The Adults of Tomorrow

It didn't really matter what she was arguing for, just the fact that she had to go through the exercise of researching a topic. Then, organizing her thoughts into an argument, writing the argument out, and presenting the argument in class, validated by the very research she did about the subject. That's a lot for adults to pull off, even when their jobs depend on it; presenting in front of people is a stressful and difficult activity. It's also a lot for 8th graders who have only just begun their critical thinking journey. 

Our 8th grader, Beatrice, had to do a project like this in her history class recently. She researched and wrote up her presentation and practiced presenting to us. We gave her feedback, something she's not always open to at this age, but she listened nonetheless and made adjustments. She practiced a few more times and then dreaded the day in class she'd have to present. She did it, though, angst and all. 

Of course we were proud of her. These critical thinking and presentation skills will serve her well later in school and life. This also introduced her to a controversial topic that can skew rational debate to emotional outrage. They had studied Texas v. Johnson, 491 U.S. 397 (1989) and whether flag burning constitutes "symbolic speech" protected by the First Amendment. Beatrice was assigned the argument that it was not symbolic speech and therefore should not be protected, and in helping her with the project, we had some interesting young-adult conversations about this very subject. 

While Beatrice may never want to be in debate club in high school (I never was and neither was my wife Amy), I was fortunate to judge a local high school debate competition recently. The topic was genetically modified organisms (GMOs) and there were 5 teams -- 3 were pro GMO and 2 were not. Their teacher told us (the judges) that they picked their pro or con stance and did their research independently of the other teams. It was only after each team shared their opening statements did they know where the other teams stood. I'm not sure if that's standard debate rules or not, but things got interesting when they moved to the rebuttal stage. 

Some emotion did run higher during the rebuttals, but the teams didn't devolve into trash talking haters of each other's viewpoints. Not that we were expecting it during a high school debate because I'm sure their grade depended on the decorum of the debate at each stage. The key was to listen to each other without judgement, but to not hold back either the countering facts of rebuttals that supporting their arguments. Back and forth they went between teams and I was truly immersed in their powerful interaction. When they got to their closing statements, it was going to be a tough decision as a judge to pick a winner. The other judges felt the same way, but in the end we picked a winner and a runner up. 

Some of the high school debate team members were obviously quite nervous, just like our own kids get in today in middle school presenting to their classes (and just like I still get before I speak publicly). From their introductions, to their opening statements, to their rebuttals, and then finally their closing statements, they delivered their best synthesis of their team arguments after weeks of research. I was honored to be a judge, and just like we tell our own children (whether they want to hear it or not), I told them that these critical thinking and presentation skills will serve them well through college and adulthood. Plus, the empathic skills of listening to others and responding in kind without personal judgement and shaming. There's definitely hope for the adults of tomorrow. 

Holding Space In Our Hearts

The airline text read "flight canceled." I stared at it for a few seconds before I opened the entire text to read it and click through. Sure enough, our flight was canceled. 

I told my wife Amy. "Call the airline," she said.

The airline confirmed that due to extreme weather in the midwest, we wouldn't be able to get out there until Sunday. It was Friday morning and the celebration of life memorial we were going to was on Saturday. Unfortunately that travel math didn't work for us. 

We had been looking forward to seeing family and celebrate Aunt Julie's life. Aunt Julie had been married to Amy's Uncle Brian and sadly passed away last year. She was a joyous loving soul who loved travel, dancing, cooking, playing games, was quite the artist, and generally loved to have fun. We enjoyed our visits and travels with her and Brian over the years and really wanted to be there. It also wasn't lost on us that years ago when we traveled with her and Uncle Brian to Boston was the year before we were pregnant with our daughter Beatrice. 

But again, the travel math wasn't going to work for us. It was the beginning of our kids' spring break, so we quickly brainstormed what we should do, if anything. Do we just do a stay-cation and stay home? Or, do we go somewhere else and spend way too much money? The latter won out. 

Amy wondered out loud what Julie would want us to do. "Maybe we should go down south and go to Disney and/or Universal and have some fun. What do you think?" she asked me.

She waited for me to respond no, my usual default reaction, but I didn't say no this time. 

"Sure, but we need to make sure we can get tickets since it is the beginning of spring break," I said. 

"Beatrice and Bryce, do you want to go to Universal and maybe Disney?" Amy said.

Multiple cheers confirmed the affirmative -- they definitely wanted to go. So, that's when we pretty quickly pivoted and rebooked our trip to LA, grateful that we could actually do that. Fortunately there were hotel rooms and park tickets available. 

Beatrice and Bryce thoroughly enjoyed our last-minute spring break trip pivot and every ride we went on at Disneyland and Universal, even with the long line wait times and the crush of people. Amy and I enjoyed as well, and throughout the entire trip, held space in our hearts to celebrate Aunt Julie's life and the fun she definitely would've wanted us to have, and would've had with us had she been there. 

Holding space in our hearts for the best of us makes the most of every moment wherever we are. 

To Be Me Anew

With all the things that kids and teens worry about and have to deal with today -- like loneliness and isolation of social media, bullying online and off, gun violence, climate change, racism, sexual harassment and violence, and so much more -- watching some of them shine onstage was such a blessing.

Because of extreme weather where we live in California (and everywhere), our youngest Bryce's choir performance kept getting postponed. It's her first year in middle school and she loves being in beginning choir and a local theater production of Beauty and the Beast. In addition to her love of marine biology, we definitely think she's found another calling (for now anyway).

When both the beginning and advanced choir performances actually happened, it was combined with the middle school's talent show. My wife Amy and I and our oldest Beatrice didn't know what to expect, but we were certainly looking forward to it.

And it was transformative, especially for me. I've been burnt out with work, and the business I run has been tough the past few months. I also had to lay off an employee because business has slowed. For those who have been laid off recently, blessings to you. I know it sucks. It also sucks for those who have to lay off even after all the hard work my small team and I put into the business. 

Unfortunately, decades of life and work experience can make you feel cynical, tired, burnt out, and done. That's have I've felt for months now, with the only bright spots being my family, my drumming, and serving on our local school board. So, as we sat there watching our daughter perform songs enthusiastically with her choir mates, I began to feel inspired again. Both choirs were so good. What I wasn't expecting were the amazing talent show performances that were sprinkled in between both choirs performing. 

One boy danced the Napoleon Dynamite dance to Jamiroquai's Canned Heat. If you've never watched Napoleon Dynamite, you're missing out. Performance after performance blew us away. There were kids we've known for years since ours grew up with them, and to watch them now was really a treat. Another girl I coached in soccer years ago sang Somewhere Over the Rainbow, and that brought a few tears to my eyes. That's a special song to me that always tugs my heart strings. 

There was another girl who sang idontwannabeyouanymore by Billie Eilish, which was a song I didn't know. Definitely a melancholy song, but there was something poignant and empowering about it. The opening lines had me fixated: Don't be that way, fall apart twice a day. Not all the song's lyrics resonated with me literally, but the chorus did: I don't wanna be you, anymore.

All the kids who performed that night in the choirs and in the talent show were so brave and inspiring. Even those who made mistakes kept going until they finished. They were all nervous and took big breaths before they started, looking out over the auditorium packed with parents, siblings, friends, and classmates. The choir teacher had a non-stop smile on her face from ear to ear. We all did. What become crystal clear to me in all that we're dealing with today in the world -- and with me feeling so cynical, tired, burnt out, and done of late -- is that I don't wanna be that, anymore. 

I want to be me anew. Thank you, kids. You're the best of us. 

The Act of Simply Doing

Oh, how I dreaded it. The long walk up a driveway or a walkway to the front door. I'd park my bike on the sidewalk and approach a porch imagining so much ridicule and shame coming my way once they'd open the door. I felt that way going to every home on my paper route to collect their monthly newspaper fees. 

Most of the time was without negative incident. They'd either be home and respond pleasantly getting me cash or writing a check, or they wouldn't be home. Sometimes I'd get a scolding about throwing their newspaper into the bushes or the front yard and not right on their front porch in front of their door. Sometimes I had to go back multiple times to collect when they weren't home (or they saw me coming and didn't want to pay). 

It was my first job at 12 years old. I enjoyed the newspaper delivery part most of the time, but not the collection part. Also, the early Saturday mornings folding, banding, and delivering the papers weren't all that fun either, but the reward was worth it. A little money and after Saturday delivery, fresh donuts and a Coke as a treat. 

The collecting of payments was an anxiety-filled drag. I didn't have the job for very long, but I'll never forget it either. Through all that stress, there were some important communication and persistence skills I learned at a young age. Asking people for money isn't easy, even when they owe it to you, especially for a 12-year-old.

Decades later, it's hard to watch your own kids stress about new life experiences, and the fear of putting themselves out there and then failing and being ridiculed and shamed is a difficult rite of passage for many kids and teens (and adults). For our youngest Bryce who's now 12, the angst was over trying out for a youth theater production of Beauty and the Beast. She had never done anything like this before where there were auditions being held and she actually had to try out for a role. Her anxiety was palatable, but after she got through the initial auditions, she really started to enjoy it. In fact, now she's loving all the rehearsals, the learning, the singing, and the dancing with a new found confidence. We can't wait to see the production!

More recently for Beatrice, who's now 14, the angst was over marketing herself to babysit. She took an online course, passed, and I then helped her put her first resume together for her. After getting the word out that she's ready to babysit, a friend gave her a paid practice run, but afterwards she got no other bites, which was another stressor. The hurry-up-and-wait time added up -- until finally she got the call for a babysitting gig (a text to her and her mom actually). She wanted to do it, but was apprehensive, and went back and forth about it. She also worried about making mistakes and her mom and I told her the only way to learn is to do it. And she did do it and did just fine. 

The stress-relieving catch phrase for both girls has been, "But they're going to throw rotten tomatoes at me," whether that's about trying out for theater, babysitting, presenting in class, etc. How they heard that expression, we have no idea. It's an old expression that refers to the practice of throwing tomatoes at bad performers going back to the early 1900s. Nobody throws rotten tomatoes anymore, at least, not literally.

Put yourselves out there, kids. Take risks, face your fears, stretch, learn, fail, and try again. Do it all. Sometimes the greatest success is in the act of simply doing. And that cumulative success of doing can empower self-confidence for a lifetime.

The Choice of Chance

"We go out in the world and take our chances

Fate is just the weight of circumstances

That's the way that Lady Luck dances

Roll the bones..."

—Rush, Roll the Bones

We hadn't even been drinking when we blew the stop sign. Up until that moment, we had just been driving around, cruising the main drag, listening to music, and talking about girls. For us, it was normal guy teen time in high school. 

My best friend and I decided to hang out with another friend one Friday night who had a pretty sweet old Mustang. He was in the passenger seat and I was in the back seat. After driving around for maybe an hour, we headed to 7-11 to get Big Gulps and other snacks. As we drove along a side street, our Mustang friend accelerated quickly. That wasn't unusual for any of us at the time when we'd decide to hit the gas and flex our testosterone a bit. 

But this time we weren't very far from a main artery in town, a four-lane avenue that usually had regular traffic at all times including later at night when we were driving around. He hit the gas and didn't let up as we headed to the intersection of the main avenue. I remember us cussing and yelling at him to stop -- and then we blew the stop sign. 

We thought we were going to die a horrible death. Unbelievably there were no other cars near us when we ran the stop sign, but when we got to the other side of the main avenue, our friend driving screeched to a stop, laughing hysterically. That was enough for us, though. Both my best friend and I were all done and demanded to go home. 

Teen risk is a ubiquitous rite of passage that transcends generations. It's a big part of the teen brain two-step of growing up and tripping over itself, hopefully learning and growing along the way. I was a conservatively safe kid and still took more risks than I'd like to admit, including those that were seemingly out of my control like the above example. 

When we were first dating and getting to know each other, my wife Amy and I both commiserated over our own risky teen behavior (and beyond teenage-land) that included sex, alcohol, drugs, dangerous driving and other dangerous activities (like jumping off our roof into the swimming pool), and the list goes on. Now that we have teens, we definitely have revisited these memories, the scary ones and those we remember fondly, no matter how much in danger life and limb were. 

For the past two years, even prior to teenage-land, our kids call us the safetyists. They think we're overly concerned with their emotional, psychological, and physical safety, and that we worry too much. And they're right; these are normal parent-teen time discussions we have every week during our family meetings. 

When it comes to risky behavior, teens have a different level of risk assessment than adults do (although adults don't do a great job at times either). Roll the dice and let's go! We'll be okay! Teen brains are still developing and decision-making is a work in progress for sure.

It's true that there's no reward without risk and risk without consequence is no risk at all. However, the realities of visceral life-changing consequence come from experience, something teens don't have a lot of, which is why we review safety plans with ours every week.

Does that mean we don't want them taking chances in life? Of course not. However, it's the choice of chance that makes all the difference. 

Magically Elastic

She picked up the tea bag and painted the blank page with it.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

Our oldest child, Beatrice, deftly swept the tea bag back and forth across the paper. "A special project," she said.

"Are you painting with the tea bag?" I asked rhetorically. Of course that was what she was doing.

"Yes, I am."

"Very cool."

She then explained to me how once the paper dried, she would pour rice onto the paper and trace around whatever shapes it made. 

"What's it going to be?" 

Bea smiled. "I'll show you later."

I couldn't wait. She's been into art since she was little and has become quite the artist. Yes, that's easy for me to say, being her proud father who loves her and who is biased, but she really has a unique eye. Nearly every day after school she's sketching and drawing, and nearly every night before bed she's sketching and drawing. She prefers pencil and ink, but has worked in different mediums over the years. 

She recently drew a self-portrait, which I wish I could share, but she didn't want me to. She beautifully captured the awkward unsureness of a teenager, while at the same time, a calm and confident determination centered inside the adolescent maelstrom. That is one thing we've worked hard to help instill in both our daughters, and it really did emanate from her self-portrait.

Back to her latest artwork -- she poured rice onto the dried tea-stained paper and traced the seemingly random shapes the rice created on the page. 

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Something," Bea said.

I couldn't wait to see what she'd do with it, although I did ask her not to make a mess, and to clean up the ultimate mess she would make. C'mon, I'm Dad. 

Beatrice finished her latest piece of artwork and shared it. It was an imaginative map of a fantastical land, something I used to do after reading Lord of the Rings when I was her age. Except hers came from a spontaneous idea of drawing random shapes around rice on paper and then making it all up in her head. 

Creative learning and expression are so important to our family. Especially through music, art, and meditation. Both Beatrice and her sister Bryce love art. Bryce is also now in musical theater and loving it. Amy is an avid puzzle person and meditates regularly to keep her brain and spirit sound and in shape. I meditate as well along with drumming. These learning quests began in earnest during the first year of the pandemic and haven't let up.

That's because creative learning through music, art, and meditation helps us all process life and map its endless possibilities, even when it seems like there aren't many. These mental maps are the creative expressions from learning and experience that empower us keep us magically elastic and living our best lives. Our latest meditative mantra was also "my life unfolds in divine order." Amen to that. Keep the maps coming, Beatrice. 

When the Tooth Fairy Flees

It's creepy when you think about it. The fact that we put our children's teeth under their pillow, and then overnight as they sleep, the Tooth Fairy leaves them a small reward, usually monetary, replacing their teeth. This as a reward for eventually getting their big kid teeth. 

Based on some quick research, cultural traditions like the Tooth Fairy have evolved over the years. In the 13th century, there was a Norse and Northern European tradition of tand-fé or tooth fee, which was paid when a child lost their first tooth. In the Norse culture, children's teeth and other articles belonging to children were said to bring good luck in battle, and Scandinavian warriors hung children's teeth on a string around their necks.

Creepy. And most historians believe that the tradition of ‘trading’ baby teeth for money or treats could link back to an 18th-century story in France, La Bonne Petite Souris (The Little Mouse).

Also of levity note, our kids used to watch a funny cartoon called Teen Titans (based on the DC comics Teen Titans), and there was a villainess character on it called the Tooth Fairy. Literally the Tooth Fairy with an creepy voice who would steal people's teeth and eat them for food. Both gross and super creepy.

Today, it's rite of passage ritual that remains for kids heading toward adulthood. I remember getting a quarter for each tooth I put under my pillow, and today our kids have gotten and get $1-$2 per tooth. What a creepy racket. Our oldest Beatrice is all done with losing teeth and having braces now (besides maybe wisdom teeth someday), but Bryce was later to the party to lose her molars. Developmentally she's still in the window of losing teeth, just later than Beatrice did. Multiple teeth in the past few months have come out and she's got a little dough in her hands. 

Kids are proud when they loose their teeth. "Look Mom and Dad" they tell us when one comes out, holding it up proudly as if they found a gold nugget. Which in a sense it is for them. Because Bryce is a little older than Bea was when she lost her remaining teeth, it's harder to pull off the Tooth Fairy. We know that they know that we're the Tooth Fairy, but like many other myths we teach our children, they want to hold onto childhood as long as possible. We don't blame them; I know I still hold onto mine. 

But it is harder to pull off the Tooth Fairy because both our kids are staying up later. Slipping the cash under the pillow unseen is a tough gig, one that Mom can still nimbly do. Until she forgets (and I'm no help). The latest Bryce tooth remained unpaid under the pillow the next morning, but Bryce didn't say anything until after school the next day.

"Mom, the Tooth Fairy didn't come," Bryce said. 

"Oh, we'll have to try again," Mom said.

"My friends told me we should just leave it on the kitchen table and try that," Bryce said.

"Good idea."

So that's what we did, we left her tooth on the table this time, no matter how much creepier that was than leaving it under her pillow. And presto -- two bucks were left on the table for Bryce the next morning. She was happy and we were happy. 

As adults, we do what we can to keep our grown-up teeth, because there's no payout for losing them later in life. There's only lots of dental work and ultimately false teeth or implants that'll cost us big time. No help from the Tooth Fairy here. That's all we get. 

In the meantime, we thought about buying Bryce out for the rest of her baby teeth, but then that's when the Tooth Fairy flees. Instead, we'll give her a few more payouts until that time, to keep the magic alive a little bit longer.