No Harmless Joke

We used the f-word all the time. We threw it at each other like teasing darts, meant to sting and leave a mark. We also knew other people who used the f-word to make others feel less than human, a filthy sub-species that wasn't worthy to bask in the same circles or sunlight as them. 

That may seem dramatic, but it was more than true, going all the way back to grade school for me and my friends. The usage became especially prevalent in junior high and high school. It continued for years after high school as well. It was about men minimizing other men, to demasculinize each other. When we used it against each other, we never thought about its origin or why it was ultimately offensive. And when it was between us, we were only joking with each other. 

It was only a harmless joke. C'mon.

The f-word I'm talking about is faggot. Including any derivative or tangential equivalent like "you're so gay".

Let's go back in time. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the morpheme comes from the French fagot, which means a small bundle of bound-together sticks to be used as kindling. 

By the mid-16th century, the word had become associated with the burning alive of heretics and was used in callous phrases such as "fry a faggot." 

By the 1800s, the term was also being used to refer derogatorily to women. The modern term may have come from these origins, but the etymology is in dispute.

The Oxford English Dictionary cites a 1914 reference in a book of criminal slang as the first modern American use of faggot as a slur for a homosexual male.

Today the term is listed in most every dictionary as derogatory or offensive.

When I read about the high school incident in Visalia where I grew up, I was disappointed and angered. It was my rival high school when I was a teenager, but that was decades ago and nothing like this happened then that I remember. 

A group of senior students, some who were part of the ASB student leadership, spelled out a homophobic slur with the t-shirts they were wearing. 

According to the news reporting, the picture of them doing this was taken during school hours, immediately following a senior class photo shoot. In the senior photo, the shirts spelled out "Class of 2026 Always Legit," before they rearranged the letters to say the derogatory word.

It seems to have been prompted by the fact that the seniors were leading an eight-grade orientation on when some ASB leaders reacted to two middle-school boys holding hands. Then later in the day, a small group of eight ASB students – male and female, made shirts to spell out “2 FAG6OTS” while seating next to each other on the bleachers.

Student leadership did this. During school hours. In front of the entire student body, teachers, and administration. 

The Visalia Unified Superintendent said, "This is unacceptable behavior and this matter is being thoroughly investigated and appropriate action will be taken."

He added, "Every student deserves to feel respected, protected, and valued on our campuses. We will continue working to ensure our schools are places where dignity, belonging, and accountability guide our actions."

I also read that one of the students' parents was quoted anonymously that "we will deal with them; they didn't mean any harm".

I ask the parents of these kids -- then why did they do it in the first place? Why did they think it was okay? The problem with privileged circular logic is that some of them probably do believe it was a harmless joke. 

When some of my friends in high school egged another friend's house, him and his parents were very hurt. My parents were very upset and disappointed in us. I was upset and disappointed in us. But some of the other fathers didn't care and chalked it up as harmless teen fun. 

Back in the day, my friends and I also rationalized it as harmless joking amongst ourselves. We thought we were pretty good guys who just teased each other relentlessly. It took many years after high school for us to understand how cruel and offensive it was using gay slurs, ethnic slurs, female slurs, etc., and we finally changed our behavior. We never spelled out a slur with our t-shirts at a school function, but that didn't make our behavior any less hurtful if others knew what we said.

Many of us went on to have families of our own. My wife and I have two daughters, both in high school now, and our youngest identifies as non-binary and is gay. Something they knew since they were in the 4th grade. Something we've accepted fully because we love our children and fully support them in being who they are and becoming happy and healthy adults. I believe that's true with most parents. 

We now live in a country whose leadership openly and unapologetically practices discrimination, humiliation, cruelty, misogyny, and harassment of historically marginalized populations. Masked in the guise of equality and unity. Thankfully most of us pushing back against the offensive and dehumanizing rhetoric and actions.

So again, I ask the parents of the students who spelled out the homophobic slur at the school function, and the students themselves who did it (some of whom were ASB leaders): Why did they/you do it in the first place? Why did they/you think it was okay? What should the consequences be? What's the learning opportunity here, the empathic growth opportunity for all involved? 

It's no harmless joke, kids. Everyone deserves to feel respected, protected, and valued. Even those we don't like and disagree with. No one deserves their humanity and rights minimized based on gender, race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, or religion. As the parents and the adults in the room, we can and should do better for our kids. For all the kids. 

Encourage and Empower

Our oldest daughter Beatrice said some of her friends wanted to work at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk this summer and she was kind of interested, too.

"But you're only 14," I said. "I thought you had to be 16." 

"I guess you can get a work permit with parental approval for some positions when you're 14," my wife Amy said. 

"Got it," I said. "But Beatrice, I thought you wanted to be a junior leader again at the day camp this summer?"

"Actually, I do," she said. "I'd rather be a junior leader again."

That was music to our ears. Beatrice loves working with kids and she recently completed an online babysitting course. Once she was done, she was ready to get to work, and a dear friend of ours who runs a preschool recommended Bea put a resume together to be shared.

Of course she should, I thought. Considering I run a research organization called Talent Board that helps employers improve their recruiting, hiring, and candidate experience, I wanted to help her. 

"Let's write down your experience, Beatrice," I said.

"I don't really have experience," she said. I knew she was thinking literally about babysitting. 

"Of course you do. You actually have lots of experience that applies here. You were a junior leader at camp. You were a junior leader at the Kids in Nature program."

"I forgot about Kids in Nature," she said.

"You're a 6th grade teacher's assistant in class this semester, too. You definitely have experience."

"Oh yeah, I do."

In fact, Beatrice is interested in becoming a teacher someday, something we're behind 100%. However, while I helped her with her resume, I thought about the trials ahead for her and her sister when looking for a job. I know this all too well in helping organizations measure their job candidate experience, including in education. It's a small universe of organizations year after year that intentionally lean in to improve their recruiting and hiring experience for job candidates. Not everyone is qualified for jobs they're interested in, but everyone deserves a fair and positive experience. 

Developing professional and personal leadership is also something we'll continue to encourage our daughters to do. But I get even more disheartened when I think about what's been happening in the workplace today and the fact that women leaders are leaving the workforce at the highest rate ever. Based on Lean In and McKinsey research I recently found stated that 43% of women leaders reported feeling burned out, compared to 31% of men, according to Lean In and McKinsey data.

This is due to women in senior leadership who face more headwinds than men do, ranging from everyday microaggressions (like being questioned on their expertise) to carrying a greater responsibility in diversity and inclusion initiatives.

After recent progress for women in leadership, workplace burnout is painfully real, but we'll always encourage and empower both our girls to go for what they want to do today and in the future. To expect nothing less than to be treated fairly and positively whether qualified or not. To develop and nurture their leadership skills no matter what headwinds they face. And to not be afraid to put themselves out there and advocate for themselves and for other women.

For now, Beatrice just wants to babysit, so if you need a babysitter, let us know. 😊

Being More Emo

"Oh I get so emotional baby
Every time I think of you
I get so emotional baby
Ain't it shocking what love can do..."

–Whitney Houston, So Emotional

"You know, Bryce, he's so emo," Beatrice said to her sister.

"I know, so emo," Bryce echoed. 

"Who are you talking about and what does that mean?" I asked. "What's the context? Does it mean that the person is too emotional?"

"I don't know," Bryce said. Beatrice didn't answer.

"What do you mean you don't know? You say it all the time."

"Not all the time," Bea said.

Well, maybe not all the time, I thought. But many times a week I hear our girls, now 12 and 14, use that expression.

Most of the time they're using it in a light, self-deprecating way. At least, that's what Bryce ended up telling me. When I told my wife Amy, her Kidpower training popped open and she said we need to talk with them about minimizing other people's emotions using that term. Then she laughed at herself, although still serious.

The term emo literally means "a person who is overly sensitive or emotional." And the term is used to make fun of people who do show their emotions more than others. It can also mean someone who is shy, brooding, and dark and who listens to Emo music, which is a rock music genre, post-hardcore and hardcore punk, characterized by emotional, often confessional lyrics. Not quite Whitney Houston, that's for sure. God, I'm getting old. I had no idea what all this meant when I started looking for answers online. 

Based on what I learned, I've always been emo. Never the toughest guy in the toolshed, I was always sensitive and emotional, although I struggled early on with managing my feelings, expressing myself, asking for help when I needed it. I learned over time that it's empowering being vulnerable, to be able to express my feelings and relate to other's feelings.

When I think about the broader implications of living in a society that does not embrace sharing one's feelings, especially for boys and men, I agree with my wife. We shouldn't minimize other's emotions when they're vulnerable enough to share them, because they most likely need support; we have to meet people where they are. It's much healthier to express how we feel and to be given empathic understanding in kind. Unfortunately, misogynistic societies have always denigrated others for being emotional and caring and why women are the weaker gender and are less than effective leaders than men. 

Of course, that's not true. I've got a household of effective female leaders and am proud that we talk about how we feel, how we manage our emotions, and how we provide love and support to one another and to others. So proud of our BhivePower! Our teen girls know that being more emo is the way to go and to not minimize others who are, or who aren't. 

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. 

From The Loss And The Pride

She wanted to speak, then she didn't want to, and then she did. We're so glad she did because we've never been more proud, even after the wind blew her speech from the podium to the ground. "Oh God" she said with laughter in her voice. A little well-timed (or accidental) levity always goes a long with an audience. 

I saw it all proudly and I wasn't even there. Months earlier I had scheduled a workshop event in Chicago on the same date as Bryce's 5th grade graduation, which almost didn't happen for her because of COVID-19, and it was too late to change it.

If there's one thing that coronavirus changed for the good, it's the fact that we've been virtualizing and streaming important events like graduations for family members and friends who couldn't make it otherwise. The timing for Bryce's graduation was perfect during my work event because there came a point where we broke attendees up into smaller groups with different moderators and I could take a break from moderating the entire thing. 

I had the Zoom link ready to go that Bryce's teacher had sent out. I logged on and had my AirPods in and watched most of the graduation while occasionally checking in on my workshop attendees. At one point I told them all what I was doing (so they didn't think I was simply checked out from them), and how proud I was of my daughter, and a sea of smiles washed back to me. 

Bryce was one of three students from her 5th grade class who volunteered to speak. Listening to her speech inspired me to continue to let go of the ongoing stress and worry about life. She shared how disappointing it was to get covid and miss some of the fun end-of-year events, but that no matter what, she was grateful to be back in the end for graduation to be with all her friends and her teachers. For 10 years both girls went to this elementary school, and Bryce celebrated those years in her speech, just like Beatrice does looking back fondly today. 

We're so grateful to be raising such empathic and resilient humans who are both growing up to be such inspiring leaders. Beatrice with her leadership camp this summer and Bryce with her volunteering to speak to her entire 5th grade class for graduation. I asked my wife Amy later if Bryce wrote her speech all herself, and sure enough she did. 

But throughout my workshop and watching Bryce's 5th grade graduation virtually, the tragic elementary school shooting in Uvalde, Texas, weighed heavily on my heart. Those children who were killed just the day before were looking forward to summer vacations and what life had in store beyond, just like my daughter and all her friends did. Again I told my workshop attendees about how proud I was of my daughter speaking, and at the very end asked them to take a moment of silence and think about how we can work together to prevent these tragedies. And then I cried. 

Uvalde, Buffalo, and the list goes on and on and on. 213 mass shootings so far in 2022. We have to speak up, be advocate leaders on violence prevention, and be part of the solution. I know our girls will be. And that's why I cried, from the loss and the pride. 

Thanks to Mom (and me)

I listened to the future with my back to her and smiled. I didn't want to disrupt my oldest daughter Beatrice as I sat and worked. My wife Amy sat next to her for support while Bea sat in front of the computer answering the virtual interview questions about attending a leadership camp in the summer. Her answers were effortless and delivered with a confidence I hadn't quite expected, but wasn't surprised to hear. 

Thirty minutes earlier I had picked her up at school and she was stressed about the interview for leadership camp. She'd had a long Monday at school that day (Monday's were always a long day for her), and like her father, was full of anxiety about the interview. But unlike her father, she talked through things, looking at the event to come from all vantage points, asking me questions about what they might ask her and how she should respond. So we role played on the way home and practiced her answers. 

Beatrice role played again with her mom when we got home. As I listened, I noted the differences between mom and dad; the fact that mom's demeanor was softer with empathy-laced words that embraced Bea like a supportive hug. 

It's not that I can't be that supportive, but I've always had sharper edges to my approach -- it's either this way or that way; yes or no; black or white. And that's okay, because we both love and care for our children and are supportive in our own ways that our children are grateful for and respond to. 

I listened to the future with my back to her and smiled. Beatrice has always aspired to be a leader, something I was dreadfully afraid of when I was 13 and in 7th grade. I could tell the interviewer was impressed with Bea's maturity and her thoughtful answers. I didn't even have to see my wife's smile to know how she felt, miles wider than mine, the warmth of her pride filling the room with celebratory love. 

She's the mom who's always there for our daughters. Always helping them with their school work and extracurricular activities. Always empowering them with social, emotional, and physical safety skills. Always helping them with friendship issues interpersonal relationships. Always knowing where all the stuff is when all of us ask where is all the stuff. Always making sure they eating healthy at home and everywhere we go. Always helping them understand their changing minds and bodies. Always helping me understand their changing minds and bodies. 

Amy is also always encouraging them to challenge themselves to learn, grow, and be the leaders they're becoming. Yes, I respond in kind, but she's the mom who does it all -- she's the inclusive executive leadership to my old-school middle management, and I love her for that. In fact, our youngest Bryce concurred at the end of our weekly family meeting on Mother's Day by saying, "Mom's the leader -- oh, and Dad does stuff too and takes care of the finance stuff."

Later in the day I said to Amy, "You are the leader, you know. Happy Mother's Day."

She kissed me and said, "We're a team," and I love her for that, too.

The week before Beatrice rocked her virtual leadership camp interview while we listened to the future and smiled. The future thanks to Mom (and me).  

Actionable Blessings

For me, the hardest part has been mitigating the painful absurdity of purposeful misinformation and how it impacts the truth and our children. Cobbling truths together based on verifiable but fragmented facts isn't easy anyway, but when we mislead ourselves and our children due to our reactive beliefs and confirmation bias, we lead them down a dangerous path. The double-speak path of power, control, and suppression.  

Which is why we've always wanted our children to understand the realities of our country's history, our human history. From slavery to Indigenous people to the Civil War to civil rights to women's rights to the Holocaust to 9/11 to COVID-19 to the U.S. Capital insurrection to Russian invaded Ukraine and more -- we've talked about it all, especially when they've asked about it. 

Sure, we have our own political and ideological prejudices that taint our objectivity, but we try to give our children as much information that they can process that's age-appropriate. Because in the years to come, they'll begin to form their own ideologies and perspectives about the world around them and the people around them. 

What I really hope for our daughters is that they can perceive the double-speak of power and control when it discriminates against and suppresses others. That they can perceive the painful absurdity of equating pandemic public health safety mandates to making Jews wear stars during the Holocaust. 

That they can perceive the difference between the hateful violence at the U.S. Capitol and legitimate political discourse. 

That they can perceive the danger of praising of a relentless dictator with a murderous history as a talented and savvy leader. A leader who has now displaced over 360,000 Ukrainians by invading their homeland, a sovereign nation since 1990. 

Imagine that happening here in the U.S. Just thinking about all these things and the many other absurdities that continue to be perpetuated angers and exhausts me. 

We're not going to flee from history with our children's eyes and ears closed, or let them drown in Orwellian and Atwoodian double-speak of power, control, and suppression. We're going to talk about what's happened and what's happening around them in their city, their state, their country, and their world, with as many objective and verifiable facts we can find. We'll give them the opportunities to ask questions, understand as much as they can, and eventually formulate their own perspectives and world views. 

We don't want them to feel bad about being human, but we do want them to be better humans throughout their lives, always with more love, compassion, and actionable blessings.

Today, we send our actionable blessings to the people of Ukraine. 

The Birth of Superhero Mom

Every superhero has an origin story. This one birthed in the high-desert hoodoos of Bryce Canyon National Park in May of 2007. They were just two people in love, nearly 10 years into their relationship, and they were never planning on having children. It just wasn't something either one wanted. Their families didn't quite understand why, but they were resolute in their decision. 

Instead, they wanted to travel the world together. They were on a southwestern road trip, one of many trips they had taken since they met. He'd always thought of her as his muse and guide to be a better man, a better human, his Beatrice, the one who guided Dante through hell, purgatory and into heaven -- in The Divine Comedy. 

On this particular southwest road trip, they visited ruggedly beautiful national parks, hiked everywhere and had a great time together. Maybe it was the Nevada desert where they started in Las Vegas. Or, maybe the harrowing hike they made only halfway to Angel's Landing in Zion National Park. 

Or, maybe it was just that time slowed to a crawl in each step they took exploring every place they stopped, causing some transcendental shift and rift in their space-time continuums. Maybe they were just both thinking more about their future together and what it may look like with children. Not really talking about, just thinking about it. 

Then something more shifted inside of her in Bryce Canyon one night while watching the sunset over the glorious orange-red rocks and hoodoo spires. These rock formations that took millions of years to form, and what have also been called fairy chimneys. Maybe she was inspired by ancient magical hoodoo fairies; maybe we both were. No matter what it was, that was when the superhero was born, although she didn't know it yet.

The week after they returned home from this road trip, they were sitting comfortably at the bar of their favorite watering hole pub, playing Scrabble, drinking beer and eating burgers.

She turned to him and said, "So, do you want to have a baby?"

He paused, then looked up and said, "Sure."

The "they" was "us," and even though the hoodoo magic turned a little anti-dramatic, a year and 4 months later, our oldest Beatrice was born. A year and 11 months after that, Bryce was born. The superhero Mom, my wife Amy, had come to be. A lot of life has passed since then, some of which continues to be documented in this blog, Get Off The Ground. 

Amy does so much for our family. Over the years, whether she was working a job outside of the house or not, she was always working. Is always working. Will always be working. Raising our children. Helping them with school. Cleaning the house. Shopping for groceries. Taking the time to figure out how to fix things around the house that I just want to hire someone to do. And so much more. 

Since March 2020, getting through the day to day pandemic life hasn't been easy for so many people, so many parents with children. And there have been so many women leaving the workforce to take care of their families, a lot more than men have.

We've been grateful as a couple because we fared much better overall. Amy and I were able to work from home this past year. And there's been zero work travel for me, which pre-covid was about two work trips per month. So, both of us being able to work from home was helpful since both our daughters were distance learning from March 2020 to April 2021, and are only now just back to school in person.

And yet, no matter how much I help as Husband and Dad, which I've done and continue to do, she still did and does a lot more, plus working her job at Kidpower. 

Even after all she's done for us, she's Superhero Mom because of how she's always led with eyes of love and empathy. How her powers accelerated after we had our daughters. And then again after she joined Kidpower. How she along with Kidpower instructors from all over the world, many of them mothers, help to empower so many kids, teens and adults with emotional and physical safety skills, boundary setting and more. 

We're both the safetyists for sure, as our girls call us. But without that sunset over those magical hoodoo spires all those years ago, without the birth of Superhero Mom, our family would not be here today. We're blessed to have her love and leadership. Thank you, Amy. We love you.

Men of a Women's Age

"Hey hey hey hey it was the D.N.A. 
Hey hey hey hey that made me this way 
Do you know do you know do you know just how I feel? 
Do you know do you know do you know just how I feel?"

-Queen, Sheer Heart Attack

We didn't completely agree on toxic masculinity, but we were close. Decades of friendship had brought us closer than ever, giving us opportunities like never before to stretch our comfort and maturity with one another, and even more importantly, feeling sound and confident within ourselves.

"I get what you're saying, and agree about the toxicity of sexual harassment and assault, but I'm not going to apologize for being a man," one friend said.

"No one's asking you to do that; I'm not asking you to do that," I said. "You don't have to compromise your gender to be more compassionate and empathic."

"So, what are the positive attributes of masculinity then, according to that research you referenced?" another friend asked.

"Leadership and courage," I answered. "Yes, as men we battle with millions of years of biology and thousands of years of oppressive historical and cultural context, i.e., patriarchy, but we can learn to check ourselves, to be more empathic and caring and sensitive to the needs of not only women, but to each other as men."

They nodded, but we still differed in the definition of masculinity, and the contrast to women, class and race.

But we were close.

Even prior to getting together again as adults this year as we've done nearly every year for 30 years, we'd had discussions about the #MeToo movement, patriarchy and the damage that too many men, especially white men of privilege, have wrought on society, women, children and other men of varying backgrounds and ethnicities.

And yet, it's still been hard for us to unravel from the rationale that "we just can't do or say anything anymore," that we'll be next on the empowered female super bullet train out to the boonies to be ostracized and left for dead.

That's not how I feel in the slightest actually, and I've conveyed that to my best friend of 41 years and our mutual best friends we've had since junior high and high school. It's take me a long time to get here, and yes, I have an amazing and inspiring wife who I've grown with over the years, and now to young children, girls, who also inspire me to be a better man.

Yes, we've come a long way, me and my friends, us men of a consequential age. We've shared our own fumbles and foibles with females over the years. And with each other. We've gone from sharing the masculine exploits of our youth to sharing the stories of marriage, divorce and having children, especially girls. From watching adult movies to watching sad documentaries about adult movies. From watching offensive and inappropriate comedies to discussing vulnerability research of Brené Brown. From teasing about the female period to having to wear protective man pads sometimes. From calling each other gay way too much over the years to finally checking ourselves and being conscience of the derogatory context of that euphemism.

We've been good friends for a long time, which is why it's sad to see such visceral negative comments to the Gillette commercial, the one about men being the best they can be, to not being bullies or harassers. This is why it's so important for men like me and my friends to understand the impact of toxic masculinity and that we don't have to compromise masculine identity, straight or gay.

The article in the LA Times I read recently referenced the new Guidelines for the Psychological Practice with Boys and Men, the first-ever report published by the association aimed at helping practitioners care for their male patients “despite social forces that can harm mental health.” This is the report I shared with my friends.

According to the article: Citing more than 40 years of research, the APA warns against the “masculinity ideology,” which it defines as “a particular constellation of standards that have held sway over large segments of the population, including: anti-femininity, achievement, eschewal of the appearance of weakness, and adventure risk and violence.”

And:

Conforming to the norms of the “masculinity ideology” can result in suppressing emotions and masking distress in young boys as well more risk-taking and aggressive behavior and a lack of willingness to seek out help. The report additionally contends this can lead to traits like homophobia and pave the way for sexual harassment, bullying and violence against others and themselves.

On this, the third consecutive year that the Women's March has happened around the world, full of solidarity and collective action, one that my wife helped organize the first year locally, and that our whole family marched in then and in year two -- I spent the third annual women's march with my best male friends sharing our own evolving feminism.

They may not want to call it that, but we do agree that it's not toxic masculinity. We're men of a women's age, mind you, full of the leadership and courage to help make a difference for us all.


Past posts about these friends of mine:

• Men of a Consequential Age
• Grown Men Friends and Fathers
• Like Men Knowingly Bound to Their Future
• Because That's How It Works With The Guys That Work
• Men of An Unremarkable Age

Unapologetically Stronger

At first it was cute. Our children wanting to work out like us and with us in our garage turned gym. Headbands and wristbands and all. Timing each other to use our elliptical machine for about 10 minutes each -- although never making it to five -- and then kind of using the lightest weights to do a couple of shoulder press somethings and crazy looking bicep curls (with our supervision, of course).

However, the Mama (what I lovingly call my wife) and I don't wear headbands and wristbands while we work out, so we're not really sure where those images came from.

"Bryce, where did you get the idea to wear wristbands and headbands while working out?" I asked.

"Because we watched other people work out on the street wearing them."

"What people?"

"I don't know. People outside."

"It's probably from one of the shows they watch," the Mama said.

I nodded. "Yeah, I think there's a character on The Amazing World of Gumball that wears a headband and wristbands."

Later, I overheard the girls talking about exercising and starting their own gym.

"A long time ago girls weren't allowed to work out and get strong like boys," said Bryce.

"I'm already strong," said Beatrice.

I'm already strong. Right on, Bea. That's been resonating inside me for weeks now. And we're glad both our children, girls, have an innate sense of confidence at these early ages. Still years from tween and teenager land, we help build those callouses and muscle memory while instilling Kidpower awareness, safety skills and strength.

Because even though younger generations of women are doing things in life that previous generations only dreamed of, it still isn't easy. A recent New York Times article about why women struggle in business and attaining leadership positions highlighted:

"Women are often seen as dependable, less often as visionary. Women tend to be less comfortable with self-promotion — and more likely to be criticized when they do grab the spotlight. Men remain threatened by assertive women. Most women are not socialized to be unapologetically competitive. Some women get discouraged and drop out along the way. And many are disproportionately penalized for stumbles."

The line that struck me the most was, "Most women are not socialized to be unapologetically competitive."

Unapologetically competitive. A much more eloquent way of saying cutthroat, dog eat dog, nonempathic sell your mother on the street for sparkly baubles and cash competitive, abusive, sociopathic and violent as a means to an end, or just because the stronger wants to keep the "weaker" in check.

Thankfully I wasn't raised and socialized to be unapologetically competitive, which has been a blessing and a curse throughout my life, with the edge going to blessing (thank you, Mom). And yet, I'm not a women, or a women of color, and so I have no idea of what it's like to do battle with the likes of the unapologetically competitive man. Discrimination and sexual harassment continue to run rampant in Silicon Valley and the startup-investor world.

It doesn't end with business either. In a disturbing report by the Inter-Parliamentary Union titled Sexism, harassment and violence against women parliamentarians, psychological violence affects nearly 82 percent of women parliamentarians from all countries and regions. Among the kinds of psychological violence, 44 percent of those surveyed said they had received threats of death, rape, beatings or abduction during their parliamentary term.

And more recently and closer to home, a US Representative, a man, said of another US Representative, a women, in response to a healthcare policy disagreement, "Let me tell you, somebody needs to go over there to that Senate and snatch a knot in their ass."

I've got a knot for your ass, congressman. Growing up in abusive family situations, perpetrated by men, I find myself completely and unapologetically unsympathetic to men who treat women this way -- in a free market economy, democracy or not -- even if they don't intend any actual physical harm.

And so I love hearing our daughters say I'm already strong, and I'd feel the same way if they were our sons and would want it no other way. In fact, we want them to be unapologetically stronger throughout life in the face of any and all adversity, without ever losing the ability to understand and share the feelings of others. That will be wondrous indeed.

Let's Go All In on Them Instead of Hate

“Half the world hates
What half the world does every day
Half the world waits
While half gets on with it anyway…”

—Rush, Half the World

It was simple, to just have some fun. That's all I wanted us to do that night at soccer practice, including me. I'm the coach, yes, but we needed to play and run around and be a little chaotic. Not hurtful chaotic, just playful chaotic. We raced during dribbling drills. I set up a defensive exercise that turned into a wild scatter-ball chase. Then we scrimmaged and cheered each other on until twilight forced us to wrap it all up, everyone sweaty, tired and full of beaming smiles. It was cathartic for us all, even their parents nervously watching and waiting on the sidelines, wondering what the hell was going to happen next.

The girls didn't talk about it, although one did ask who I voted for. I told her it was a personal decision, and then told her who it was anyway, and she frowned and ran back to play. I never asked for clarity as to why.

Half our world felt marginalized and left behind; half our world feels marginalized and left behind; half our world blames the other. The anger and resentment is real and we've made it okay to hate and hurt again.

Although that's not exactly true, the last part, because the hate and the hurt of scapegoating have never really left us...

Through all the laughter and running around, that's all I could think about during practice, like basking in the sunshine of a clear blue sky 10 feet from a neglected landfill. Regardless of who you voted for in this presidential election, we've again opened an angry wound America has struggled to heal for a long, long time. Too many of us during this campaign accepted bullying behavior and hateful rhetoric, especially from a candidate where half our world went all in on and who is now our national leader.

Sadly, the violent reactions to either side played out before the election and continue to play out now. Hostile acts and protests are rearing their ugly heads across this nation, and even though we're hopers and doers, the Mama and I feel it's only going to get worse before it (hopefully) gets better.

I did try to inject a little levity between us by telling her we read and watch way too many end-of-world stories. She laughed. A little. But we're still worried about what's to come. We admit we feel hoodwinked, gut punched, even assaulted by where our country is now. We don't all have to like where we're at and can voice our opinions about it without violence or hate, because it is still America after all. Half our world tells us that's extreme, that we should get over it, but in all transparency, we won't sit silent for any bullying or violence from either half.

Our girls only gleaned a cursory insight as to what's happened so far and we've done our best to explain what's going on without sharing too much of the violent acts while telling them we'll keep them safe. Thankfully the wisdom and skills we've gained from Kidpower, the global nonprofit leader in personal safety and violence prevention education, have emboldened our empathy, positive strength and safety in our lives.

The founder and executive director of Kidpower, Irene van der Zande, again shared Kidpower's values statement about Inclusion this week (and not a moment too soon):

"We welcome people of any age, culture, religion, race, gender, political belief, nationality, sexual orientation or gender identity, marital status, any kind of disability, or level of income who share our commitment to integrity and safety for everyone and who can join us in upholding our values."

The angry wound forever festers, but we have to get on with it now to make a difference. The Mama and I know it's not all rainbows and unicorns and never has been, but we're not pushovers either -- we will protect our family no matter what. We will also wear the safety pins that say, "If you feel that you're in danger, you're safe with us, no matter what." This is is clear tenet of the Kidpower Protection Promise, that we can and should make to the kids and adults in our lives.

This is on us all now. Let’s do what we can to transform our fear of bullying, violence and abuse into a future of lifelong safety and success. Our children are the most precious resource that we have today, so let's go all in on them instead of hate.

Learning How to Take the Lead and Play Forward

Photo courtesy of Paul Turner

And then she asked me again. "Can I play goalie?"

I took a mental beat and said, "Listen, everybody plays every position on our team. I promise you'll play goalie, but not today. You'll play other positions today."

She wasn't done. "I can't play forward. I not very good at. Please don't make me play forward."

"You're going to play forward."

She gazed out over the soccer field. The game was to start in a few minutes. "I tried to play it last year and I was just too slow. Please don't make me play it."

I took another beat. "Again, everybody rotates on our team so we can learn all the positions. You'll only have to play forward for a few minutes and then I'll move you to defense."

"How long is a few minutes?"

"A few minutes."

"But how long is a few minutes exactly?"

"How about at least six minutes?"

"How about three?"

"No, at least six or seven minutes."

"Ugh. Okay."

"Thank you. Now let's play some soccer."

And so it went with one of my players. And she did a much better job than what she'd give herself credit for. She really did. As did all the girls on our team -- The Blue Flames. Yes, I'm coaching soccer again this year. U10 recreational soccer this time, my team made up of 12 eight and nine-year-old girls including my oldest, Beatrice. We played our first game, and while I'm not really supposed to keep score (again), I do, of course ('cause we won).

But my first priorities coaching are otherwise. I look forward to practicing soccer fundamentals and teamwork and having fun, fun, fun no matter what level their girls are at. That's why everyone will always get a chance to play every game and rotate positions throughout the season. A big plus is that we have really involved parents that feel the same way.

I have such fond memories of playing sports as a child and throughout junior high and high school with many a great coach in my past. Coaches who wanted me to learn new skills and to safe play and teamwork and leadership and to aspire to greatness, no matter my level of play. My own daughter has improved dramatically since last year and is no longer timid in the heat of the moment, kicking and dribbling the ball like it's nobody's business.

The fact that we're free to do this safely on a Saturday morning isn't lost on me, especially on a day later like today in America, the 15th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. And it's not just because of attacks themselves, which were horrific enough for us all then and now, but also the fact that imperfect but necessary democracies like our own are constantly under siege abroad and at home.

Why am I segueing to this dark day in our nation's history? Because I can't get the children out of my head. The children here in America and those around the world whose very lives have been irrevocably changed and those whose very lives are in constant jeopardy every day due to violence, terrorism, war and genocide.

Like the children of those lost on 9/11, where over 3,000 killed and 6,000 injured on that day. Like the children in Allepo, a city in Syria, the epicenter of the worst humanitarian crisis in recent history and a civil war that's killed hundreds of thousands of people over the past five years. Unfortunately this list goes on and on.

God bless them all -- those children lost to violence and those who lost their families to violence and those young and old who live with the memories of it all. Like many of you out there, I'm a hoper and a doer, I really believe we can and do make a positive difference in our children's lives and those around the world. This is again why I support Kidpower, the global nonprofit leader in personal safety and violence prevention education, and September is International Child Protection Month.

It still starts with us, in countries like ours, where we're relatively free to live our own lives and speak our own minds, to challenge the status quo when necessary and to compromise when we need to unify and show true leadership. Where we're able to talk about what happened and why, and where we can still rise above and make a difference for our friends and family, our neighbors down the street and across this great country. We can create the incremental improvements that truly are the catalysts of positive change and progress for our own children, and for others around this fragile world.

Because I want to be able to coach a recreational soccer team of eight and nine-year-old girls who play on Saturday mornings with family and friends cheering us on. Where the only comfort zone the players need to push themselves out of is learning how to take the lead and play forward, not fearing for their very lives.

The Mama spice makes everything nice.

She's the kicker. The zing. The zest. The spice of our lives that's the best.

The Mama.

Yes, I'm subjectively bound by my immense love for this woman, but hear me out.

I remember holding her up as the morning wore on in what would become Beatrice's room, Mama leveraging gravity to bring Bea into our world, summoning a spiritual strength no man has ever experienced nor understood.

Exhausted, helpless and I frustrated, I selfishly channeled anger at those who judged us for not wanting children.

Unproductive as it was, I couldn't help it; then there was the flip-side of the red hot coin bouncing from ear to ear, those who judged us for wanting children.

Her labor welled again and echoed around us, bringing me back to the moment of Mama, midwives and the arduous journey babies have to make.

Early that evening, there was Bea.

I don't want to disparage anyone, though; we love our family and friends and they love us and we wish our mothers the happiest of Mother's Days.

But when I watch my wife with Bea, full with Bryce child, I know she's all in, without compromise or complaint.

As I fly home from a work event, longing to be home, I roll the word's around in my mouth I wrote early this morning:

Empower yourself; empower others; be the lead.

Something she taught me that a long time ago. The Mama spice makes everything nice.

Happy Mother's Day Mama!

Mama brews the bonds of love
with B-soup spice, a taste above.
And in no other place we'd rather dine
than all as one, sipping Mama wine.

Martian Family Vacashun: I blame the dope. Let it try to load the damn car.

Man, am I learning valuable daddy lessons on this Martian family vacashun.

"Hey you, lift the heavy stuff and yes, it's your fault."

Sigh.

Here's another one -- when you decide to share a family vacation bed with your 16-month-old, be prepared for the kickboxing bedroll boogie and the toddler-WWF head-scissor lock. Also, since Mama's pregnant, the new baby keeps us all her in a hormonal head-scissor lock.

Yes, it's my fault. I'll load the car.

Don't get me wrong -- we had a psychotically different great time visiting Mama's family in Yuma before arriving back in San Diego today for tons of animal kingdom fun, and Nonna (mother-in-law) has been an invaluable travel companion -- it's just that this daddy feels like an infant, even acting like one.

The work cord regenerates and reconnects like a James Cameron special effect and simultaneously dumbs down my already stumble-bumble daddiness.

What the hell? I'm really not this useless, especially when my hand is right in front of my face.

Right?

Front of my face. Hand. Face. Wait, what?

It's not that I'd rather be channeling Kerouac like in the old days when me and Mama traveled the world together (although it was coolsville, Daddy-O), it's just that I need to better practice what I preach -- mindful presence of family when with family.

Work is hell. Or was that war? Family is fun. Or was that the red wine in Rome? Anyway, the fact is the trenches will be there when you return -- I'm talking about work now, not family, so pay attention -- particularly when you have such a great team as I do.

Leaders develop dependable autonomous teams. Families need dependable autonomous daddies.

Don't fail to learn. Learn from failing. That's what well-regulated dopamine production is supposed to help you do.

I blame the dope. Let it try to load the damn car.

This sh&t's not okay. Parenting leadership lacking.

I'm really frustrated. From balloon boy hoax to burning bullies - this sh&t's not okay.

I mean, get the fact that on some anecdotal teen movie level kids will be kids, and with balloon boy, parents will be kids - but again, it's not okay.

It wasn't okay yesterday and it's not okay today. Where is the parenting leadership reaching out to their children to explain to them that setting someone on fire is violent, abusive and wrong?

Where is the parenting leadership reaching out to other parents who decide they need more media coverage instead of being personally responsible for themselves and their families?

Bullying not just a boy sport either. Just search for girl fights on YouTube.

Violence is violence. Abuse is abuse. Exploitation is exploitation.

I understand that these cases are sensationalized in the media, but we need to step up as parents of our children and instill in them that it's not okay, not tell a reporter later in an interview that you had no idea your child was so violent.

Be aware and involved. Be of mindful presence with yourself and your kids. You have the biggest impact on them more than anyone else.

The cloud of domestic violence just gets bigger and bigger...