Among the many examples my dad set for my life – he loved our country (served in the 10th Mountain Division in WWII); he loved my mom (58 years married); he loved our community (instrumental in obtaining the playground equipment) – and the roles my dad played in my life – baseball coach, Soap Box Derby enthusiast, and, for a time, my employer – one was Cub Scout Master. My mom was my Den Mother.
One night at one of our scout’s gatherings, dressed in my uniform where proudly displayed was my newly acquired Bear Badge, I was jumping from tabletop to tabletop in our little elementary school.
Seriously.
The tables folded out from the wall and thus weren’t the kind that were going to collapse even in an earthquake, much less under my weight.
I know. Whatever could I have been thinking? I wasn’t.
Then I saw his face. And later at home there were, well, let’s just say, consequences.
On this Father’s Day, there’s a lot on Facebook extolling the virtues of a father as to the difference he makes and the impact he has on his children.
In his book “Fatherless America,” subtitled “Confronting Our Most Urgent Social Problem,” author David Blankenhorn explores absenteeism – not of kids from school but of fathers from their child’s life: “more than half of the nation’s children are without a father in the home.”
My father wasn’t absent. He was present. Almost – at times to my chagrin – omnipresent.
And on this Father’s Day, bereft of my dad now 15 years, I think I am thankful most for the boundaries he set, the borders for acceptable behavior he circumscribed, and thus the consequent boldness and confidence – having marked out the differences between right and wrong – to speak up.
INC magazine once opined the greatest need of a CEO from those under his charge, let alone from his or her second in command, was honesty, not loyalty.
To challenge the status quo; to think outside the box; to color beyond the lines; to rock the boat; to question authority; to bring power to account; to play – nay, play for keeps when it’s not a game – devil’s advocate, how much better these than to go-along-to-get-along; to second that motion without following discussion; to get, and stay, in line like dominoes hoping no one – to mix metaphors – upsets the apple cart or suggests the emperor has no clothes.
Because no one spoke up, five of the nation’s top snowboarders perished.
Because warnings went unheeded, three passengers on Amtrak 501 would die.
Because a safety buzzer in the cockpit was delayed for repairs, the plane would crash.
And though far less of consequence is the game the Mariners lost to the Padres when Cameron Maybin walked to first base on ball three, the principle is the same:
When we fail to voice – even repeatedly, and ever more loudly – what is a perceived or real danger, for some misplaced fear of being judged a whistleblower, or labeled a curmudgeon, lest we become a target ourselves of criticism for having oft-pointed fingers, then we are hardly any better than a dry stream in the desert; a missing, or too-small-to-be-noticed, signpost warning of a curve in the track ahead.
As someone wrote, ‘How can we warn if we won’t confront, correct if we won’t challenge, and contend if we won’t question? Are we content to coddle and comfort rather than stir and convict?’
From jumping on tables, to gingerly sitting at the table, I am thankful for my father.
A follow-up.
This morning, at our place of business, a marina, a gal was caught exiting a canvas covered boat that, when confronted, she said was hers.
It was not.
Meanwhile, the occupants in a van in the parking lot had trashed their surroundings and were asked to leave. And to take their garbage with them.
They denied it was theirs.
Two additional individuals were departing on foot having abandoned a mattress they had taken from a nearby unoccupied and boarded up house where they had ripped off the plywood allowing them entrance.
Though they were seen exiting the house they said it wasn’t them.
I had two of my grandkids in the truck who had watched some of these confrontations between grandpa and the quite-obviously-homeless, so I seized upon the teaching moment.
“You two are so fortunate to have the parents you do. Parents who care enough to set boundaries, lay down the law, say ‘this far and no farther.’”
A teaching moment and a reason for them to hear why they should appreciate their mom and dad that care enough to say no.
One of those boys got a Citizenship Award in his grade, the only one so recognized in his class.
The other got straight A’s in his first year in middle school.
Their younger sister got perfect attendance in Kindergarten.
It’s all about parenting.
David,
You are right. It’s all about parenting. It’s a full time job. Sometimes we get it right and sometimes we’re just a fool. I find it interesting that every once in a while it appears that I did the right thing and it makes me proud . . . not of me . . . but my sons.
Don
Very good points, and I will try to speak up when I should.
A great article….
I grew up without knowing a father. My Grandpa was the closest I had to this phenomena of “father.” Let me tell you how that affected me. It was different than you might expect!
Not having a man around on a regular basis caused me to fear my friends’ fathers. Those low pitched voices, towering demeanors, bearing witness to mothers telling their misbehaving children: wait till your father gets home; all of these things were foreign to me and thereby caused me to want none of that in my life for a very long time.
Too bad, I didn’t get the opportunity to see the kind-hearted, loving, fun provider and back then, the bread winner, side of the men who were the true definition of father.
All of this caused confusion for a young child who didn’t understand what she had done to cause her father to not want to be part of her life while being terrified he might just appear one day.
So, on this and every Father’s Day, I encourage all of you who have a caring, loving, father in your life who sets boundaries, shows you how to be successful in life through all of your challenges, to appreciate that man with all the pride and love you can muster.
A side note to all of the mothers who were forced to be both parents…kudos. I had one of those moms, thank you, God!
So true! Well said!
Mr. Anderson, Great article and comments. You are on target. I have much I could say about my relationship with my dad, but I think you have said it all.
Joseph Boyle
P.S. Not only was I a son to my dad, I am a father to my daughter. I was and still am in her life even though she is pushing 50. I am proud of her for many reasons, especially because she has never done any hard prison time.