The Greatest Return on Fatherhood and the Future

It was one of those moments that perfectly represented family love, pride, empathy, and vulnerability in a very public way. It was also yet another polarizing moment that the haters immediately hated because it was from the other side, about the other side, glorifying the other side. Of course, I'm talking about the moment when Gus Walz, the Democratic VP nominee Tim Walz's son, stood and cheered on his dad, crying with pride and love, at the Democratic National Convention. "That's my dad!" he said.

Never mind the fact that Gus has a learning disorder, which does make the hate even more disgusting. Here is a moment representing a healthy love between a son and his father, and while seemingly celebrated by most, it's denigrated by too many others.

But it's not simply a Democrat versus Republican thing. It's a pervasive toxic masculinity thing. A powerful patriarchy kept in business for thousands of years (men in charge). One that continues to prevent empathy, respect, and unconditional love from blossoming between sons and daughters and their fathers and mothers. One that continues to marginalize and endanger women, people of color, and LGBTQIA+ communities. 

God, I'm tired of being outraged by extremist outrage of any ideology, especially those who embrace the diminishing hate of "men in power" that has turned people against each other and their own best interests for millennia. Unfortunately, I had two horrible male role models as "fathers" when I was younger. Two men who had been socialized in the above hate. They were my birth father and my first stepfather. Both were abusive, and one was an alcoholic, and the other mentally ill. It wasn't until my second stepfather, the one whose name my sister and I eventually took, did I experience an empathic and loving father. One who wasn't afraid to cry. He was clear about rules and boundaries when needed, especially with my sister and I in our teens, but he always led with love and empathy. These qualities are also what made him a respected police officer for 32 years.

When I was sworn in as a local school board member nearly two years ago, I was filled with pride and love when my daughters and wife cheered me on in the front row. Later, they all asked me if I cried, because they all know that Dad is a crier. An unabashed and unapologetic crier. However, I am clear about rules and boundaries when I need to be, especially now with teens in tow. I'm the gruff "no" and "don't do that" dad, and I'm constantly reminded of that.

But I'm also the empathic, loving, willing to be vulnerable dad. One who only cares about teaching and empowering our children to be healthy, resilient, empathetic, respectful, and grateful human beings. This is the greatest return on fatherhood and the future. It's not easy to sustain, though. Sometimes I still fall prey to judging others and the haters gonna hate trap, which both our kids call me out on. 

I've learned a lot over the years about being a "man", a husband, and a father -- not always getting it right, but always working on it -- and I hope our children will always be willing to proudly call out, "That's my dad!" 

Let's Dance!

In a world on fire full of crazy hate, it was fun to watch high school students and teachers dance like no one was watching. But there lots of people watching -- a high school gym full parents, students, teachers, and administrators who cheered on the dancers for the "Dancing with the Santa Cruz Movie Stars" competition. We never watched the Dancing with the Stars show on TV, but we used to love So You Think You Can Dance. 

I remember when I was in high school when some of us would do funny skits during assemblies that sometime involved other teachers and even parents. 

Like the time I stood in the gym in nothing but a towel wrapped around me (I had shorts on underneath) with a few more of my football team. We were blindfolded and we were supposed to guess which girl was giving us a kiss on the cheek (or something like that). I don't remember all the context during the assembly, but that's what we did. However, the twist was our mothers were the ones who kissed us on our cheeks, and a gym full of students, teachers, and administrators got quite a kick out of it. 

There were many other fun times like these when I was in high school, but this dance show at our daughter's high school was next level. Our daughter Beatrice wasn't dancing, but she was there with her friends cheering on the competitors, including her favorite math teacher. It was only the second year of this competition, and the dance teacher who organized was another favorite teacher of Beatrice's. 

My wife Amy and I hadn't had that much fun on a Friday night since our date nights of old, pre-kids. Watching the high school "Dancing with the Santa Cruz Movie Stars" competition filled me with pride and nostalgia. Teachers or another student were paired with dance students who choreographed the dances to movie soundtrack songs from Barbie, Mama Mia, Teen Beach, Singin' in the Rain, and many others, including Star Wars. Yes, Star Wars. I wanted to get up and dance with a lightsaber, too. A student, a school administrator (who won last year), a professional dancer and choreographer, and our city mayor made up the judges. 

What was the most inspiring for us, though, was all the dancers' willingness to be vulnerable for the sake of fun and entertainment, for trying something new. No one was making fun of anyone as far as we were concerned. The packed gym was cheering on all the dancers regardless of their skill level, and some of them were pretty darn good. Most of the dancing pairs only had a few days to pull together a routine, too. Amy and I used to take dance lessons and love to dust off our moves sometimes, so this got our boogie shoes tapping. In the immortal words of Kevin Bacon's character in Footloose, "Let's Dance!"

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. 

An Impactful Loving Life

"It's true that love can change us
Never quite enough
Sometimes we are too tender
Sometimes we're too tough..."

—Rush, Emotion Detector

They forgot the onion rings. I had gone out to pick up some take-out food for the family, and when I went through a fast food drive-thru, I decided to stop in the parking lot to check the order. Sure enough, the onion rings weren't there. No problem. I went through again and they gave me the onion rings they had forgotten, but as I drove away, I ate one of the fries. It was soft and cold. Ugh. I went through the drive-thru again, and they gave me hot and crispy fries. They were pleasant and I thanked them. 

Our oldest daughter Beatrice also wanted a shake. The fast food place weren't making shakes for whatever reason, so I had to go to another place to get one. The person helping me literally rolled their eyes and sighed when I asked for a strawberry shake. They made it for me, and considering there was no one else in the establishment, I didn't understand the attitude. I thanked them and left.

After going to the third place to get my wife and me our favorite weekly taqueria meal, which went fine (they know us well there), I was frustrated from having to go to so many different places to get my family food, something I've done many times in the past without incident. This time it just made me mad for taking so long and I knew the food would be cold (which some of it was). When I got home I announced to my wife and two daughters:

"I'm never going out to get food again."

Of course, I didn't mean it. I was just frustrated and triggered for no good reason really. After whining about it for a bit, I realized how bad it all sounded, and I apologized. First of all, I was more than grateful that we were able to get any kind of food we want to begin with whenever we wanted. My wife concurred. I also told them all that restaurants of all types have struggled to stay open and stay staffed during the pandemic and continue to struggle. I wasn't rude to these different eatery employees, but too many consumers have been the past two years; it can be such a thankless job for what minimum wage pays. And even with wages increasing more in the past year than the past time for the lowest wage earners, inflation continues to eat away any gains they may have had.

That last part I thought better about digressing on, sensing my family didn't want an economics lecture. But my grumpy reaction to just going out to pick up food did remind me of our weekly family meetings where, among many important dynamics, we cover:

• Managing emotions
• Positive communications
• Providing support

What happened reminded me that we're all easily triggered, and although we should be more responsible for how we react in any situation, it ain't as easy as the being triggered part. In fact, there are too many people struggling these days -- mentally, emotionally, spiritually -- all the -ally's for that matter. As the pandemic continues to turn us upside down, keeping our communication with each other positive and supportive can be difficult to sustain. 

As my wife and I have learned from reading researcher Brené Brown, someone who's studied courage, vulnerability, shame, and empathy for the past two decades, being vulnerable with each other and staying positive and supportive in the moment is hard. Armoring up and lashing out is the unfortunate easy-button default setting we keep powered on. 

We can rewire this default setting. We really can. Our family works on it every day of every week. It's not always easy, but mercy me it makes for an impactful loving life.

Building Blocks of the Brave

"My true self is always grateful."

-Deepak Chopra, A Centering Thought Meditation

She changed her mind about the trombone. She played it all year in 4th grade beginning band, and although she didn't practice as much as we wanted, she learned to read music and really seemed to enjoy it.

Our oldest daughter, Beatrice, is a creative visual and auditory learner and has an excellent musical ear and mind, and while she's struggled with reading and math, the music has helped her overall well-being and self-confidence (but science is conflicted on this one as it relates to transferable skill across subjects).

She's also been learning how to play the recorder in music class and really enjoys that even more. She's been proud of her recorder progress, getting different color belts (strings) for every song she masters in class and tying them to her recorder. In fact, it's motivated her to want to learn another instrument -- the flute. Both instruments are similar in how they're played with the fingers, yet held differently and how you blow your air to make it play.

And unlike the trombone that plays mostly the back-beat and never the melody, the recorder and flute do play more the melody. We're not sure if that's why she wants to play the flute, but we support it no matter what to keep her in music. However, she's conflicted about having to play in beginning band again.

Her idea is that, if she practices over the summer, she could go into intermediate band in the fall. We encouraged her to ask her music teacher about the process and what it would take. She didn't want to do that initially, feeling anxious about approaching her. Instead, she wanted her mom to send an email. But we kept encouraging her to pitch her music teacher her idea, until she actually did it. Most of it, at least. She didn't ask about if she practiced over the summer, could she play flute. She just asked if she could switch to the flute instead.

The music teacher responded that, if Beatrice passed the beginning flute milestones, she could eventually move to intermediate band. Not exactly what Beatrice wanted to hear, but she asked for part of what she wanted to with a clear idea, and we couldn't have been more proud. She definitely wants to play the flute and will hopefully practice over the summer no matter what happens (as well as take piano lessons -- something else she wants to do).

Our youngest, Bryce, on the other hand, is a doer without a lot of encouragement. We went to a family wedding recently where at the reception there was a table set up with a guest book to sign and a Polaroid camera to take pictures with. The directions were that each of the wedding guests sign the book with a Sharpie pen color of choice, then have someone take a Polaroid picture and paste the picture in the guest book. There were also fun picture accessories to hold up like cute big glasses to use in the picture taking.

At first, Bryce and Beatrice had fun taking a pictures of each other, and then we all sat down at a table next to my sister and her boyfriend to eat. Beatrice joined us, but Bryce did not. I looked up and saw that she had co-opted the guest book / picture table, welcoming guests and explaining to each one what to do.

We got busy talking to one another, and when I looked up again, Bryce was managing the whole welcoming affair. Not only did she explain what guests needed to do, she took the pictures, waited until they developed, and then pasted them in the book. I even saw her direct guests to the remaining empty seats at the tables.

The guests were thanking her, the bride and groom were thanking her, and she while she enjoyed the kudos, she never lost sight of her adopted task. Even after all the guests had arrived and were seated, Bryce continued to hang out at the registration table, tidying up and checking in with passersby if they had signed the guest book and had their picture taken.

In the end, they were both still kids, and as the reception went on, the grown-up stuff got old and the iPads came out. They hung in there, though. We were so proud, not only because of how they handled themselves at the wedding as our children, but because of the confidence we encourage them and empower them to have; to be building blocks of the brave people they'll someday become. To put themselves out there and being vulnerable knowing that expectation doesn't always align with reality (more painful yet powerful positive lessons to come as they traverse adolescence into adulthood). We're so grateful for who they are and their potential true selves they've already started to embody.