Parenthood: Week 290 - Bear Down

I was getting annoyed at all of those Bears’ fans and the concept of football as a whole.

I love being a parent. I love my boys, and I love my life. Nothing I do for my family I define as a sacrifice. I chose to get married, I chose to have kids, and I chose Sunday morning to drive my family to the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago to celebrate Ethan’s first birthday, which was a couple days earlier. No one forced me into any of this, which is why I’ve very careful about how I vent my frustrations related to being a dad.

There are countless frustrations that come along with being a parent in modern-day American society. While we enjoy plenty of lip-service when it comes to the importance of families and children, little economic and political work has happened by those currently in power at the federal level to actually help kids (e.g. public-school funding, gun-control). The fact that there are children in our country who do not have enough to eat, while there is plenty of resources to make sure not one child ever goes hungry in America ever again, is a clear sign that there are in fact many people who don’t actually care about children and families.

As a parent you move through society, and life, dealing with all of this in stride because for many parents, like me, this was all a choice. Now it’s important that I pause and state that having a child when you want to have to child and felt “ready,” is a privilege that I have enjoyed that many parents do not have.

I’m going to give you a peak in on some of my frustration, and well, rage because, it’s a part of parenting, and it needs to be acknowledged. I was really angry that after driving down to the Shedd Aquarium, on a Sunday which should have taken 45 minutes took an hour and a half. Then there was another hour of driving around, realizing there was no parking and getting out of that area because there was a Bears game.

It is frustrating that my families plans to go to the aquarium was a lesser priority than a football. Our needs were superseded. I’ve spent my entire life being made fun of for what I enjoyed as entertainment: comic books, sci-fi movies, geek culture, action figures, and professional wrestling. These are things that have and continue to bring me joy, and I was and still am to some extent still are made to feel less then because of my fandom. It’s not fair that my families desires for an outing were put aside for someone else’s.

When was the last time a person couldn’t go to a professional sports game because the parking was closed down for children’s concert? Yeah, that sounds preposterous, but so is spending millions of dollars on a league which still has an openly racist mascot, and fails to use its power and influences to fight for the rights of the Black players who make the owners (many of whom are white) millions.

We drove another forty-give minutes and eventually got to the Museum of Science and Industry, and we have a great time there. But it took a very frustrating two-hour car ride to get to the point in which I was laying back in the Giant Dome Theater with Ollie on top of me enjoying a half an hour film about the ocean. Even though the film was mediocre, sharing that moment with Ollie on top of me, and Diana and Ethan sitting next to me was wonderful. Ethan looking up at the screen with wonder and awe was magical. The hour car ride home wasn’t, but I don’t regret my choices.

Part of what bugged me about the Bears’ game was seeing all of those guys tailgating, spending hours together when I didn’t have that kind of time for myself.  Yes, I chose to spend time with my family but this doesn’t mean though that part of me isn’t jealous of what those guys have. I wish that I could find a space and talk about what I love in open and know that others will accept my interests. I wish I had more time for myself, and I wish on some level that I could care less about my family, and be satisfied with being less of a father.

 But I can’t, it's just who I am.

 I’d rather be myself and be lonely, than be something I’m not and be accepted by others.

Being a parent is hard, and being your genuine self is also really hard, but both of these things bring meaning to life like nothing else.  And that feeling laying in bed at night knowing that you did right by your family and yourself, that makes everything worth it.   

Year 9: Week 8 - Pride

“My father is Gay.”

There was no shame in her voice, or embarrassment. The 3rd graders statement was not frivolous or boastful. She wasn’t sharing this fact about her life to get a reaction from her peers or draw undue attention to herself. “My father is Gay” was a statement of pride.

In our study of “Simple Gifts” in 3rd grade music, I want to show them how this song was meaningful to our school, American culture, and themselves. I teach them about the tradition of performing this song at our Thanksgiving Assembly every year by the 3rd grade, and show them some artwork in our school that referred to the song.

The way I showed them that this song had meaning outside of our school was by sharing with them different performances of this song. There was a performance by Blast, I showed them the arrangement that was performed at President Obama’s first inauguration, and we watch wonderful performance by the Gay Men’s Chorus of Los Angeles.



I wrote the words “Gay Men’s Chorus of Los Angeles” on the board and meticulously explained each word in that title. I saw some furrowed brows as I explained what affinity meant and why it was important at times to be with people you share a connection. I talked about how sometimes I feel comforted being around people of color, and that was an important space for me. Also, I talked about being around other dads. I explained that this was a good thing as long as it wasn’t what you did all of the time socially because being around people who are different than you is awesome, and very important.

After I unpacked what it meant to be “Gay,” she raised her hand and shared with the class how the her dads were also Gay with a smile. The pride in her voice was noticeable, and made the other students lean in with interests.

I thanked her for sharing and that I’m glad that she saw a connection between the men in this video and her own parents. In this lesson, she saw her family, and her parents. She received the message that her family was valued, seen and honored. And in that space the other students were reminded that this pride was not just something seen in a video, but part of their own classroom community. 

There are challenges ahead, and many examples of ignorance and hate, but the progress is undeniable. Twenty years ago, a teacher may not even share this video, let alone have a student talk about her Gay dads with this same pride and feel support for a teacher and her peers.

This is not how it is all across our country, but it is present for some and it can be the future for all.

Parenthood: Week 289 – Sick Day

Hard times come and hard time go, and one of the hardest times as a parent is when your kids are sick.

There’s a lot of moments and situations in which parents prove that they have “it.” Changing a poopy diaper with one wipe, nursing a kid in challenging situations, taking a baby on a plane, getting two kids ready for school in the morning (seriously this can take super-human efforts and abilities to accomplish) are all really difficult at times. The sick thing, ugh, is just the worst.

You know that it's inevitable. At some point, probably a couple times a year, your kids will get sick. Sometimes it’s minor, a stuffy nose, that is gross but doesn’t amount to anything serious or even a missed day at school. Or it can be life-threatening, an allergic reaction that triggers an asthma attack. Some of the treatments are candy-flavored medicine, but some of the treatments them can seem as traumatic as the sickness itself.

There are times when you are told to simply do nothing besides some over-the-counter drugs. It’s a virus the doctor says, which means that you have to let it work its course. Other times you get antibiotics, which feels slightly better than nothing because, there’s an action that is being taken that should show improvement pretty soon.

It’s hard to know when to call the doctor. You don’t want to feel like you are overreacting, and being that parent, but at the same time, you don’t to have things spiral out of control. You search on the internet for some guidance, deal with that new forehead thermometer, which is more comfortable for the child, but gives an annoying wide-variety of results.  You have to make decisions. Sometimes you are alone in these moments of crisis, but other times your partner is there, and the dynamics of your relationship, the true feelings you have for each other are revealed.

If you are parents as true partners you will lean into the one who is most worried and do what makes them feel best, not because it’s logical, but because it’s not worth being right if someone feels gaslighted. When you have a sick kid, it’s not about which parent is right or wrong. There’s no winning in these discussions, two parents are on the same team. If there’s a issue between the two parents, well, it’s going to get rough.

In the night, when the coughing won’t subside, and the fever is too high, but not high enough to take the child into the emergency room, you hope that something will change. You wish that you could somehow absorb the sickness from your child into your own body, or you wish that somehow your child could absorb your life energy from your sheer will and love and just get better.

You know that your child is contagious, and you’re not sure whether you had what they had when you were a kid, but you hug them anyways. You let them sleep in your bed,  knowing that you will probably catch what they have, but you don’t care about becoming sick, because you care too much about the child suffering in your arms.

When the morning comes and the fever breaks, when the cough subsides, and the lungs are clear, your shoulders relax knowing that after many restless nights, you will finally be able to sleep peacefully tonight. You know that there will be more moments your child is sick and these hard times will come again. Even with this knowledge you don’t give up, you get busy.  You get up, you make breakfast, and you do the endless number of tasks it takes to care for your child.

Because that’s what it means to be a parent.

Year 9: Week 7 – The Space For Feelings

It was a challenging concept for my 5th graders, the idea that one could experience different emotions co-currently was a major theme in the “Have You Ever Seen The Rain?” We had learned how to sing the song and when I asked the students to describe the emotions in the song, and the vast majority of said that the emotion was, “happy” and no one wrote multiple emotions.



We worked through explicating the lyrics of this song, and thinking about how weather typically is associated with certain emotions (e.g. sunny day-happy, rain-sadness). I asked the students to think about a moment in their lives when the “have seen rain on a sunny day,” a moment when they feel happiness and sadness. As I felt the activity of writing settle down, I stared framing our sharing.

Okay y’all. I’d like to invite people to share their memories and experiences. Bear in mind that what we are doing here is not only sharing events, but also sharing emotions. So please be conscientious about your reactions and make sure that you show support with your posture, your silence, and your reactions.

Students began sharing. One student talked about attending to a going away party, being happy that the party was fun but also sad that her friend was moving away. Another students talked about going to sleep-away camp, enjoying the experience, but missing home. At the beginning of the sharing period, I noticed that a girl had raised her hand but quickly lowered it. After the third or fourth person shared and the other students had listened respectfully she raised her hand again.

I called on her, as she shared, “I had a playdate with my BFF, and I had a really great time, but when I got home, my other BFF, my dog, had passed away.” As she talked, I turned my chair to face her and looked at her directly, trying to give her support through eye contact. Part of me knew that I probably should be checking in with other students around me to make sure that other students were being respectful, but I decided to take a chance, trust that they were feeling the moment, and maintain my focus on her.

After she was done, there was a silence in the room, she looked up at me, and forced a small smile.  I told her that I appreciated that she shared and that that she this a great example of the what we were talking about, and the meaning of the song.  The class gave her space to share, and gave me the space to be there for her.

When I asked the class to reflect about a positive thing about the class at the end of class, one student said that she we had done a good job being supportive of each other. I agreed and thanked them for their efforts and the empathy that they showed each other.

I ended the class affirming this feeling.

When you give each other space to share our thoughts and feelings, it makes them feel comfortable in the same way that we feel more comfortable when people respect our physical space. Providing this feeling of comfort in this way makes people feel important, and valued. When you listen with care, you are saying that you care about what they say, and who they are as people. You are expressing to them that you see them and see them as an important part of our classroom community.    

Parenthood: Week 288 – Failing To Explain...

Dan Savage, author, journalist and advocate, likes to demonstrate empathy with other parents who are facing the challenging of talking to their children about sex, by talking about the failing in his own talk with his son. He describes about how he forgot to tell his son one of the most important things about sex, that it should be for pleasure.

I felt the similar failing last night with my son.

Diana, my wife, has been reading Roald Dahl’s masterpiece, Matilda to Ollie, my five-year old. After reading the descriptions of Miss Honey and The Trunchbull, she talked about how the Trunchbull mows over everyone in her path. Ollie responded, “She sounds kind of like a Republican.”

While this was funny, and one of those, “kids say the darndest things,” moments, but it also made me sad. Earlier in the day, Ollie sat on my lap as I filled out my mail-in ballot for the upcoming primary election. Like two years ago, I am going on a fifth-grade outdoor retreat during the election, and like two year ago, I let Ollie help me with the ballot.

I don’t remember talking to Ollie about this two years ago, but I do remember feeling hopeful, and proud. This time was different. As Ollie sat on my lap, asking me about why I was selecting certain people, I felt determined but also concerned.

I think it’s important that I understand and process own feelings before I share them with Ollie, but that’s not always possible, and that’s okay. However, these moments are really hard. For anyone to say they have fully processed, and fully understood what has been happening in our country in the past two years, is not being honest with themselves.

I am a Democrat, and my liberal views have only become stronger in the past two years. I admit that my thoughts and language about Republicans, have not always been elevated. At times, I feel this darkness is an important part of dealing with words and policies that are objectively some of the worst in American history. This isn’t hyperbole, this is factual. For example, offensive racist and sexist comments continue to come from the 45th and his administration's treatment of children who have illegally crossed into America is right up there with the treatment of Native Americans.

Evenly though the current administration continues work that compromises the rights of Americans, there are those in the Republican party who do not see it this way. Where I believe the deliberate action needs to be taken to combat racism and sexism, many Republicans feel that focusing on the economy is more important. This is how I explained the difference between the parties to Ollie, a difference in priorities.

I also explained to Ollie that the Democrats were fighting harder to have people that looked like mommy and himself as leaders in our government and that this was really important. All types of people should be leaders, not just white men. I don’t think I said anything overtly negative about Republicans to Ollie, but the feeling may have come across.

I tried.  Ollie saw me vote, we talked, he doesn't completely get it, but honestly, neither do I.  What I do understand is that we got to do better for our kids, and create a world where people can debate issues with more civility, and a place where leaders actively work to protect people's rights and fight oppression. 

I hope that the story takes a different turn in November.  We need this as a country, my boys deserve this. 

Year 9: Week 6 - BORING?

I’ve been asked if my job ever gets boring, teaching the same grades every year. I usually explain that it’s different all the time. I talk about how teaching “Hot Cross Buns,” on the recorder to students is different and a challenge every year because each student is a unique human being. The different dynamics of the classroom community make every year a different challenge, and this is what makes each day of teaching exciting, challenging, and definitely not boring.

Another reason that my job isn’t boring is that my work as a teacher in this school is charged with the mission of responding to current events, and society as a whole. When David Bowie passed away, I taught my students about him, and when the film Selma came out, my 8th graders performed “Glory,” a song from the soundtrack. Part of my job is to help my students better understand the culture that surrounds them. While a lot of what I weave into my classroom is positive, and explicit reflections of events and people in pop culture (e.g. listening to Aretha Franklin sing, to understand her impact), more and more of what I’ve been weaving into my work reflects a need to address problems in our society that we can no longer ignore as teachers.

The events of the past two years have made it clear that our society needs education to specifically teach about anti-racism, social justice, anti-colonialism, how to be a productive and active citizen, and with recent events consent, and destructive expressions of masculinity. One of the factors that has led to the issues, and much of the strife in our country is flaws in our education system. In no way am I saying that this is the most important, or primary reason there are people who claim to be patriots but lack the basic mission of our constitution to ensure rights to citizens, is because of teachers, but it’s an important factor to consider. Keeping in mind that teachers are often hindered by out of date text books, and a lack of sufficient funding for professional development, and y’know…pencils.

I’ve heard music teachers say that they don’t teach about certain these kinds of topics because they are “music” teachers. When we think this way, we miss an opportunity to teach about these topics that music can help students understand. Every single thing we do, from how we sit students, assign instruments, and present music without thought communicates our own bias. However, keeping the topics in the previous paragraph in mind as essential makes the music classroom become a place where learning is relevant, important, and essential.

The fact that I can go to work responding to the darkness and negativity in the world, by teaching my students to embrace diversity, fight for equity, and work for inclusion nurtures my soul.

As President Obama said, “The best way to not feel hopeless is to get up and do something. Don't wait for good things to happen to you. If you go out and make some good things happen, you will fill the world with hope, you will fill yourself with hope.”

Making good in the world, and nurturing hope in myself and my students is never boring.

Parenthood: Week 287 – Co-sleeping

Ethan totally co-sleeps more than Ollie did when he was his age. With Ollie we more determined that our bed would be “our” space, and that Ollie wouldn’t spend a lot of time in the bed. We did a pretty good job with this. The process we most often used to get him to sleep was rocking him to sleep or pacing around the room. If there was any co-sleeping going on it would be in Ollie’s crib. At least with me, I don’t think Diana was every that into climbing into Ollie’s crib.

We did nap with Ollie in our bed, but for the most part, he stayed out of our bed, especially for long periods of time. When Ollie moved out of his crib into a bed, he didn’t even realize that he could crawl out of his bed, go to our room, and climb into our bed. We literally had him practice climbing out of bed and come into our room. We totally regretted that a couple weeks later when he did that every single night for a couple weeks.

There are mornings when he climbs into cuddle, but this doesn’t happen very often anymore. It used to happen every morning. And there are times when I wake up in the middle of the night and realize he’s sleeping in my arms, seeking comfort from a nightmare.

I don’t regret at all, how we managed Ollie as a baby, toddler, and now as a five-year-old when it comes to sharing our bed. He knows that if he needs this space with us, it’s there. We were able to maintain this space for us in a way that worked for him. I feel that Ollie has always had plenty of physical affection, which is a priority for us.

Ethan pretty much slept all night in our bed last night, and for a good chunk of the night before, and the night before that. Maybe it’s because I’m five years older, but I don’t have it in me to pace around the room, or rock to get him back to sleep. These processes work pretty well because the transfer from the rocking chair to the crib is a lot smoother than from the bed to the crib. Why bring him into bed instead of the rocking chair, or walk around the room pacing? Because it’s more comfortable for me, I can sleep better, and it works to get Ethan back to bed.

The only problem is I end up with Ethan perpendicular to me between me and Diana. If it’s a good night, I have Ethan’s face close to mine, if I get the short end, I have these little feet, mind you very cute little feet, kicking me in the face. While this may work for Ethan, his movements and the knowledge that he is in bed makes me not sleep as well. I’m not so much worried that I will roll over on top of him, I’m more concerned that he will roll out of bed. He’s right at that age when he crawls right off of things, with no sense of danger. 

It seems like he’s a more natural co-sleeper than Ollie. I’m not sure if this is true, but it seems like this is the case. Do I sometimes wish he wasn’t in our bed? Of course, especially when I downgrade from his feet in my face to his butt in my face. Last week around 3am, I was laying in bed, with Ethan held in my left arm. Sleeping on the left side of the bed, my arm kept catching him as he tried to roll of the bed, and then would eventually settle back down. I looked at the clock, and tried to do the math of how much time I had to sleep, and then I told myself to relax, and enjoy the moment. Yes, Ethan in my arms meant that I would be tired…most of the day, but I also knew that there would only be a finite amount of times this would happen, so I turned to him, held him closely, and felt his soft breath on my cheek, and smiled.

Year 9: Week 5 - Lessons In Consent

She didn’t say a thing.

She just looked forward. She didn’t spin around and give the boys around her a look or tell them that what they did wasn’t okay. She just stood there quietly facing forward.

This class of 3rd graders were waiting to be invited into the music room before class, and as I was explaining to them what we were going to do today, one boy shoved another boy into that girl. His body pushed against hers, and the boys giggled, as she stood their quietly.

As I explained their error, their intrusion on her space, and on her body, they didn’t really seem to get it. It just didn’t seem like a big deal to them. They were focused on the fact that there was no ill will between the two boys for the push. They clearly had some agreement between them that this kind of physical play was consensual.  Their intrusion on her, seemed inconsequential. So, we talked some more right then, and when one of those boys poked a girl with a xylophone mallet, he was done with that activity, so we could talk some more. We ended the class talking about respecting people’s bodies, and consent.

****

I could clearly hear her say “no,” when she walked to her seat. He thought it was funny to accuse her of touching the iPad I use for music class. When he told her that she had done this she said “no,” and then he said it again, moving into her space and getting closer physically to her. By the time I had moved to that part of the room, she had said “no,” five times, and only after I gave him my most severe “teacher look,” and told him “stop talking, and sit down,” in my angriest, quietist and most intense Edward James Olmos Commander Adama voice, did he stop.

I knew that this boy had a lot going on and that he didn’t fully understand the nuances of his error, so I simply told him after class that if anyone tells him “no,” even if you think they are joking, which she clearly wasn’t, that he had to stop what he was doing. Period. "No" meant to stop immediately. and that response to other’s objections had to be honored immediately. I was conscious that I was standing looking down at him and in that moment, he needed authority, and feel the strength of my words.

I found her about to go to lunch and asked her for a moment. Even though she was short, when I sat down in that little 3rd grade chair, I was looking up at her. I told her that it was not okay that he didn’t stop when she said “no.” I explained to her that I had a talk with him and I had seen what she did: the right thing. I told her that it was important that she stand up for herself, and that she should never stop expressing her feelings even though it may feel like people aren’t listening. “Someone will hear you voice, and today that person was me.I” I said goodbye telling her how much I enjoyed having her as a student and that she was important to the class and our community.

******

Every single class this week, I taught about consent. I discussed how interrupting people when they were performing or participating in a discussion was an invasion of space akin to standing too close to someone and making them feel uncomfortable.  I explained that it was essential in our music classroom that people feel safe, and comfortable. And I talked about  how we would continue community building work in the context of learning about consent, to create make a space where all student feel, seen, valued, and respected.

That’s more than a goal, that’s a promise.

Parenthood: Week 286 – The Fluffy One

This past week has been tough for many reasons. If you read my last blog post you have an idea of how current events are affecting my life, and if you are Facebook friends with me, you probably have an idea of another thing that has been on my mind.

Buffy got attacked recently by another dog. Diana was by herself, it was unexpected, it happened really fast, and it was scary.  This isn’t the first time we’ve been here. This series of blog posts described the first major incident in which Buffy was attacked

That moment when Buffy was attacked was one the most memorable, and most important moments in my life. It was the coming together of a broadening view of love, responsibility, and relationships. It helped me understand what it meant to really love for another that you raise, and the reality of what you really take on when you become a parent.

Now if you don’t think that having a dog is like being the parent of a human child, that’s fine. People have different views on this one, but for me, being Buffy’s owner, has also felt more like being her parent, and this feeling has only become stronger now that I have two less fuzzy children.

After cleaning up Buffy’s behind, scrubbing her puke out of carpets, giving her medicine through a plastic syringe, and being peed on by her, nothing my boys have done have really grossed me out. That moment when you lean into the grossness, and your care for your little one overcomes you natural aversion to the mess, you are embracing and expressing a love that goes beyond what is easy, to what is hard.

And this week has been hard.

Seeing Buffy’s with a small patch of fur shaved off, and this wound slowly drain and heel, has felt heart-breaking. I know that she’s comfortable because in addition to antibiotics she’s on pain medication, and she is eating digesting just fine. However, I still feel really sad. I keep telling myself that this will all soon be a memory, but the healing process just feels like it’s going so slowly. While seeing Buffy walk around the house with her cone on is sometimes funny like when she bonks into things, her defeated groan as she lays down, giving up on trying move with the cone on makes me wish I could do something more for her.

There are limits in my relationship with Buffy.  There are experiences I can never share with her, and things that I can never make her fully understand.  However my love for her continues to grow through the moments we share, and a love beyond my understanding.