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Political Lessons

Truth Thursday

(This post was written prior to the recent Susan G. Komen/Planned Parenthood debacle. I have since made a sizable contribution to Planned Parenthood, grateful for the reminder, by fellow blogger and Stirrup Queen, Melissa Ford, that it is important to support services instead of a quasi-philanthropic effort.)

A couple of weeks ago as my daughter and I were on a mundane errand, we drove past a large group of mostly young people streaming out of the metro and walking together towards the downtown area nearby. I couldn’t tell at first what was uniting them, except that they all seemed to be wearing orange scarves. And then I saw one of their placards.

“I’m pro-life and I’m proud.”

This was one of those car moments you read about in parenting manuals – when you are driving with your eyes on the road and you need to open a provocative yet important and potentially embarrassing topic with your child. Being behind the wheel so they don’t have to look you in the eye is the best possible place to start these conversations, I have now learned.

My 12-year-old daughter asked who these people were and why were they carrying signs?

I generally try very hard, when talking about big issues in the world, to offer a relatively neutral position so that my children can hear what are presumably the facts and try to make up their own minds about the topic at hand.

(The exception being the very basic birds and bees of politics – Democrats v. Republicans. My children know that they are simply never, ever allowed to become Republicans. They can become religious, they can come out, they can basically make any decision they want about how they choose to live their lives. But they cannot become Republican. No amount of funny Michael J. Fox as Alex Keaton will change my mind about this.)

Anyway, my daughter was probably preparing herself for another one of mom’s pablum-like homilies.

Not this time.

Ethical Quandaries and a $100 Bill

Truth Thursday

Last week, in Washington, DC, City Councilmember Harry Thomas, Jr., pleaded guilty to embezzling $350,000 in funds that had been earmarked primarily for youth sports programs.  He was taking fancy vacations, driving a luxury car, and living a life high on the hog with monies he stole from his constituents in a fairly poor ward of the city.

Am I surprised? No. Yet another politician feeling powerful and entitled to stealing from the public weal. Have I been ranting and raving? Yes. Here’s why 

Last week, just outside of Washington, DC, I found a $100 bill on the ground right in front of a Staples office store. My 12-year-old daughter was with me. I had a flash thought about how nice it would be to pocket the money, but immediately decided to walk into the store and give it to the manager – with the expectation and hope that someone would soon miss it and come back to retrieve it. I also wanted to show my daughter what I believed was the right thing to do. 

All the store staff were talking about it when my daughter and I went up to the cash register to ring out. I told the cashier that I had been the one to find the bill and hand it to the manager. He looked at me like I had two heads, and then said, “You’re a really good person. Good things will come back to you.” I just shrugged my shoulders – as far as I was concerned, I had done the right thing and the incident was over.

But this small moment has engendered an inordinate amount of conversation and philosophizing over the past few days. 

An American Coat of Many Colors

Truth Thursday

Ghana.
Rwanda.
Ethiopia.
Philippines.
England.
Bolivia.
Zimbabwe.
El Salvador.

These are the countries from which eight children in my son’s fifth grade class are first generation immigrants. 

That’s not to mention the boy who was adopted from Japan, or the girl who was adopted from China, or the girls whose father was a Zambian doctor. Or the children whose families hail from Poland, Germany, Russia and Israel at least a couple of generations ago.

So of the 25 kids in his class, more than half are either first generation immigrants, or have families that have roots in other countries.

Sitting in the classroom at Piney Branch Elementary School is like a social studies lesson in micro globalization. I had the great fortune to be there last month for the annual international feast, the school’s solution to the December holiday mayhem.

In preparation for their party, the students composed poems, “Where I’m From,” and wrote reports on their country of origin. These poems have always been one of my favorite pieces of the 5^th grade curriculum, as even the most non-poetic student will string together several words of beauty as he or she describes his or her roots.

Who's Your Hero?

Fatherhood Friday

Someone once told me that one of the greatest things about having kids is that you're their hero. In fact, I think a couple of people shared that observation with me. I don't know where I first heard it but I've really noticed it lately with my two-year old. I'm his hero.

When I come home at the end of the workday and he greets me like I'm a rock star, well, it rocks. The boss might have leaned hard on me, the wife might be upset with me because I still haven't called the handyman and the neighbors might be irritated because its been too long since I mowed the lawn. But no matter what I do (or don't do) I'm superman in the eyes of my two year old.

Of course, things change and as kids get older so does their notion of a hero. I imagine I was my eight year old's hero for a while too. But now he's discovered major league baseball and while I think he still counts me as a pretty cool dad, Prince Fielder has replaced me at the top of the hero list. 

The truth is, I can relate. My own hero evolution went something like dad to sports stars to rock stars to powerful historical figures to where I find my heroes today. I'm not sure exactly how to qualify who those people are but in general they can be defined by their imagination, creativity or passion or they are just really good people. To quote Abraham Joshua Heschel: "When I was young I admired clever people. Now that I'm old I admire nice people." 

Whoever my kids identify as heroes at whatever stage in life, I would encourage the idea of having heroes at all. People to emulate, learn from and inspire us. In fact, I would hope that they have many heroes along the way.

One person who I never thought of as a hero but I'm starting to rethink is Steve Jobs. Last week when I heard the comparisons to Thomas Edison I thought it was a bit much. Now, the more I think about it he may very well have been the Edison of our times.

Maybe its not correct to say he's a hero, as much as someone to admire. Ingenuity, perseverence, creativity, confidence, every experience is a life lesson. He created the iPad, iPod, the modern personal computer, the modern animated film and the entire music industry. Much to be said. But I think it was his commencement address to Stanford students in 2005 that really got me thinking. There are a lot of commencement addresses out there. I guess his has some added meaning these days. Check it out for yourself: http://news.stanford.edu/news/2005/june15/jobs-061505.html

I think its one I'll save for my kids.

(photo credit: http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o87/SpaceNut_01/Meeting-Superman-2840-bst.jpg)

The 21st Century Day the Music Died

Therapy Tuesday
Photo by: Julie Bindeman

Every American over the age of 10 has a story about September 11, 2001. Depending on your age, it might be the only pivotal moment in history that you experienced, or one of many. I'm in my 30's, so my first historical moment was when I was in 2nd grade and watching the momentous flight of The Challenger Spaceship. Until it was abruptly turned off while we watched the launch in school. Later, we were told that the ship had an accident.

I also remember September 11, 2001. Vividly, as most of us do. I can tell you where I was, what I was doing, and the emotions that I experienced. The unprecedented fear that was caused on that single day was tangible and widespread. Mixed in with that was solidarity. For the moment, Americans were able to put aside their personal longings and join together for the greater good. We were inextricably linked as people and human beings. That result from such tragedy was amazing, and unfortunately, too short-lived.

There has been other historical (and emotional) moments in the last 10 years that are etched in memory. The pride I felt when America was able to put on racial blinders and elect an African-American to serve as President. Finding both Saddam Hussein and Osama Bin Laden. Although, their deaths made me sad. Not because I think they were wonderful people, but the blood lust that was inspired by them scares me. Their personification of evil is also terrifying.

Certainly a lot has happened to me as an individual in 10 years. I have experienced great joys--getting married, receiving my doctorate, buying our first home, and birthing my first child. I have had my share of sorrow--losing known loved ones, the grief felt of life ending too prematurely, and dreams that died.

I chose to be reflective in this blog post. We can get so caught up in the small picture of life--the day to day struggles, that we can lose sight of something larger. I can't define what that might mean to you, but we each have that picture. Hopefully, as we reflect on the past 10 years, our joys outweigh our sorrows.