Sensitive Male Syndrome

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AZjTV0F_0iA

Recently, I had an opportunity to appear on the Dr. Oz show in a fitness segment. The segment featured all men, different shapes, sizes and ethnicities. To appear on the show meant spending a good chunk of the day in a room with all these men. And appearing on national t.v. without a shirt. Doing that was certainly leaning into discomfort, but I hope that my willingness to something so bold will prove to be inspirational to my daughter. My wife asked me if the overall experience was a good one. Yes, it is fun to appear on t.v. I won't lie. But, I was reminded of why it has often been difficult for me to have male friends. I had to endure posturing, assumptions about my sexual orientation, and embracing of other male stereotypes. For instance, the need to ignore the fact that we were there for a show taping. I thought it was a good opportunity to sit and reflect. One of the segments featured processing hair, something that many black women do, but is not at all exclusive to them. As a parent of a girl, and a multiracial one at that, I watched the filming of that segment hoping to gain some knowledge and understanding that I might be able to use with my daughter in the future. But, many of the men were talking loudly during segments, sometimes even objectifying women. There was also a segment featuring a woman who was having trouble communicating with her children and only used yelling to do so. It was having an awful effect on her heart's health. She opened up and revealed how she was never listened to as a child, clearly a new revelation for this brave woman to share with a national audience. (I actually later thanked her for this bravery and honesty.) Unfortunately, this was lost on most of my fellow men in the green room.
A woman observed my parenting on the train recently and told me I should be commended. I was resentful at first. I do want to rise above stereotypes. And my parenting and time invested in my daughter's development is unfortunately still perceived as something few fathers do. But after my experience in the green room, I'm starting to appreciate her comment.

Thoughts on 9/11/2013

September 11, 2013 is the first day of my daughter's official educational experience. As most parents know, that really begins at birth. But, this is her first day of preschool. I could not be more excited about witnessing her growth as a preschool student. We are not putting pressure on her to be anything other than happy. We trust our school to do right by our child. It is especially exciting having been an educator for so long. I will certainly remember this day. However, 9/11 is still such a difficult day in America and New York especially. I am reminded of my 9/11 experience. I am blessed not to have lost someone close. I do remember being nervous about losing some of my college buddies who worked in the area. I was far enough away I was in my second day of work at my new school. We were reeling from the loss of a parent of one of our 8th graders. So, these 8th graders came back after spending the previous day supporting their distraught friend only to find out about these attacks. I was numb when I was told about what we thought was just a crash. Just feeling so awful about that loss of life. Worried that some of my students might have lost a parent. Then, we heard the news of the second plane crash, and we went into full crisis mode. This meant calling every parent and getting our kids home. All of them. A.S.A.P. I must say that teachers across the city rose to the occasion and were some of the unsung heroes that day in how they were cool, calm, collected, and supportive of the students given the circumstances. It was tough not to want to get home and take care of my own, but that had to wait on 9/11. Eventually, we got every kid safely home with a parent or caregiver. Then, it was time to attempt a trip home. As I walked across town, I saw no cars in the streets, which was surreal. And scary. What did this all mean? Was my hometown safe? I walked over to my old school to see my good friend, Erik. He offered to let me crash at his place if I couldn't make it home. It was helpful to go to a place of comfort in that moment. I heard that some trains were running again, so I went with some former colleagues to make a trip home, that didn't come without risk, since we had no idea if we were still under attack. Although it was packed beyond  belief on the train, it was one of the most pleasant subway experiences I have ever had. People were so respectful of each other. So thoughtful and concerned for each other's welfare in this tough time. I only wish we could be like that every day instead of after a devastating incident. I did make it home to Brooklyn that day. What was once a highlight view of the Twin Towers from my courtyard, was now a cloud of smoke. I spent many an evening after that day looking at what remained of the towers and trying to make some sense of what happened. I'll let you know when I do.

I Want My Daughter To See Me Cry.

Recently, I had a moment when I thought of my grandmother, who passed away only months before Camilla's birth. This brought tears to my eyes. It made me think about the type of man I want to be for my daughter. I don't want to hold back my emotions. I want to be sensitive. I want to be thoughtful and concerned. I want her to know that it is not only o.k. for her father to cry when the moment hits him, but that is o.k. for any man to do so. I don't subscribe to many stereotypes, so it should not come as a surprise to hear me say that I don't believe in that old one that men should not cry. I truly believe that crying does not define masculinity. I chose to define it broadly. Besides, many of us think of male professional athletes as the epitome of masculinity. Yet, we don't question for a moment when they cry after winning a championship. One of the lasting images of Michael Jordan is that of him holding the Larry O'Brien Trophy crying while thinking about the loss of his father. Can that be a lasting image of masculinity as well? I know it is unrealistic to think that everyone will buy into this. A man can define manhood any way he deems fit. But I would hope that we won't hold it against someone who is comfortable enough to let the tears flow. All I know is that I am comfortable saying I want my daughter to see me cry.

Carol Dweck and Praising Your Child

I have become a disciple of Carol Dweck who has done work that has focused on the impact of praise on children. For instance, telling a child how smart s/he is versus praising the effort and the result. Rather than continue to summarize her research, I have included a link to a New York Magazine article that focused on children and praise. Check it out!

http://nymag.com/news/features/27840/

Camilla Explains It All Part 2

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-jq0d-JAAUk

Slow Down

About a month ago, I was heading to Target with my daughter. We went without the stroller, so we used the escalator. For the most part, we have always been just fine sans stroller. However, that day was different. A woman decided to be in a hurry. So much so that she decided to that she should move my two year old daughter out of her way on a moving escalator. Needless to say, I was not pleased. I first reminded her to not touch my daughter, especially without her or my permission. Next, I reminded her that it is problematic at best to make a young child move on an escalator. Finally, I shared something I learned years ago when I was starting out as an educator. This motto has really been quite helpful as I have transitioned into parenthood. Children are here to remind us to slow down. (Insert an expletive for dramatic effect if you'd like.)  Doesn't matter if you are a parent, teacher, or woman walking up an escalator. Patience is essential.  Sometimes, you need to remember to slow the ----- down. As she continued her ascent laughing nervously, I was pleased to see another woman smile and nod in agreement. 

Camilla Explains It All Part I

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=naW3R9YPT7Q&feature=youtu.be