What kind of dad are you?

Monday, April 19, 2010

Ground Control to Major Son

Captain's Blog, Stardate April 12, 2010

Present Day
Home from work, recovering from gastroenteritis. Slowly regaining strength, I decide to take the kids to Rocketship Park with the wife, Honey. When we arrive, Honey quickly scans the park for a suitable match for her and 13-month old, Junior. She finds Johanna, 14 months, and her mom. Honey and Mom share life stories PC (post child), Junior plays in the sand watching Johanna in awe, as she toddles around the park like she’s been doing it all her life.

The Incident
Like an anthropologist, I sit and observe as 4-year old Sonny heads straight for the Rocketship, a four-story, enclosed iron rust bucket circa 1960, which but for its historic landmark status, would have been melted down in book burning, angry mom-mob fashion years ago.

As Sonny climbs the ladders, his pride emits a phosphoric glow (it was only a few months ago that Grandma had to rescue him from the top level and help him climb back to the sand). When he reaches the top, he screams ala Leo Dicaprio in Titanic, “Look Mommy, I’m at the top! Daddy, I can see your office building from here!!”

All this yelling earns the attention of a group of kids back on earth… a 5-year old girl, and 2 boys, age 3 to 4. As they look up, Sonny calls out to them, “I’m bigger than YOU! I’m six-years old!!” (He’s 4). The 5-year old, Alpha, future Justin Bieber fan club president, leads her two minions, Frick and Frak, to the ship and begins to climb up the outside cage like Princess Kong. When she realizes the futility of her climb, Alpha and her boys ascend the internal ladders. When they reach the top, Sonny realizes that these kids are much larger up close and attempts his decent. With a bit of struggle and flailing, Sonny squeezes down the ladders guarded by Frick and Frak.

With the Alpha Gang close behind, Sonny reaches the sand. Soon, Sonny is surrounded and forced to the ground. As he grabs a handful of sand, I step in, releasing a booming yell in my best yard duty voice, “Boys and Girls, Break it UP.” This caught the attention of Alpha’s handlers who stand up and contain the three.

As I tend to Sonny’s bruised ego and shattered pride, I try to share life lessons (e.g., attracting flies with honey, making friends not enemies, knowing the size and skills of the gang before you pick a fight), I flashed back to a pivotal moment in my childhood, and a similar life lesson I learned at Oakbrook Park, in Thousand Oaks, 1984.

Flashback, Nineteen Eighty-Four
Surrounded by an angry mob of fellow middle school kids, yelling, “Fight, fight FIGHT!” I bobbed on my feet, eye to eye with Derek, pushing and yelling, “C’mon Man, C’mon!”

Earlier that morning, as Dave and I rode the side-hack in front of Los Cerritos Middle School, someone chucked an egg from the top floor and broke on the fender near Dave. This act of aggression could not go unpunished. Dave and I had a bad-ass reputation to protect. As we scanned the crowd, I singled out the most likely shooter (read: Which kid did I have the best chance of beating in a fight?). For some reason, Derek was selected. After considerable taunting, a date was set, “After school, dude! Oakbrook Park. You better be there. Don’t be a Puss!”

Cut to the park.

I push. Derek responds:

     Knee to the groin.
     Punch to the face.
     Bloody nose.
     Fight broken up.
     Lesson learned.

Life Lessons
That day began a transformation in me. All this time, I thought I was the cool tough guy, when I was actually just an asshole. I never fought again. I rerouted my aggression into music and school. I learned reason, conflict avoidance. Made friends, not enemies.

For a child, lessons like these are valuable, and more effective than words. It is my goal as a dad to allow Sonny and Junior to construct their own knowledge, learn from their mistakes. In part, I think this is one of the great perspectives a dad can provide. The Blessing of a Skinned Knee, like Wendy Mogel teaches. I can only hope that their lessons are not as hard learned as mine, that they much quicker studies and have better retention. But I still wonder… Where should a dad draw the line? How much learning is too much?

1 comment:

  1. Very interesting story and well narrated.

    Deciding the point of letting a child or employee gain experience or protecting them is rather interesting. It was a good idea to yell loud enough for the other parents to take notice.

    When I was in elementary school, I had pivotal fight as well. Before the fight, I'd successfully take on two guys at the same time. This one day, during early morning break, I was losing for the first time. In desperation, I charged. He through me to the ground head first on the hard stone. Now, I was really enraged. The rage blinded me and the hit to the head made me dumb. I was on the severe losing end of the fight. The guy quickly through me head first on the ground again.

    The guy and the crowd yelled and begged me to stop to avoid hurting myself more. I did not hear them anymore, because I was not thinking at all. Though, for a split second of clarity, I realized my fight madness and stupor. I gave up. We shook hands. I gave up fighting for good.

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