Three Generations and One Simple Gesture that brings them together
A Father's Day Reflection
My 4-year-old son did a really funny thing the other day. We were all hanging out together in our living room, decompressing from the day's events, when all of a sudden my son, who was standing up, did a "stop short" (no, not the one from Seinfeld!), popped out his eyes in surprise, made an "O" shape with his mouth, and looked straight at me.
At first, I didn't think anything of it. It was just another random bizarre moment (of many!) in our household until I had a moment later in the evening to really think about what he did. That's when I realized: wow, he did almost the same mannerism/gesture that my dad used to do when I was a kid.
These are (mostly) harmless things in the everyday dynamics of one's family, and most anyone not intimately familiar with the inner workings of their own family wouldn't understand. But it is something that really stood out to me – so much so that I felt like I needed to write about it on this Father's Day. Because of this "holiday," it gives me an excuse to reflect on the relationship of fathers and their children. This now goes both ways for me: I have a father and I am one. No matter what is happening in this world today, that will never change.
Before I dive into the dynamics of my own experience in fatherhood, I wanted to step back and take a look at the man I've known over the past 40 years, my dad Stephen Meeker. Everything I know about parenting, especially as it relates to the dynamics of a father and son, I owe to my dad. I made a similar homage to my mother, Kathleen, in this earlier post during Mother's Day, so in keeping with the tradition, I wanted to do the same for my dad.
Like my mom, I often imagine what the man was like well before my brother, sister, and I, and even before my own mom was in the picture. The time period that always stands out most to me is his time in the US Army during the Vietnam War. I know bits and pieces of his time there, but I'm sure there are certain details of that experience he has purposely withheld for obvious reasons – what a terrifying and horrific experience it must have been.
Still, I was and still am eager to know more. From what I know, he was part of the 82nd Airborne in the US Army and was "in country" from 1969 – 1970. Although he wasn't doing any parachuting as the name of the division would imply, his experience did have him leading a platoon and driving truck convoys of troops and munitions to and from the various bases and supply drops that would occasionally be shot at by hostiles. From time to time, his base would be hit with mortar fire.
Something I also learned that my dad didn't share with me until way later in life was that he had lost his first roommate from college in a helicopter accident in Vietnam. Whether it was shot down or crashed is unknown, but I can only imagine how daunting that memory must be throughout the years.
A lot of what I believe to be the foundation for his character was actually his training before going off to Vietnam. He would be woken up in the middle of the night to be screamed at by a drill sergeant, or had to crawl over a mile on his belly in the rain and muddy terrain, run countless miles, do thousands of pushups – these were just a few of the tasks. I think that stayed with him from then on because as long as I have known the man, I have never seen him sleep past 6 AM, which I'm sure has a lot to do with that.
It is his discipline and his own code that I think has truly stood out to me. While he certainly didn't bring the same intensity his drill sergeants did, there was still a sense of ceremony and conduct my brother and I were expected to consider. Albeit almost informal, my dad and I used to salute each other often before it evolved into a firm handshake and a hug. We'd throw around "10-4" and "Roger" as terms to confirm plans, which is even easier now with the advent of the smartphone.
Those that have worked in corporate America have seen those inspirational posters; examples like the cat hanging on a telephone wire with the caption "hang in there" is one of the more popular and cliché ones. But one day during my brother's and my early adolescence, my dad bought us a poster with a picture of a basketball hoop that said, "you always miss 100% of the shots you don't take," which hung proudly on our staircase as we would come down to the kitchen every day. It was gestures like this as well as sayings like "keep your nose to the grindstone" that instilled that work ethic. While it certainly has taken me a long time to take proverbial "shots," I think it's starting to resonate.
Another father who deserves a huge bit of attention is the other father I gained in my father-in-law, Paul. Marrying into my wife's family has given me a whole new perspective on parenting, in particular from Paul's perspective. He is the product of the California university system and a STEM enthusiast through and through. Most of his career has been in education, beginning as a kindergarten teacher in the Bay Area to teaching math to middle schoolers and finally teaching others how to teach math in his later career. In his retirement, he launched a successful "Math Festival" business, which goes around the state of California to put on "festivals" consisting of math-related exercises like angles, block assembly, etc. for schools of all ages.
The thing that stands out most to me about him is his incredible sense of construction savviness. Unlike me, who opts to slap some glue or tape on something to fix it, Paul always thinks critically about fixing something, considering angles, cuts, materials, etc. before even addressing a fix. He has helped me make many improvements in my house, including repairing our washer/dryer, installing outdoor lights, fixing cracks in our ceiling, and various paint jobs around the house.
Like my own dad, I can see where my wife gets many of her qualities, including the penchant for critical thinking and her natural propensity toward mathematics. I think in some way, we bonded over me wanting to learn how to build and fix more things while he (hopefully!) enjoys teaching me how to properly fix things.
Which now brings me to my own experience as a father to my 4-year-old son. Say what you will about the state of young men today and the economic and social prospects for many, but I feel like I am in the midst of raising a good person. Economist and professor Scott Galloway posits that we are experiencing a male crisis today such as increased loneliness and lack of economic opportunities in the same way that our parents had. The "masculinity" discussion is very prevalent right now, not in the sense of physical strength and shielding emotions but being vulnerable and standing up for what's right, especially as we see our most powerful people not seeming to act like this.
The real challenge that I worry about is my son's place in the "attention economy." I know I am extremely guilty of it when we're tired and we're all sitting in the living room – all I want to do is be on my phone while my son can watch some kid show on Netflix. But I know at the same time, he and his sister are watching us be on our phones. So much so that they see this glowing light box as an instrument of our attention, and therefore they want to have that same power.
And of course, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the tantrums, which happen on an almost daily basis. They're usually grounded in some kind of restriction from my wife or me about no more TV or some unhealthy food he should not be eating. He will eventually get the message. I do see him asserting himself in a lot of good ways, mostly being a caring and protective older brother to his sister and also bringing out that clownish behavior both my dad and I display. Speaking of my earlier mention of phones, he has also learned to navigate both my wife's and my phones with ease and is able to put on his favorite shows on Netflix now by himself.
He is also very independent and likes to play out scenes with his action figures all by himself, much like I did as a kid. He could spend hours by himself acting out some kind of scene from a movie he recently watched... ah, it's like looking back at myself in time sometimes.
I know that he has a lot of pent-up energy from his days at school, and his reports from his teachers say he is well-behaved and liked. So I think when he gets home, the proverbial bomb goes off and the tornado comes through our house. In a way, it is reassuring – he feels safe and he can be his whole self, which we are glad to see. It's the limitations of screens and the "two things can be true at the same time" like "I know you're mad and you can't watch TV" that we are still battling on a daily basis.
And all the while, the world keeps turning and sometimes gets scarier and scarier as we look at these external forces at play. The world can be really ugly at times, and there is a lot of pain and suffering that I want to be able to shield my kids from. But if he is anything like me, which I strongly believe to be the case, my son is strong and resilient. I hope to instill in him the ability to see the good in every situation and have a sense of understanding all sides even when he may disagree with something.
Like my upbringing, focusing on the most important people first is going to be the key. I know my son is watching everything I do, good and bad, so I need to set a good example. In return, I intend to stop and pay more attention to the in-between moments of his mannerisms and phrases, but also ask more questions to him and truly get his opinions on things vs. just lecture to him about good and bad. Hopefully my own attempts at being present will also be seen, and he can bring that with him into the hopefully many years ahead for him.