen grub. 

Originally, the chairs we brought and the propane fire pit were supposed to be for Amy and I and our two pod families of old (friends and their kids we hung out together with during the pandemic), but the teens claimed them immediately after they got there. We could've kicked them out, but we were just the caterers, and this was for Beatrice and her friends. We all survived and did get a couple of chairs back later in the night. Our friends brought their own fun "air" bean bags to sit and lay on. 

Even though not everything went as planned, Bea's Sweet 16 beach party was still a hit. Her friends had a blast and thanked Amy and I over and over again. Like Bea's favorite old Teen Beach movies, she made her own memories of teen friendship and fun, light and sweet. That's all we wanted for her and we're grateful the universe obliged. 

I'm the Luckiest

I flung my paper airplane over the balcony and watched as it made a two-foot circle and landed near my feet. The people in the seats near me laughed and clapped their hands. Someone said, "Go on, try again -- you can get the trajectory right." 

I smiled, shook my head, and returned to my seat next to my wife Amy. I asked her if she saw my epic fail, and she laughed and nodded. To be fair to me, I knew my paper airplane didn't have a chance to make to make it to the stage. Not because it was too far away; there were others throwing from the balcony who made it. I just forgot how to make my paper airplane more streamlined. Mine was riddled with mis-folds and a mistrust from the beginning that it wouldn't fly very far. And it didn't.

It was a fun date night for Amy and I, though. We went to see the Ben Folds, a singer-songwriter, amazing pianist, and alt-rock legend from the 1990's. He's one of my favorites and we were not disappointed. It was just him and a piano, no band. This was his Paper Airplane Request Tour, meaning, during the second half of the show, you could write requests on a piece of paper, fold it into a paper airplane, and try to get it to fly onto the stage. He would then pick them up randomly and decide to play the request or not. 

But through all the great music, something bothered me. Something that had happened earlier in the week. There was a teenage boy who attended our daughter Beatrice's high school who had committed suicide. He was a junior and a football player, but other than that, we didn't know him or his family. It was still so sad. We talked about it at dinner with both our kids, of course reminding them that they could always talk with us about anything. 

The next day at school Beatrice told us that the boy's suicide impacted many of the students and the teachers alike. She said it was a somber day and was glad to be home for the weekend. I told both Beatrice and her sister Bryce that I had a good friend take his own life the year after I finished high school. It was the first funeral I had ever attended and I was one of the pallbearers, too. That part I didn't tell them, only because it was sad enough discussing suicide with our teens. 

One in five high school students seriously considered attempting suicide in 2023, according to data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC). We feel like we have open and solid relationships with our teens, but it's something we think about when our kids struggle with anxiety and stress. Something I didn't tell my kids yet is that I was that junior high school student once who was dealing with a lot of anxiety and overwhelming existential darkness that I didn't understand at the time. Suicide was an alternative that crossed my mind.

Luckily, I didn't end my life, even though luck didn't have much to do with it. Deep down I knew I wanted to live, but it would take a lot more anxiety, flailing introspection, poor choices, help from others, and over a decade later to get it all together. By my early 30's the trajectory of my life had already changed dramatically, and after I met Amy, I continued to heal mentally and spiritually. There were still up and downs, but finally more ups than downs. Ups I manifested and were grateful for.

Which brings me back to seeing Ben Folds with Amy. One of the songs he played is called "Still Fighting It" and it's about having children and all the things you go through again with them that you experienced growing up. That one always makes me tear up about our own children now, and my heart ached again for the family whose high school son committed suicide last week. Blessings to him and to them. 

The song I wrote down on the paper that I turned into an ill-fated paper airplane was "The Luckiest" -- one of my favorite songs from Ben Folds and one that reminds me of my relationship with Amy. My paper airplane didn't make it to the stage, but luckily that was the next song he played. I was grateful to be there in that moment with my wife, just as I'm grateful to be present in every moment possible with our children, going through all the things with them that we went through when we were their age. 

I'm not sure I've ever believed in luck, but I do know that I'm the luckiest. 

"...And where was I before the day
That I first saw your lovely face?
Now I see it everyday
And I know..."

Blessings to Our Teachers Everywhere

"Who's your favorite teacher?" our youngest Bryce asked me.

"I don't have a favorite," I answered. "I like them all."

"This guy," Bryce said. This is their new humorous response equivalent to saying, "C'mon, you can do better than that."

Bryce pressed further. "How would you rate them all on a scale of 1 to 10?"

"I wouldn't," I said. "Again, I like them all."

"What about my teachers?" our oldest Beatrice asked. "How would you rate them?"

"Again, I wouldn't."

"This guy."

This was the conversation with our teens after my wife Amy and I went to both their back-to-school open houses, with Bryce now in middle school and Beatrice in high school. I did ultimately acquiesce to Bryce's demand and rate each of her teachers (they all got high marks, by the way), but Beatrice didn't want any specific number ratings, just a nod that we liked her teachers. 

Which we did. Both open house visits were great. In fact, one of Beatrice's teachers felt like this was one of the best parental turnouts since before COVID-19. Distance learning was difficult to manage for everyone and many kids fell behind. We were fortunate to be able to work from home and support our kids while they learned from home, and today we've thankfully been back in the classroom for a few years now. 

We've gone to our teens' open houses every year, virtually and in person, and are always excited to hear when their teachers have in store and what they'll be learning throughout the year. From preschool to now, our children have had a quality education and the enduring support of teachers and staff. Besides the preschool that we paid for, from kindergarten onward, the public education system continues to be foundational to our republic. 

Our third president, Thomas Jefferson, believed that educated citizens made the American experiment of self-government a success. He advocated for free and public education for all that was radical in his day, even if it took a lot longer for enslaved black people and women to experience it for themselves. There are educational options for families today, but not all are accessible or affordable for all like the public education system.

As we sat in each of our kids' classes during their middle and high school open houses, we heard more than just what was in the teachers' syllabuses. We heard their teachers' hopeful enthusiasm that every child will have the opportunity to learn and grow in their classes, and that they will do everything they can to ensure every child will have the support and resources they need. Not always easy for teachers and the public education system to do, but it's still the cornerstone of our democracy, enabling education for all regardless of social status, gender, race, ethnicity, or sexual orientation. 

Beatrice and Bryce may not like school every day, but they do appreciate their teachers. When I reflect on them wanting to know how we'd rate their teachers this year, I give them all 10's. Yes, we're still making up for learning deficits and our teachers are working hard to close those gaps. This Labor Day, blessings to our teachers everywhere.