Friday Tidings

During my 1970’s-era summer Teen Leadership Camp I can recall those impossibly thin sleeping mattresses, mystery meat meals, and hot, humid days. But the memorable lesson came from all 200 campers gathering for a reading from The Velveteen Rabbit. For those who may need a refresher on that childhood classic by Margery Williams, it’s the story of a furry toy rabbit and a little boy. Becoming Real is what the toy rabbit wants most. Consulting with the Skin Horse, who is already Real, the Velveteen Rabbit asks what being Real means. “Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. It’s a thing that happens to you. When a Child loves you for a long, long time not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.” “Does it Hurt?” “Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.” “Does it happen all at once,” he asked, or bit by bit? “It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It tak

My grandson is one of the millions of students doing online public school from home. He told me it’s not working out so well. As a high school sophomore, he missed his final months of his freshman year, and now is trying to navigate even tougher courses without the in-face interaction with teachers and students. For my grandson, he needs that structure, that kind of on-the-spot accountability, and the routine that his parents are trying so hard to establish during these homestretch years of adolescence. I homeschooled my kids—but only until the age my grandson is now. My kids took the educational baton and ran with it by age 15. Until then, they used the curriculum I’d found to meet the required standards, but we added the bonus things like community youth orchestra for my daughter, and a daily job managing a dog kennel for my son. Neither of those activities led to a future career, but both equipped my kids with skills I could never teach and they couldn’t master from reading a book.

I've spent some time this week thinking about those indelible images from September 11, 2001. Remember how we watched our televisions in horror as hijacked jets struck the iconic Twin Towers and the Pentagon? Then we heard the incredible account of Todd Beamer and his fellow passengers on Flight 93 as they stormed the jet cockpit and crashed before the hijackers could hit the intended target—our nation’s capital. Beamer’s final words, “Let’s roll” became our inspiring call to action.   Patriot Day honors those who lost their lives that day—just a regular day in a lifetime that they thought would have many tomorrows. I’ve had almost 7000 days to live since then. I’ve finished raising my family and saw the birth of my two grandkids. I even reached retirement age.  But not those September 11 Patriots. They left their hopes, dreams, and legacies behind.  I wonder what they’d think of our America 2020. It’s not like their America was perfect—it never has been. But how am I doing in m

My grandson was about five when he asked me about a painting of his much younger-looking Papa playing guitar. I told him Papa was about 16 when the picture was painted. I told him that when Papa was younger he was planning on being a musician and writing songs for his career. My grandson asked how come he hadn’t. How do you explain the complexity of real careers and the dreams that don’t pay the bills? I told my grandson that Papa still played guitar, it just wasn’t his real job. But I assured him that you don’t have to give up your dreams. Papa hadn’t. He was just waiting for the right time for it to be his new job—something he did for fun, not for money. As we honor the 157 million American workers this Labor Day, there are many doing work they didn’t anticipate doing. Others may have landed their dream job. It’s still work, and it takes about 35 years to reach the finish line.  Work is what builds our lives, our families, creates new opportunities, and strengthens our communi