When asked about the inspiration for the diversity in the casting of the new Spider-Man Homecoming film, the producer Amy Pascal, answered “I would say the inspiration for it was reality.”
The word “diversity” engenders groans for some, inspiration for others, and confusion for many. It’s a word that some see as part of their identity and others find exclusionary. It’s a word that helps us understand our countries greatest struggles, failures and triumphs.
In early human civilization, visual markers like hair color and other cultural expressions like clothing were important ways to identify who was in a tribe and who was in a different tribe. This identification was often critical for the survival of a tribe. This is the frame that evolutionary biologist use to help us understand some of our instincts that bring us to stereotypes and prejudicial thinking.
Embracing diversity goes against some of our more primal instincts and in many ways makes creating a peaceful society more difficult. Consider the biblical story of the Tower Of Babel. God saw that people were making a tower and realized that when people had one language, nothing would be out of their reach. So he made it so they couldn’t understand each other and spread them across the earth.
People have understood for more time in our history than not that diversity makes life more difficult. Examples of people trying to make away with diversity are seen in the history of almost every culture. It’s not just in the Nazi Holocaust. It’s the cleansing cleaning in Georgia in the 1990s, and Mao Zedung’s murder of decedents. In every single era of American history we see effort to tamp down diversity from the Americanization of Native Americans, the discriminations of Irish immigrants, laws that limited marriage to being between white men and women and the current wave of anti-Muslim xenophobia.
Guess what? A lack of diversity in some ways makes teaching easier. If every single student in your class is at the same reading level, then you don’t have to spend as much times creating reading groups. If every single student in your class were on the same club soccer team, teaching soccer as a PE unit would be easier to instruct since many basics would be well established. And if every single student came from the same cultural background, lessons in social studies would be a lot more straightforward since all of the students would be coming to class with the same perspective.
If every music student came in with the same level of musical skills and the same learning styles, I could probably get them to perform more difficult and technically impressive music than with my current cohort of students.
Efforts to create a less diverse society have failed over and over again due to the tremendous efforts by courageous individuals that have inspired other individuals to embrace their own authentic identity. As our human society evolves, it has become unethical and immoral for education to not reflect the progress in our world to create more a diverse and meaningful educational experience.
You can put your head in the sand, and move into a gated community, only hang out with people who go to your same church, and try your best to only be with people that are just like you. You can try, but it’s a loosing battle. You want to have kids? They will likely mess up your perfectly homogenous existence. You want to make money? You will probably have to deal with people who aren’t like you. You want to experience art and culture? When you take away all of the foods, and television shows, that are influences by other cultures, there’s not a lot left. Forget music. It’s nigh impossible find a song to rock out to that isn’t an amalgamation of different cultures.
As the producer spoke about, diversity is reality. Our reality. To ignore what is the current state of our world is to reject what is factual, what is real and what is our shared reality.
Because you can’t ignore diversity is not the reason to embrace diversity. It’s a reason to stop trying to ignore it. The reason to lean into what is different is multifaceted and tremendously rewarding and meaningful.
When we think about the different facets of diversity in the human experience, the list speaks to every facet of the human experiences: race, ethnic, sexual orientation, gender identity, gender expression, age, socioeconomic, biological sex, geography, learning styles, political beliefs, heritage, careers, hobbies, philosophy, religion, exceptionalities, ideas, and physical ability.
In these ways, and even more, we are different from the each other. We rely on what is similar to find human connections initially, but it is what is diverse in our interactions that inspire thinking, interplay, conversations and the building of human relationships.
We come to a sense of comfort, a feeling of ease when we are with others that allow us to be ourselves, people who embrace our differences. Whenever we hide or hold part of ourselves back there is at the least mild discomfort, and at its worst, great pain and depression.
When we are told that parts of our own diversity are inferior, and not to be expressed with pride, it builds a level of insecurity that is far too often expressed through intolerance, and meanness. Our work to embrace diversity is as much about ourselves as the people we encounter in our lives.
Yes, it is work. It is difficult, it is inconvenient, and it is complicated. Being brave enough to embrace what makes you different, things that you were told aren’t right, is very difficult and it can feel very lonely. It means going up against the expectations of friends, norms of society and the words of the ones who claim to love us. Embracing diversity in others means learning to embrace discomfort, and seeing for people for who they truly are, not for what they are in our eyes. It means that we go beyond live and let live and move to truly living together.
On the other side of this work is great joy, unimaginable beauty, and a society that is stronger together.
Friday, June 30, 2017
Monday, June 26, 2017
Parenthood: Week 210 – Thomas The Magic School Bus
Ollie carries it with him around the house and he lovingly cuddles with it when he goes to sleep. He brings it into the car and we have to convince him not to bring it everywhere. It’s not a blanket or stuffed animal, it’s a Thomas The Train, pullback racer. It’s a plastic version of Thomas The Train, which is bigger than the toy that can fit on the tracks and it has wheels that wind back when you pull him backwards and upon releasing he moves forward.
I picked up this toy on a whim when Ollie was just about a year old and while it’s been around the house he has never shown great interest in this toy. Something happened a couple weeks ago. I’m not sure what, but every since then, it’s been all about this toy train.
We have a couple theories about what may have led to his love of this toy. I think it may have had to do with his decision to stop sucking his thumb, but Diana’s theory is probably closer to the truth.
The story of how Ollie came to love and snuggle with a Thomas The Train toy after never seeing the television show is revealing about Ollie and our parenting style.
Diana and I were getting pretty tired of Moana. Ollie had been watching this film whenever we gave him his half hour of television time a day and was listening to the soundtrack all of the time. To get him onto something else, Diana watched the Pixar film Up with Ollie. The part of the up that stuck with Ollie the most was not the talking dogs, but the clouds. At a certain point in the film they describe the clouds as being "cumulous nimbus" and this stuck with Ollie.
What followed can only be described as a “study in clouds.” Ollie would sit down and draw clouds, over and over. We were getting backpacks full of pictures of clouds he drew at school. One day, I literally pulled out a dozen sheets of paper on which Ollie had drawn clouds.
To nurture Ollie’s interest in clouds, I showed him every youtube.com clip I could find that talked about clouds and the different types. Then I remembered a Magic School Bus book that talked about the water cycle that I had when I was a kid. I also remember the television show, which I never watched, but I new existed. Not having the book, and wanting to nurture his interest, I bought the water cycle episode of The Magic School Bus and showed it to him. Ollie loved the episode and when I explained that the show was based on a book series, Ollie got really excited.
The next day I took Ollie to the library and we checked out almost every single Magic School Bus book we could find. For the following week, Ollie was obsessed with the Magic School Bus books and the television show.
At some point, Ollie decided that this Thomas The Train toy was a good substitute for the Magic School Bus, so he stared to carry it around pretending it was the Magic School Bus. This pretending game would sometimes last for a solid ten minutes of Ollie running around the house, holding this toy and pretending that it was the Magic School Bus exploring space or the water cycle.
Now, Ollie carries that Magic School Bus toy around everywhere. Now you know why. We could get Ollie an actual school bus toy or explain to him the story of Thomas The Train, but right now he seems content playing with this toy as if it was the Magic School Bus.
It's somewhat baffling, wonderfully charming and awesomely four-year old.
I picked up this toy on a whim when Ollie was just about a year old and while it’s been around the house he has never shown great interest in this toy. Something happened a couple weeks ago. I’m not sure what, but every since then, it’s been all about this toy train.
We have a couple theories about what may have led to his love of this toy. I think it may have had to do with his decision to stop sucking his thumb, but Diana’s theory is probably closer to the truth.
The story of how Ollie came to love and snuggle with a Thomas The Train toy after never seeing the television show is revealing about Ollie and our parenting style.
Diana and I were getting pretty tired of Moana. Ollie had been watching this film whenever we gave him his half hour of television time a day and was listening to the soundtrack all of the time. To get him onto something else, Diana watched the Pixar film Up with Ollie. The part of the up that stuck with Ollie the most was not the talking dogs, but the clouds. At a certain point in the film they describe the clouds as being "cumulous nimbus" and this stuck with Ollie.
What followed can only be described as a “study in clouds.” Ollie would sit down and draw clouds, over and over. We were getting backpacks full of pictures of clouds he drew at school. One day, I literally pulled out a dozen sheets of paper on which Ollie had drawn clouds.
To nurture Ollie’s interest in clouds, I showed him every youtube.com clip I could find that talked about clouds and the different types. Then I remembered a Magic School Bus book that talked about the water cycle that I had when I was a kid. I also remember the television show, which I never watched, but I new existed. Not having the book, and wanting to nurture his interest, I bought the water cycle episode of The Magic School Bus and showed it to him. Ollie loved the episode and when I explained that the show was based on a book series, Ollie got really excited.
The next day I took Ollie to the library and we checked out almost every single Magic School Bus book we could find. For the following week, Ollie was obsessed with the Magic School Bus books and the television show.
At some point, Ollie decided that this Thomas The Train toy was a good substitute for the Magic School Bus, so he stared to carry it around pretending it was the Magic School Bus. This pretending game would sometimes last for a solid ten minutes of Ollie running around the house, holding this toy and pretending that it was the Magic School Bus exploring space or the water cycle.
Now, Ollie carries that Magic School Bus toy around everywhere. Now you know why. We could get Ollie an actual school bus toy or explain to him the story of Thomas The Train, but right now he seems content playing with this toy as if it was the Magic School Bus.
It's somewhat baffling, wonderfully charming and awesomely four-year old.
Friday, June 23, 2017
Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion: The Letter
Next school year I am taking on a new role as one of my school's Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Coordinator Co-Chairs. The following is a version of the letter of interest I wrote to apply for this position.
To Whom This May Concern
I am writing this letter to express my interest in the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) Coordinator Co-Chair position.
We are in a critical moment for our school. Our competition, much of which has lower tuition, or no tuition at all, is getting better. When we consider how we define our school’s place in the educational community, we need to think beyond test scores and technology initiatives. What sets up apart and what will keep us in front of the curve is our mission of creating citizenship through our commitment to diversity, equity and inclusion.
When I first came to this school, the DEI work was an add on for me, like a ornament on the Christmas tree. Over the past seven years, mentoring and professional development opportunities have changed my educational paradigm. DEI work is now the tree — the basis for my curricular, instructional, and assessment choices. I am motivated by my success, my relationships in this community, and the school’s mission to contribute to the growth of other faculty members through the DEI Coordinator Co-Chair position.
My DEI work is found in my classroom, like with the 5th grade unit on the underrepresentation of women in music. It’s in my work as a department chair mentoring a teacher who when first arriving at Parker did not consider the race of the composer in choosing music, and who now actively considers racial representation in his curriculum. And it’s in projects like the Presidents’ Day Morning Ex, based on Of Thee I Sing by Barack Obama, which included teachers and students from all of the divisions to celebrate DEI.
I have worked to create meaningful relationships with teachers throughout the school. I have the wonderful opportunity to work with five different grades over three divisions and regularly collaborate on projects with over a dozen teachers.
I have made opportunities out of unanswerable questions and I know how to make an individual’s vision into reality. I am excited to continue to learn about the fears that cause us to hesitate, the optimism that motivates us, and the passion that lies in every teacher at this school to make our school a more diverse, equitable, and inclusive community.
I am excited about the opportunity of the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Coordinator Co-Chair position. It is an opportunity to serve our school that I have examined with careful consideration of my other responsibilities at this school and the important and sensitive nature of DEI work.
Sincerely,
Kingsley
To Whom This May Concern
I am writing this letter to express my interest in the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) Coordinator Co-Chair position.
We are in a critical moment for our school. Our competition, much of which has lower tuition, or no tuition at all, is getting better. When we consider how we define our school’s place in the educational community, we need to think beyond test scores and technology initiatives. What sets up apart and what will keep us in front of the curve is our mission of creating citizenship through our commitment to diversity, equity and inclusion.
When I first came to this school, the DEI work was an add on for me, like a ornament on the Christmas tree. Over the past seven years, mentoring and professional development opportunities have changed my educational paradigm. DEI work is now the tree — the basis for my curricular, instructional, and assessment choices. I am motivated by my success, my relationships in this community, and the school’s mission to contribute to the growth of other faculty members through the DEI Coordinator Co-Chair position.
My DEI work is found in my classroom, like with the 5th grade unit on the underrepresentation of women in music. It’s in my work as a department chair mentoring a teacher who when first arriving at Parker did not consider the race of the composer in choosing music, and who now actively considers racial representation in his curriculum. And it’s in projects like the Presidents’ Day Morning Ex, based on Of Thee I Sing by Barack Obama, which included teachers and students from all of the divisions to celebrate DEI.
I have worked to create meaningful relationships with teachers throughout the school. I have the wonderful opportunity to work with five different grades over three divisions and regularly collaborate on projects with over a dozen teachers.
I have made opportunities out of unanswerable questions and I know how to make an individual’s vision into reality. I am excited to continue to learn about the fears that cause us to hesitate, the optimism that motivates us, and the passion that lies in every teacher at this school to make our school a more diverse, equitable, and inclusive community.
I am excited about the opportunity of the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Coordinator Co-Chair position. It is an opportunity to serve our school that I have examined with careful consideration of my other responsibilities at this school and the important and sensitive nature of DEI work.
Sincerely,
Kingsley
Wednesday, June 21, 2017
Monday, June 19, 2017
Parenthood: Week 209 - Father’s Day '17
I woke up not to the plastic edge of a Thomas the Tank Engine toy being pressed into the side of my face, or the feeling of a four-year-old pushing me off of my pillow. Instead I woke up to the peaceful sound of Diana breathing next to me. For the past week, Ollie has gotten up early. REALLY early. Now early for us is pre-5 AM. So, it’s not unreasonable for us to want to sleep in until, oh, I don’t know, 6:30!! At least Buffy, our dog isn’t an early risers. . .
I listened carefully for signs of an awake Ollie, but all I heard was the light clacking of Buffy’s nails on the hardwood as she stretched, walked in a small circle, and settled back down in her bed.
Excited at the prospect of beating Ollie up in the morning, I got myself dressed, had a great walk with my puppy and proceeded to go for a nice long run. I hit a personal best on distance (6.2 miles!), and felt pretty good after the workout.
When I woke up Ollie after cooling down it was 7:40.
Not a bad way to start father’s day.
Later in the morning, we met up with my brother, my sister-in-law and his two daughters, one of which I had never met before. We met up to go strawberry picking, which in Ollie’s mind is strawberry eating. We arrived there first and when my brother’s family came, I was overjoyed to say hello to my first niece and excited to meet my second one for the first time.
I remember the moment when I met my first niece. I didn’t really feel like I knew how to hold her. I was nervous but excited. She was simply amazing. I was overwhelmed with joy and pride, proud of my brother and my sister-in-law.
I reached my mom and she carefully handed me this wonderful little one. The feeling of holding such a little baby and how to support her head and the body quickly came back to me after hours of practice when Ollie was a baby. As soon as I got her situated in my arms, she immediately started crying. This didn’t prevent me from crying tears of joy meeting this special one for the very first time. I knew in that moment as a dad what she would mean to my brother and my sister-in-law, and how she would change all of the lives she touched. Fatherhood has made unclehood mean so much more.
In the afternoon, my brother came over with his daughters and Ollie played with the older daughter while we took turns holding the younger one. Ollie fed the baby a bottle a little bit and Buffy got some quality time sniffing the baby and cuddling with the baby.
At one point in the evening my dad took the baby, his new granddaughter to another part of the house. We could hear the baby crying from the other side of the house, but he worked with her and didn’t ask for help. Eventually the baby stopped crying and I walked over and saw him calmly singing to her as she lay sleeping. No one would have faulted him for tagging in my brother or my mom, but my dad kept with her and helped her get relaxed. In that moment I realized where I got my determination as a father. I’m proud of myself for being the kind of man that cares for babies with such patience and love. And I’m proud of my dad for being that kind of man and teaching me to be that kind of dad.
My brother left our house with his daughters and left a bag of stuff for his older daughter behind. He texted to me that he would come by later after the girls had gone to bed to pick it up. I mentioned this to my mom and without hesitation, she told me that she was going to drive over and drop the bag off at their house. She texted my brother and immediately left.
Earlier that day I was talking to my mom about how stressful it was when I would come home from work. There was so much to do to take care of Ollie, the house and Buffy. It seems like a mad rush to get things done, sometimes almost all the way up until Ollie’s bedtime and beyond. However, on these days, I go to bed feeling satisfied and proud that I took care of my family. She agreed that when you push to take care of the people in your life, you find meaning.
My mom quickly figured out that it would be less for her to drive over than for my brother. He had work in the morning, two kids at home and lots to do. So my mom did this thing for my brother reminded me that parenthood doesn’t end when your children reach adulthood. You might think that this thought would seem burdensome and intimidating, but in the context of seeing how my parents care for me and my brother and the love they share with their grandkids, being a parent of an adult sounds like a great chapter in the adventure of fatherhood.
Happy Father's Day!
I listened carefully for signs of an awake Ollie, but all I heard was the light clacking of Buffy’s nails on the hardwood as she stretched, walked in a small circle, and settled back down in her bed.
Excited at the prospect of beating Ollie up in the morning, I got myself dressed, had a great walk with my puppy and proceeded to go for a nice long run. I hit a personal best on distance (6.2 miles!), and felt pretty good after the workout.
When I woke up Ollie after cooling down it was 7:40.
Not a bad way to start father’s day.
Later in the morning, we met up with my brother, my sister-in-law and his two daughters, one of which I had never met before. We met up to go strawberry picking, which in Ollie’s mind is strawberry eating. We arrived there first and when my brother’s family came, I was overjoyed to say hello to my first niece and excited to meet my second one for the first time.
I remember the moment when I met my first niece. I didn’t really feel like I knew how to hold her. I was nervous but excited. She was simply amazing. I was overwhelmed with joy and pride, proud of my brother and my sister-in-law.
I reached my mom and she carefully handed me this wonderful little one. The feeling of holding such a little baby and how to support her head and the body quickly came back to me after hours of practice when Ollie was a baby. As soon as I got her situated in my arms, she immediately started crying. This didn’t prevent me from crying tears of joy meeting this special one for the very first time. I knew in that moment as a dad what she would mean to my brother and my sister-in-law, and how she would change all of the lives she touched. Fatherhood has made unclehood mean so much more.
In the afternoon, my brother came over with his daughters and Ollie played with the older daughter while we took turns holding the younger one. Ollie fed the baby a bottle a little bit and Buffy got some quality time sniffing the baby and cuddling with the baby.
At one point in the evening my dad took the baby, his new granddaughter to another part of the house. We could hear the baby crying from the other side of the house, but he worked with her and didn’t ask for help. Eventually the baby stopped crying and I walked over and saw him calmly singing to her as she lay sleeping. No one would have faulted him for tagging in my brother or my mom, but my dad kept with her and helped her get relaxed. In that moment I realized where I got my determination as a father. I’m proud of myself for being the kind of man that cares for babies with such patience and love. And I’m proud of my dad for being that kind of man and teaching me to be that kind of dad.
My brother left our house with his daughters and left a bag of stuff for his older daughter behind. He texted to me that he would come by later after the girls had gone to bed to pick it up. I mentioned this to my mom and without hesitation, she told me that she was going to drive over and drop the bag off at their house. She texted my brother and immediately left.
Earlier that day I was talking to my mom about how stressful it was when I would come home from work. There was so much to do to take care of Ollie, the house and Buffy. It seems like a mad rush to get things done, sometimes almost all the way up until Ollie’s bedtime and beyond. However, on these days, I go to bed feeling satisfied and proud that I took care of my family. She agreed that when you push to take care of the people in your life, you find meaning.
My mom quickly figured out that it would be less for her to drive over than for my brother. He had work in the morning, two kids at home and lots to do. So my mom did this thing for my brother reminded me that parenthood doesn’t end when your children reach adulthood. You might think that this thought would seem burdensome and intimidating, but in the context of seeing how my parents care for me and my brother and the love they share with their grandkids, being a parent of an adult sounds like a great chapter in the adventure of fatherhood.
Happy Father's Day!
Friday, June 16, 2017
The 1000th Mile
[click here for previous posts on running]
Two 5K’s in two weekends.
One I thought I was doing for myself, and while my time wasn’t bad, it wasn’t a personal best. The second one the next weekend, I did for my aunt-in-law, and during that one I hit the personal best time.
During that 5K, I ran my 1000th mile.
It took 4 years, 9 months, 23 days. to hit this running milestone. In that time, I changed jobs, moved into a house, my son was born. There was one foot injury, ankle issues to work through, three foot doctors, two rounds of physical therapy with great therapists. It’s taken three pairs of shoes, one trusty treadmill, and a trusty iPad (that has thankfully not fallen off the treadmill). While many miles were on that treadmill, hundreds were ran all over Evanston and the campus of Northwestern University, a dozen miles in Bellevue, many more recently in Skokie and five 5K’s in Chicago.
I had an almost four month break from running as I dealt with a long lasting cold that led into pneumonia. After recovering, I looked the 5K’s dates and saw that I had two months. I decided to not sign up and see how training went first. I was happy with how I progressed. This wasn’t the first time I had started running after taking a break. Unlike previous times, I think I set my expectations well and was patient with myself as I got going. The first 5K was the one I had done in years past. It was the Bunny Rock 5K. It’s a nice event because it is family orientated, and pretty chill, but it is a chipped race, so you can get an official time. The second 5K was different.
One of my wife’s paternal aunts had been suffering from brain cancer and recently passed away. To show support for her, one of this aunt’s daughters organized a team to participate in the Chicago BT5K. My two brother-in-laws, who also run (they’ve both done a marathon) and most of her dad’s side of the family came to participate.
The Bunny Rock 5K went ok. The weather was hotter then I had ever raced in, I rushed into the starting area and ended up too far back when the race started. It was a race that didn’t feel great when it happened, and starting in the back of pack and spending so much energy and focus on passing people led to my third best 5K time.
I spent the next week debating what I was going to do at the BT5K race. I wasn’t sure if I had it in me to really race. I didn’t want to go full out and not beat my best time, but I really wanted to hit a personal best. It really felt like a cliché that I was living. Take a chance and go for it, and you could be happy, but you also could fail. While I know I could find meaning in not getting a great time, I had my doubts that I could be satisfied in failure. I felt really bad about not doing great during the Bunny Rock 5K and as much as I change that into a positive in my head, I couldn’t.
I don’t know what made me decide to go for it, but when I got there, and saw all of Diana’s family there and Diana’s wonderful aunt I knew it was the right decision. I got lined up early, started near the front and I went for it. I pushed myself, I attempted to keep up with my brother-in-laws (which I accomplished for about 5 seconds), and I beat my best time by 8 seconds.
When I hit the finish line, my brother-in-laws were there waiting. We decided to walk backwards through the course to find the rest of the family, many of whom were walking the course. What followed was a wonderful hour and talking, catching up and being together as a family. The idea of running a race to raise money for something really didn’t make sense to me before the BT5K. Why not just donate money directly and not spend all the time and energy organizing an event?
What I know now is that when someone you love is dying cancer, there’s very little you can actually do. The feeling of powerlessness is really hard to accept. Yes, you could just write a check, but organizing, racing, walking, doing something that brings people together can help raise funds to cure cancer. More importantly, as you run with people you love, for someone that you love, you feel connected to others. You are reminded that simply being there for the person that you love is the most powerful thing you can do.
I got more miles in these legs. I'm working up to a 10K and I am aiming to get my best times in my life in the future. The more I run, the more I take with me. What's amazing is that these things aren't weights, but rather they are wings that propel me. They are miles the I've ran, the pride of my parents and my wife, the hope I have for the future, and now the memory of my Aunt.
Two 5K’s in two weekends.
One I thought I was doing for myself, and while my time wasn’t bad, it wasn’t a personal best. The second one the next weekend, I did for my aunt-in-law, and during that one I hit the personal best time.
During that 5K, I ran my 1000th mile.
It took 4 years, 9 months, 23 days. to hit this running milestone. In that time, I changed jobs, moved into a house, my son was born. There was one foot injury, ankle issues to work through, three foot doctors, two rounds of physical therapy with great therapists. It’s taken three pairs of shoes, one trusty treadmill, and a trusty iPad (that has thankfully not fallen off the treadmill). While many miles were on that treadmill, hundreds were ran all over Evanston and the campus of Northwestern University, a dozen miles in Bellevue, many more recently in Skokie and five 5K’s in Chicago.
I had an almost four month break from running as I dealt with a long lasting cold that led into pneumonia. After recovering, I looked the 5K’s dates and saw that I had two months. I decided to not sign up and see how training went first. I was happy with how I progressed. This wasn’t the first time I had started running after taking a break. Unlike previous times, I think I set my expectations well and was patient with myself as I got going. The first 5K was the one I had done in years past. It was the Bunny Rock 5K. It’s a nice event because it is family orientated, and pretty chill, but it is a chipped race, so you can get an official time. The second 5K was different.
One of my wife’s paternal aunts had been suffering from brain cancer and recently passed away. To show support for her, one of this aunt’s daughters organized a team to participate in the Chicago BT5K. My two brother-in-laws, who also run (they’ve both done a marathon) and most of her dad’s side of the family came to participate.
The Bunny Rock 5K went ok. The weather was hotter then I had ever raced in, I rushed into the starting area and ended up too far back when the race started. It was a race that didn’t feel great when it happened, and starting in the back of pack and spending so much energy and focus on passing people led to my third best 5K time.
I spent the next week debating what I was going to do at the BT5K race. I wasn’t sure if I had it in me to really race. I didn’t want to go full out and not beat my best time, but I really wanted to hit a personal best. It really felt like a cliché that I was living. Take a chance and go for it, and you could be happy, but you also could fail. While I know I could find meaning in not getting a great time, I had my doubts that I could be satisfied in failure. I felt really bad about not doing great during the Bunny Rock 5K and as much as I change that into a positive in my head, I couldn’t.
I don’t know what made me decide to go for it, but when I got there, and saw all of Diana’s family there and Diana’s wonderful aunt I knew it was the right decision. I got lined up early, started near the front and I went for it. I pushed myself, I attempted to keep up with my brother-in-laws (which I accomplished for about 5 seconds), and I beat my best time by 8 seconds.
When I hit the finish line, my brother-in-laws were there waiting. We decided to walk backwards through the course to find the rest of the family, many of whom were walking the course. What followed was a wonderful hour and talking, catching up and being together as a family. The idea of running a race to raise money for something really didn’t make sense to me before the BT5K. Why not just donate money directly and not spend all the time and energy organizing an event?
What I know now is that when someone you love is dying cancer, there’s very little you can actually do. The feeling of powerlessness is really hard to accept. Yes, you could just write a check, but organizing, racing, walking, doing something that brings people together can help raise funds to cure cancer. More importantly, as you run with people you love, for someone that you love, you feel connected to others. You are reminded that simply being there for the person that you love is the most powerful thing you can do.
I got more miles in these legs. I'm working up to a 10K and I am aiming to get my best times in my life in the future. The more I run, the more I take with me. What's amazing is that these things aren't weights, but rather they are wings that propel me. They are miles the I've ran, the pride of my parents and my wife, the hope I have for the future, and now the memory of my Aunt.
Wednesday, June 14, 2017
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