I write often about how the experience of parenting often allows a glimpse into your past. Specifically, your childhood, and the many memories that get lost somewhere between birth and adolescence. Because in life, all things are circular, all experiences are shared, and for the most part much of what we did as children our parents have already done; and conversely our children will do also. It’s just the way of the world. This commonality of experience is also what provides all parents with their intuitive powers. As quite often we are able to pick out circumstances and results with a fairly good degree of predictability, based entirely on our own experiences. How many of us haven’t been admonished as kids how we can’t fool our parentsbecause they were children once?
This is where PinF found himself this morning. I felt like a sort of child Psychologist as I watched 1000 children from grades 3 thru 5 file into the cafeteria/auditorium of my daughter’s school. The advantage of Florida is that almost all school assemblies are held outside due to the weather’s accommodating nature. Today would be different, as we were forced inside for this event due to rain, further magnifying the noise ten-fold. Still I wasn’t complaining, I would have gone anywhere to see what I was here for today. To watch the dynamics of this many kids is quite a study in both anthropology and psychology. You can see the extroverts, the introverts, the cliques, the athletes, the nerds and the cool kids. Kids in groups tend to behave much differently than in one-on-one situations. Funny, as I thought to myself that I hope Sophia is as nice in school, as she is out….I dismissed this thought, of course she is.
So here I wa
s, hiding from my own daughter in her school on a rainy Tuesday morning, her mami was there too. It's not often we’re brought together to do things, but when it’s our daughter, there exists a certain level of détente. Good for Sophie and good for us that we can be there together for her. Usually any underlying issues get left outside the school and we’re able to revert back to the three of us, at least for our daughter’s sake. Today was a special surprise. None of the 1000 students in attendance had any idea who was to be called up on stage by the principal to receive the coveted Student of the Month award for their individual classes, a high honor indeed. Each month, all teachers nominate one student for the monthly ceremony, and bless her little heart---Ms. Sophie was chosen as her class’s representative. Hence our hiding---for if a child sees their parent in attendance, the gig is up and they know they’ve been chosen.
I was prepared, camera in hand ready to capture a “moment” in time. For even though I know there will be a thousand more moments, this knowledge did little to diminish the importance of this moment in the here and now. We watched as the third grade nominees were called up one by one to receive their certificates and have the SofTM pin pinned to their uniform lapel. Steadily, like the spelling bee of last year, Sophia’s moment approached and with it, the tension and excitement her parents felt. Until finally the principal called out SOPHIA PAYNTER and ever so confidently and cute she rose, with an almost surprised, though surely happy look on her face to finally win the honor she had coveted since third grade. She strode towards her parents not knowing we were here, and then she caught my eye and smiled a nervous, knowing, and almost self conscious smile. By this point her mami was wiping her tears and I was shaking, as I tried to steadily record the moment on my camera.
As she walked back off the stage back to her seat I gave Sophie a little card of congratulations. In it I told her I wasn’t so much proud of the SoTM distinction as much as I was for her being such a good person. Grades can be attained through hard work, races won through practice, instruments mastered through lessons. I told Sophia you can't be a nice person if you really aren’t one to begin with. And she is. She’s a good kid who considers others, knows her manners, and tries her best, to be her best, through her studying, hard work, and her caring for others. I told her I was proud of her but mainly because of her pride in herself, something that no one can teach, nor ever take away from her. So that was PinF’s Tuesday in paradise, a moment in time yes - but not one I’ll soon forget because she understood exactly what I was telling her.
All the accolades in the world would mean nothing, if she wasn’t a good person, comfortable with who she was and where she was headed. And she is, and this is what makes me proud.
I received an interesting email from a life-long friend the other day. It had all the typical news to report; the children, job, and the stresses of the everyday grind. My friend is unique in the fact that she lost one of her parents at a young age, and now as she approaches that age is probably prone to seeing that loss in a much more real way -- can’t blame her there.
She went on to mention how she had been drawn to a life coach after reading some articles describing how to take control of your life and live a life of purpose. Quite an interesting concept when you really consider it, because who wants to do anything in life that is devoid of purpose. Yet in many ways we all find ourselves questioning our motives, both personally and professionally. Either the job is unfulfilling, or the marriage has lost its luster, or even worse--maybe both.
So often it feels as though the “purpose” in our lives has been lost, and with it, so have all the dreams, passion, and ideas we may have once aspired to. We’re all victims of this. How can we not be? Bills have to be paid, decisions need to be made, and responsibilities have to be met. That’s the irony, since we often go through life envying another person’s life, job, or outlook. In reality, if we could get inside the thoughts of each other, we’d find that we often share the same doubts, insecurities, and fears.
My friend went on to mention that she feels so overwhelmed with work, and that she wonders if she is dividing her time and dedications in their proper proportions and more importantly assigning her priorities the correct attention. Think about that for a minute.
Who doesn’t think about what they should do, and what they would do, if only they could make their decisions based on what they want to do, instead of what they have to do? The email ended with my friend coming to the realization that what were really important to her were her children growing up and the amount of time she gets to spend with them. Yes, the career and the opportunity it affords to give her children a certain lifestyle were important too, but she seemed to be making the point that it wasn’t so important as to be choosing long hours and career advancement over the quality and quantity of time with her children.
It was towards the very end of the email that her whole epiphany was brought into better focus. She mentioned that one of the exercises she was asked to consider under this theory of coaching was quite daunting, a question that evoked as much fascination as fear. It forces you to really consider changes that you would make in an instant if you knew your time was suddenly finite.
If you were to be told today that you will have one year to live, how would you spend this last year? You would not be allowed to use or borrow more money that you have today. Where would you start, and what prevents you from enacting any of these changes today?
What would you do?
Again, it would be so easy, what with all the rhetoric, lies, and proganda that invade our daily lives, newspapers, and airwaves to forget the “good old days” of innocence and false security before we started erasing civil liberties. Remember those days? First change not long after 911 was seeing airports staffed with rifle-toting soldiers--shouldn't we have seen it coming? Now when you fly, the airports are still full of soldiers, the difference is they are battered and scarred both physically and emotionally. Or they are tear-stained from good-byes, all much too young either way. The losses continue to mount, 2,974 at the WTC and 3,537 in combat, this leaves us approaching 7,000 lost lives, hopes, dreams, and promises for a better world if maybe these people were still in it. And the question still beckons. Are we any safer, more respected, closer to catching the "real" terrorist? Sadly, it doesn't appear so.But as I drove to work today I was thinking. Six years ago I was rushing to dress, gather Sophia for pre-school, and get to a real estate closing after a quick stop to drop Sophia at day care. As I frantically got ready while sipping my coffee I flicked on the TV. In a moments time I was to witness something so horribly tragic, and so humanly sad, that I’m sure like my parents’ generation remembered where they were for the assassination of JFK, I too would forever remember the morning of September 11th, 2001. I stood, slack jawed in my kitchen, and watched as the second tower was hit and broadcast live on network television.
In an instant everything changed. Almost in a fog, and hugging her even more that day, I dropped Sophia at the daycare, hustling over to meet my clients for their closing, all the while tuned to the radio—any station really. There was no music that day, only live feeds from New York as bewildered journalists tried to make some sort of sense out of hell the day had become. I knew as did millions of Americans that this was to change our lives, our history, and our view of our place in the world forever.
Gone now are six years, and what an incredible mess we have on our hands. A bunch of white middle-aged men, none of whom had any military background bumbling through history altering decisions. Clearly we have been led by a cadre of self-serving bureaucratic liars calling the shots, trampling on our constitutional rights, and generally making the world even more dangerous and volatile in the process. Afghanistan was accepted as something that had to be done, and even the meekest of Presidents would have had to decapitate the Taliban leadership. I needn’t go into the incredibly wasteful and fool hardy decisions that we as a nation have allowed Bush and Co. to make and lead us into since then. George has played this nation and its assets as if it were his personal little game to play, however he saw fit.
With so many factors pointing to failure, it appears now that this debacle was doomed from the very start. Having mentioned that the executive leadership of this administration was a non-military serving one, especially during Vietnam, I should clarify myself. I do no find it a requirement to have served in the armed forces to be considered qualified to make decisions regarding the deployment of our soldiers destined for combat. I do, with regard to the matter of protesting or supporting the validity of American soldiers’ sacrifice in combat, find it a far more credible argument of one who has served in the armed forces; especially in combat, when arguing for either the continued deployment or withdrawal of said troops from harms way. Who knows better than someone who has faced death?
After witnessing Representative Murtha’s treatment by this administration with regard to his beliefs that we should bring our troops home, it only underscores this administrations’ willingness to muddy anyone’s name who would dare take a stand against its failed policies. Even a decorated combat Marine, something no one on the executive branch of this administration is. Implying he is less a patriot for this view, yet Bush's minions outed an undercover agent of the CIA. So who's the real patriot here?
So here we are. Not gaining any ground in Afghanistan, and bogged down in a bloody civil/religious/ethnic war in Iraq and surely no safer in the world than we were six years ago. On the contrary, we are as a nation even more despised and ridiculed than ever, and probably even more at risk now as a people than we've ever been at any time in our nation’s history. Having been to Europe this summer, most people are incredulous how we could reelect such an inept, and fundamentally flawed man again. Now we have the double indignity of the administration using combat veterans when it’s convenient with regard to the new propaganda commercials extolling the wisdom and virtues of our failed policies and doctrines, while imploring us to commit more young lives to the slaughter.
There are others still, all maligned for their opposition; McCain, Kerry, Murtha: these men were all viciously attacked in ads and propaganda during both elections and key votes of Congress, despite all of them being combat experienced statesmen, men who have seen blood spilled in vain as well. Instead, the shameless Bush administration has no conscience when parading double amputees, widows, and parents of killed soldiers to propagandize this mess we call a war.
Even with six years gone we're not an inch safer, nor a pound better than we were before George started this mess. Instead we've allowed our "Commander in Chief" to lose 3,537 more lives since 911, and Bin Laden? Well, incredibly, he's still alive and lives on to torment his enemies-- George and Co. It's been said that the "devil is in the details", in this case it would seem that he's also found in the lack thereof, since the "details" of this mess have never been true anyway, nor have they added up to much more than lies. Further proof of a flawed and undefined mission, misguided policies, and fuzzy objectives in righting the many wrongs of that innocently peaceful day six years ago.
Parent/Teacher Night was last night.
I’ve gone every year for the past 5 years. It’s a quick greeting, followed by a synopsis of curriculum and classroom expectations and goals for the year. Sophie had already told me she thought that this might very well be her favorite teacher of her illustrious school career thus far. Nothing new here, she claimed the same about every teacher for the previous four school years. I, of course, have my favorites and I think I might agree with her that this years’ teacher might be on PinF’s short list as well.
There is, for those of you who haven’t visited an elementary school room in many years, something very cathartic about doing so. It is the one common denominator we all share, along with the same hopes, fears, aspirations, and experiences -- all in different degrees mind you, but similar all the same. So there I sat in my daughter’s chair. Viewing what her daily world looks like from day to day. Trying to imagine her little mind at work. My first impression was why she can’t she keep her bedroom as neat and orderly as her desk was.
My second impression? How many silly, clueless, and nervous Nellie parents there are in the world. I don’t know if it’s because I’m one of maybe two fathers in the class, and women are just different, or if I just seem to recognize some women who are too involved. Instead of just taking it all in and maybe reserving questions for after the teacher’s presentation, many parents seem to want to pose questions on a personal level about their children’s performance. This is often done by way of a statement-pseudo-question where the parent begins with “…Bobby says…,” I don’t get that. Luckily there are usually only a few of these parents and the one’s that are clued in usually recognize each other with a knowing nod.
Of course every parent wants to hear good things, PinF is no different. Probably one of the great disappointments of parenting is to realize that the cooperative, angelic, and responsible child you thought you were raising was the complete opposite in class. For some parents this was obviously the case, either by way of the state of their messy desks, missing papers that were to be on display for parents, or the chart of behavior demerits on the wall. Nothing egregious mind you, just fourth grade stuff; forgot my homework, talking in class, hitting, etc.
So it was that that when I got my opportunity to speak with Ms. Pifer I just let her speak, not trying to tell her about my kid, but rather letting her tell me, she is after all the third most powerful person in my daughter’s life at least until May. Blessed as I am, I got exactly what every parent longs to hear. “She’s a joy to have in class….always follows directions….is reading above grade level…..her cursive is very nice….” What I did to deserve this, I’m still trying to figure out, but I’ll take it.
The memories that come rushing back to your mind as you sit in a miniature desk looking at the cursive writing chart are for the most part incredibly vivid. You can actually relate to the smells, the sights, and the sounds of school, even a modern one with computers and CCTV’s. Even more interesting are the many emotions you recall of excitement for the year, goals you want to achieve, and the sense of moving on that each successive grade represents. You can feel all of this and more as you step out of your own daily grind and world, and sit behind a little desk, in a little chair, attentively listening to teacher lay out the plan for the coming year. My “plan” is to try and get her to savor her years, as they are going very quickly now.
The presentation complete, we were asked to take out a letter each student had written to their parents and respond with a letter back for them to read when they came to school the next day. Sophie, like any kid, thanked us for her stuff in life, her summer vacations to the Keys and her cruise to Mexico. The last sentence was the most telling, written in the innocuous way that only a nine year-old can write it to her parents: Thanks for making me.
Little can she realize now, that it was her who made us.
I write often about how the experience of parenting often allows a glimpse into your past. Specifically, your childhood, and the many memories that get lost somewhere between birth and adolescence. Because in life, all things are circular, all experiences are shared, and for the most part much of what we did as children our parents have already done; and conversely our children will do also. It’s just the way of the world. This commonality of experience is also what provides all parents with their intuitive powers. As quite often we are able to pick out circumstances and results with a fairly good degree of predictability, based entirely on our own experiences. How many of us haven’t been admonished as kids how we can’t fool our parentsbecause they were children once?
s, hiding from my own daughter in her school on a rainy Tuesday morning, her mami was there too. It's not often we’re brought together to do things, but when it’s our daughter, there exists a certain level of détente. Good for Sophie and good for us that we can be there together for her. Usually any underlying issues get left outside the school and we’re able to revert back to the three of us, at least for our daughter’s sake. Today was a special surprise. None of the 1000 students in attendance had any idea who was to be called up on stage by the principal to receive the coveted Student of the Month award for their individual classes, a high honor indeed. Each month, all teachers nominate one student for the monthly ceremony, and bless her little heart---Ms. Sophie was chosen as her class’s representative. Hence our hiding---for if a child sees their parent in attendance, the gig is up and they know they’ve been chosen.
