Appreciate Awards For All

Nearly two months before the holidays, our youngest daughter Bryce wanted an award. Not for herself, but for her 5th grade teacher, Mr. B.

I was ordering trophies for her and her soccer teammates, and she asked if we could order an appreciation award for her teacher. One she'd give to him before the holiday break began. She really enjoys her class and her teacher, and so we agreed. She helped pick out the award out and we ordered it. 

Like many school-age kids everywhere, the upside-down pandemic world continues to impact their education and their mental health. Thankfully, we've been back to in-person school this school year, and even with the Omicron surge, went back to in-person after the holidays. That hasn't been the case for many public school districts in California and across the country. 

In California, more than 65,000 students and staff tested positive for COVID-19 after the holidays. This happened nearly everywhere, and teachers everywhere are burnt out, sick, quitting, and not going back, and lawmakers are rewriting hiring rules and lowering requirements to fill teacher vacancies. 

The negative emotional and psychological impact on children, parents, teachers, and administrators have been significant. We're all trying to right ourselves from flipping upside-down so many times since March 2020. Already teachers struggle with more behavioral problems in the classroom that weren't there pre-covid. Our own children did okay during distance learning and integrating back into in-person school, but so many fell behind and mental health issue abound. Even with more learning choices for families today, our children's education will never be the same. 

This is why losing a beloved teacher like we did during the holidays was so much more devastating to our school community in addtion to all the pandemic trauma. And why it was more bittersweet after my wife Amy had put together teacher-appreciation holiday gifts with supportive notes from our daughters at the end of last year, which they gave to each of the their teachers personally. And why Bryce wanted to give her teacher a very special award. 

Everyone is struggling on some level due to the disruption that seems to be never-ending. Regardless of how or where your kids go to school, don't forget that as parents, we're their teachers, too. Everything we do or say, our kids absorb and model, so blaming broken systems and burnt out teachers isn't helpful. 

I grew up with the competitive criticism that not everyone deserves an award. But for teachers, healthcare professionals, and essential workers everywhere -- along with parents, especially those who are also these very essential workers -- there should be appreciation awards for all with notes of nurturing and support. Blessings to you all.

Love Letters

"Hold on, nothing's the same
Tell me why I feel this way
Life wouldn't be worth living without you..."

–Santana, Hold On

I wasn't sure what I did wrong. But I did something, because she was mad.

"Dad, why don't you listen to me the first time!"

That was Beatrice, our oldest daughter.

"Rude, Bea-Bea. Just rude."

That was Bryce, our youngest daughter.

I had picked them both up from school after their musical theater class where they were rehearsing a Frozen Sing-Along for Christmas.

"Dad, didn't you hear me the first time!"

Ah, right. I didn't listen to her. That's what I did wrong. Thinking about work after I had asked her about her day.

"Sorry, Bea. Just tell me again, please."

Silence.

"Come one, Bea. Just tell Dad," said Bryce.

Bryce has become my champion of late, and Beatrice champions Mom.

"I'll just wait and tell Mom," Bea said.

"Beatrice, just tell me again. I'm listening."

Silence. And then:

"Okay. Today I..."

Thinking about work again. So much to do. Big year coming in 2020.

"Dad, did you hear me?"

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Say that again."

"Dad! C'mon! You're not listening to me!"

"Dad, you need to listen to Beatrice."

Even Bryce couldn't have my back this time.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Please, tell me again."

Silence. Bea wouldn't talk with me the rest of the way home. Bryce tried to play with her, but got no response.

The ride home was less than 10 minutes, but the last few minutes were forever, because I did feel bad that I had disappointed. I do try to be present for my kids and sometimes it doesn't always work out that way. Sometimes the adulting in progress sweeps you away by worrying about the past and the future. Like driving your kids home, when you have to check the rearview mirror and keep looking forward in order to get everyone home safely. That shouldn't mean you compromise the present by not being present, but until a car is fully robotic and self-driving, then you definitely have to watch the road.

Still, no excuse for not listening to my daughter when I'm thinking about other things as well as driving. Productive multitasking may not be a scientific reality, but the idea of it is still a parental one. We got home and Beatrice fumed for awhile, not willing to talk about much, even with Mom. We all ate dinner together and then shortly after that, when Bryce and Mom went upstairs, Beatrice walked over to me.

"I'm sorry I was mad, Dad," she said. "I'm thankful for you."

She gave me a hug. My heart swelled and lifted me into the air. Sometimes this little human is mature beyond her years with an empathic awareness that so many adults woefully lack today.

"Thank you, Beatrice. I'm sorry I didn't listen. I'm grateful for you."

In fact, we've all been practicing purposeful thankfulness for well over a year now, where each week we make time to share compliments, gratitude, appreciation and "noticing" -- something nice we notice about each other and/or ourselves that we share as a family. Where we detach from our egos and empower the now again of mutual respect, love and understanding. We also write them down in a family journal as a remembrance of our gratitude.

Nothing will ever be the same again today or tomorrow or the next day. I will no doubt not listen again to my girls, and we all will have future misunderstandings, and yet, each and every day with my family is a love letter I mail to my heart, open with glee, and read again and again and again. Amen.

I am so grateful for them.