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Recent Comments
- Beth on The One That Ends With Hope
- Judi Feldman on The Brass Tacks of Music Education
- Fran Keer on A Road Well Traveled
- norman edelson on A Road Well Traveled
- Justin Rogan on The Gift of Boredom
- © 2024 - Gregory Keer. All rights reserved.
Teens Show Bulletproof Leadership
I work really hard at my public face. As a parenting writer and high-school educator, I try to project steadiness, calm, wisdom, and a little gentle humor. I call it my Atticus Finch persona, and it has been cultivated and is authentic. Most of the time.
Some of the time, I lose my composure, usually with my own kids. They dissolve into their phones instead of looking solidly at me when I make conversation, and that makes me upset. They repeatedly leave their clothes and dishes around for someone else to take care of, and that makes me mad. They tell me to shut up, that I don’t know anything about the way the world works today, and that makes me furious.
In my worst responses, I’ve shaken the rooftop with my anger at not being able to control my kids’ negative behavior. I’ve apologized to them, explaining that my reaction is my own fault and admitting my mistake in letting the Hulk out when I should have called upon a bit more Atticus Finch. I tell them that I allowed my message of disappointment in their actions to be overtaken by my lack of self-regulation. And I work daily at improving my responses, at increasing my level-headedness if only to show them one of my chief lessons in life: No one is perfect, but we must communicate with each other, above all else, if we are to resolve what makes us feel diminished, put down, or left out.
This central belief — in communication — is the main reason I write. It’s the main reason I am writing this piece today. I am writing to answer my children’s questions about why I, and my generation, have not made the world as safe as it could be. I am writing because I want my boys to know that I value their own efforts to figure out the problems of our time. I am writing because I need them to know that they, and their contemporaries who are speaking and acting with clarity and conviction, are showing me that they are ready to lead us to important changes for good.
Pivoting From Anger to Glimmers of Hope
Sure, it matters that I am upset for the victims of the recent shootings at Santa Fe High School in Texas and Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Florida. I am mad at the narrow-mindedness of those who cannot see the benefits of committing to more effective gun control regulation and taking automatic rifles off the market. I am furious at those in our society who do not truly value our children’s lives and their voices when our kids speak intelligently and humanely.
But it is incumbent upon me, as a writer/parent/educator/sentient being with the blessing of the ability to reason, to at least attempt to make some sense out of the chaos of a world where children die in the very places that are meant to help them grow their minds and bodies enough to become the eventual caretakers of this society.
If there is one thing I have realized by being a father, it’s that I learn more from my kids than they do from me. Sure, I have given them guidelines and tips to function as good, productive people. But they, in their clarity about fairness, capacity to forgive, and their passion for living for happiness and love, wipe away the fog that often clouds my vision through the sometimes numbing elements of work, money, responsibility.
My boys are full of imperfections, which are well documented in my writings, but they know that emotions are complex, random, hard to deal with. They shout, cry, laugh, and get sad, yet they are willing to talk about it. Sometimes with my wife and me, sometimes with friends, sometimes with their pediatrician. Yes, my wife and I taught them that this is important, that we are safe to talk to, even when we have opinions on when they’ve been right or wrong. Still, they have to walk this path of not holding inside what troubles them and of trusting that those meant to support them (their parents, teachers, health professionals) will see them as individuals who need safety nets, boundaries, and guidance.
These are boys who are able to access their feelings as well as recognize and reach out to others who exhibit feelings of sadness or distress. Feelings are more powerful than fists or bullets or any other vestiges of what some may see as strength or machismo. Feelings can lead people to bully others, to shut others out to protect oneself, and to a place on the wide spectrum of depression that this country of ours is still largely clueless about. Feelings lead to actions and the sooner our children can learn to sort through them, the better off we will all be.
Making Their Path to Change Possible
Let me be super clear about something else I’ve learned from teaching and raising teenagers in particular — they want adults to set limits, even when their feelings progress to them railing and screaming and taking off in the car in response to these lines. They need us to know we’re keeping them in bounds because their brains and emotions are a long way off from being completely developed. They need us to buck up, not shy away from their temporary shields and emotional missiles, and use compassionate firmness to keep them safe and kind in this world.
So, what else can we do, my friends in parenthood? What can we do for our children in the face of a breakdown of all we should have done to prevent tragedies such as the mass shootings in Texas and Florida? We need to double down, dig way the hell in on our efforts to make kids our number one priority. We brought them into this world, and they have repaid us with a sense of fulfillment that outpaces whatever headaches they’ve caused us. Now, we have to listen to them and their cries for safety, fairness, and reason. We have to let them take our hand down a path we started for them and allow them to show us what they need.
We have to support them with making gun laws more effective and putting more trained security professionals on campus whose sole job is to protect our youth. We have to boost them with more teachers who teach, more guidance counselors who counsel, more adult professionals who have eyes and ears on them. America is painfully behind much of the first-world in the area of financial commitment to education. We — need — to — be — number — one.
And, again, we need to let our children lead us.
Twice in the last year, my sons got my wife and I out of the house to march with thousands to speak out about human rights and dignity. They made signs, spoke to adults, and walked miles and miles. No complaining from them. Why? Because they were leading.
At my high school in the days following the Parkland, Florida tragedy, student leaders in every grade organized memorials, assemblies, and letter writing to the victims and politicians who can help prevent the creation of more victims.
With my children and my students, I have been proud to the point of bursting to provide support and guidance. But I have done little compared to them. They have led me and other adults. They have communicated their needs. And they have not lost an ounce of commitment.
For myself, I know all too well how little anger does if I don’t channel it into action and understanding. My children have taught me more about that than I ever expected. I am forever grateful to them for that. I will show that gratitude by supporting their calls for a safer, better world.
© 2018 Gregory Keer. All rights reserved.
The Brass Tacks of Music Education
When my eldest son came home one day during his first week of third grade, he lugged in a sinister-looking black case. My immediate reaction was that he had joined the elementary school mafia and was about to make us an offer we could not refuse after making him transfer to this new school. The reality was a bit more surprising. Our quiet, seemingly risk-averse son had brought home a trumpet.
“How did this happen?” I asked Benjamin.
“They asked if anyone wanted to join the orchestra, and I said yes,” he said with a shrug.
It was that simple. He had never discussed interest in playing the horn before and, because he previously took piano lessons without much commitment, we assumed music was not his thing.
That was OK. I was thrilled enough for the both of us. Having spent much of my adult life regretting that I had given up piano as a teen and then devoting 30 years to idolizing musicians and writing album reviews, this moment was celebratory. My sons would play music.
Over the next three years, Benjamin practiced with a ragtag orchestra of kids, most of whom had never played an instrument before. However, their teacher, Mr. Geiger, steadily and expertly trained them so they got pretty darn good. Maybe some parents dread the warbly, sometimes out-of-tune seasonal concerts, but my face hurt from all the smiling I did while listening to Benjamin play in the brass section.
Our middle son was a little more intentional when it came time for him to choose whether or not to join the school orchestra.
“I’m going to be better than Benjamin,” he said, never shy about his competitive spirit.
Yet, when he came home with his own black case, this one contained a clarinet.
“Why not the trumpet?” I asked.
“Dad, I’m my own person and the clarinet is more me,” he reasoned.
Jacob performed with gusto and enjoyed being one of only two to play the instrument in the group. He didn’t practice much, but he made the most of the rehearsals and his flair for pouring his outgoing personality into the reed instrument.
Then Ari’s turn arrived. Like his brothers before him, our third child selected his own instrument, the trombone. Seriously, that thing was taller than my tyke, yet my boy was determined to master it. Of all my sons, Ari showed the most joy in playing, even though it proved a challenge to get skilled enough to blow the notes the way he wanted to. Often, he’d get frustrated.
“I’m really not any good,” he would sometimes say.
“I don’t care,” I would reply. “Just keep playing.”
I could have told him that the sounds he was creating were akin to those generated by a flatulent walrus. However, his drive to improve focused my encouragement of him. If he wanted to get good, I would not dampen his spirit. Even if it meant going to another room to rehabilitate my ears.
And keep playing he did, month after month. He got to the point of more proudly pulling the instrument out to show off his version of “When the Saints Come Marching In” and “Winter Wonderland.” And no kid waved more excitedly when we would see him in the back row of the orchestra on performance days.
While Benjamin petered out on music by sixth grade and Jacob took up the guitar on and off for the years past elementary school, Ari kept going. In the first year of middle school, he joined the beginning orchestra with which his skills really began to take flight. Much of this had to do with an attentive teacher who always found extra time for his large array of students. It is also attributed to Ari’s outside-of-school lessons with a patient and creative piano teacher and a marvelous trombone teacher. This brass instructor nurtured not only Ari’s playing, but helped him to transcribe music by ear and explore the classics of my own true musical love, jazz.
Recently, Ari emerged from a trombone lesson saying he wanted me to select one of my favorite jazz tunes each week or so for him to learn. To say that I got a little dizzy from the extra oxygen that request filled me with is not an exaggeration.
As this new school year rolls forward, I remain committed to the extra dollars and driving time it takes to give Ari as much music education as he wants. My wife and I may have led our children to the water of music, but it has been their own curiosity and willingness to take risks with their creativity that has given them a means of extra expression and an enduring love of music’s affective powers.
If I have advice for parents on this subject it is that, whatever your own musical interest is, make the effort to expose your children to playing music early and then support their pursuits to the utmost of your resources. You never know what will happen. Likely, it will be something beautiful.
© 2017 Gregory Keer. All rights reserved.
Schooling Boys About Girls
By Gregory Keer
Throughout my schooling, it wasn’t English or History that stumped me. It was girls. There was my second-grade test in flirting that ended with a classmate bashing me over the head with her very fashionable purse. This was followed by years of cluelessness that led to a high-school dating career marred by an uncanny ability to misread social cues, resulting in one common response: “I just like you as a friend.”
As evidenced by my improbably long-running success with the woman who agreed to marry me, I guess I figured a few things out. But the road to my wife was full of misunderstanding and miscommunication that could have been helped by better education than that provided by my Beavis- and Butthead-like friends, the macho stereotypes on TV, or the ultra-suave characters on the big screen. I was indeed blessed with parents who taught me the value of respect toward the opposite sex, but they gave me precious few insights into the intricacies of socializing with the ladies. And even in the heightened hormone hell of high school, teachers and administrators had precious little to say about gender issues save for the basic anatomical information in Health class.
Being a parent in today’s world presents some very stark reasons why raising a boy requires a lot more focus and intentionality than the methods of previous generations. The subject of male interaction with females is one of particular concern as evidenced by ugly and aggressive actions by young men towards women on college campuses, among other places, but the fact that it happens in college means that something is missing in the education – both formal and informal — of our boys. Somewhere along the line, a percentage of our young males has opted for instinctive displays of physical dominance instead of rationalized communication in order to get what they want from women. And there is support for this physical behavior by a number of parents and other people who should know better.
While disturbing behavior by boys in college requires a worthy and in-depth discussion, one path of contemplation is about what we parents might do to instill the deepest thinking and reinforce the healthiest behavior in our guys early on. As a father of three dudes who are quite distinct from one another, I have learned as much from them as I have taught them about sex, growing into manhood, and how to treat girls in social and more intimate situations. I’ve discussed these topics with them in a variety of situations, with varying degrees of success.
Recently, my wife and I talked to our youngest son, age 11, who was part of an elementary-school guy clique that saw girls as alien creatures who had no business on the fellas’ planet. On occasion, we’d ask Ari if he ever chatted with girls, and he’d say that one was bossy or another was nice. Our goal was to make sure that he was being polite, even if females were not part of his inner circle.
Beyond his boy band, Ari has benefited from a different perspective, as he is close with a girl he’s grown up with. They were at overnight camp together this past summer and the counselors told us that other kids had been making fun of them for being boyfriend and girlfriend. So, we asked our boy about it.
“I don’t remember anyone making fun of us,” he said, with a hint of a white lie.
“How would it make you feel if someone did give you a hard time about it?” my wife asked.
“I wouldn’t care. She’s my best friend.”
For Ari, his view of girls changes with the situation, but he has made it clear that friendship is friendship, no matter the gender. Friendship, and the equality that comes with it, is the root of what we encourage Ari to continue, especially with the coming storm of adolescence. While there is nothing wrong with the instincts that many boys have about girls being different from them in various ways, problems emerge when boys see girls as something less than them — when they view girls as inferior athletes, lesser students, or more fragile than guys are. Our boys need us, as parents, to educate them about all the goals girls can kick, the math problems they can solve, and the emotional ups and downs they can endure. More than that, our boys require us to help them see that their own weaknesses can be strengthened by healthy interactions with girls rather than activities in which boys try to dominate their counterparts.
Some may think these points of education are obvious or out-of-date, given the progress our society has made in gender equality. But this is where it’s important to bring back the issue of what has been happening on college campuses and beyond. There remains a lingering, sometimes intense current of male disrespect toward females that shows up in even the most seemingly progressive places. We have seen it in the case of the Stanford swimmer who attacked an unconscious girl after a party, and the mindless coddling of that attacker in terms of his light sentence. We have seen it in the professional athletes who have injured (or worse) their spouses, then received little consequence. In one case, a baseball player who had abused his wife received an ovation after returning to the field. Absolutely, we should allow that aggressors can make amends, but what does it say to our children, particularly to our boys, when we applaud athletes while not talking with our kids about the mistakes these men made as human beings?
As parents, we must discuss the tough stuff, sparing details for our youngest children, but at least broaching the big issues of fair treatment of girls and women. We should also ask our children to help girls who are being poorly treated, as the young man did who interrupted the sexual assault by the dumpster, resulting in the swimmer’s arrest. We must tell our boys to be watchful and active if male friends act improperly, and to never be afraid to break the bro code if they know something to be wrong.
Perhaps most important is the role modeling we adults do. In our relationships with women, be they in partnerships, friendships or casual acquaintances, we have to show our boys we respect women physically, verbally, psychologically and professionally. We have to illustrate how we talk things out and resolve conflicts with adult women and encourage our daughters and friends’ daughters in pursuits that are equal those of boys.
We should also actively involve ourselves in what our schools address with our children regarding all kinds of boy-girl topics. We need to ask about the programs schools are delivering, offer any concerns we might have about the programs, and discuss the topics with our children before and after they learn about them.
Among the other resources we can use are older children, be they our own kids or those of close friends. Ari is fortunate to have two older brothers, one who is starting high school and one who is beginning college. Both boys have been on the receiving end of parental talks about what they could do better and what they did right in their interactions with girls. They have also experienced a range of peers, from the most exemplary to some who have behaved questionably around the opposite sex. As a result, they have shown their little brother how to be friends with girls and how to act around girlfriends. They are the role models Ari has most closely watched, which emphasizes why we had to address issues early in our parenting career.
I am still teaching my boys about the keys to respecting the opposite sex. Frankly, I will keep talking to them about it because there are powerful forces out there that push guys to react to their basest instincts. Good guys can make mistakes, but with emotional honesty, lots of talking and ample role modeling, we can help our sons be the honorable counterparts to all the great daughters out there. That’s education with more value than any diploma can provide.
© 2016 Gregory Keer. All rights reserved.
Letter of Recommendation
By Gregory Keer
I am writing to spill my guts about your high school graduation and the beginning of your new journey at college. You know much of what I’m about to say, but try to hold your usual criticism of my logic – one of the many things I thought I would not miss, but will.
To say I’m not ready for you to go would be untrue. I’m ready mostly because you are ready. It’s been 18 years of taking you to school, coaching you for sports, figuring out what you’ll eat for dinner, counseling you when friends let you down, and losing my cool when you make errors in judgment. I’ve been there to clean up your throw-up and taken you to medical appointments for everything from broken bones to acne. I’ve watched you sing at the top of your lungs, become too embarrassed to say hello to a relative, then make a speech to an entire student body.
I know you are prepared to handle many of life’s challenges. You can handle an interview without us in the room, maintain a checking account (you even bought me dinner with your first debit-card transaction), and explain molecular biology with enthusiasm.
You worked your tail off to build a rounded high school portfolio with challenging courses, community service, leadership, and athletic accomplishment (which you did begrudgingly, but one day will appreciate). In a college-application process that is absurdly grueling and unpredictable, you wrote soul-searching essays by the dozen, not without struggle, but with the honesty and clarity of a young man who knows who he is, and worries little about who others expect him to be.
Why wouldn’t I be proud to see you capable of flying on your own? It has been our job to get you out there, and that is what we’ve done – though with a lot of trial and error.
Part of me hates to see you leave because I like you. I like your laugh, which has been low and easy since you were a baby. I like your random hugs. I like your condescending tone when you say, “I will, Dad,” when I ask you to take out the trash or call a grandparent or eat lunch. I like your mop of hair, of which I am very jealous because, as you enjoy reminding me by tapping my bald spot, I am follicly challenged. I like the space you fill in our home, our days, our hearts.
Your departure will create a void, yet I am thrilled to see you go off on one of the adventures I have dreamed of for you. You are our first-born child. All of these emotions and experiences about culmination are new to us, and they sometimes feel like a giant load of laundry we just can’t carry to the washer without losing a few articles along the way. Only it’s not clothing articles we’re shedding, it’s tears.
Yes, you are your own man, Benjamin. You’ve weathered my suggestions, critiques, and harangues with the patience of a saint, and filtered the words to select what works for you. Sometimes I’ve bridled at your independence, but in my most rational state of mind, I’m so proud of your development that I get a little tingly. Sorry if that sounds weird, but indulge your old man a bit longer.
You have been an excellent role model for your younger brothers. You are respectful of us, careful with money, and an engaged student. Your siblings follow suit and have learned more from the way you do things than from anything we have taught them. Yes, you have sometimes been impatient and annoyed with them, but what sticks out in their minds are the times you drove them to activities, picked up their favorite box of cereal, and read with them and kissed them good-night.
As your grade-level dean at school for the past two years, I’ve been able to see your growth few from a vantage point few parents get to enjoy. I’ve run many class meetings for you and your class. I’ve embarrassed you plenty, though always out of love, which you’ve endured graciously. In one of the meetings, at a recent school event, we held a traditional “yarn ceremony” for the seniors. Sitting in a circle, each student said a few words about what they were grateful for before passing a large spool of green yarn to someone special to them. One of your friends called you out and explained how you were there for him during a particularly difficult period. As meaningful as it was for you, it was even more so for me. I saw the impact of your generous spirit, something you’ve shown for others since you were in daycare.
Your ability to connect has allowed you to maintain friendships since preschool and make new friends almost at will. By your own admission, you are no social butterfly, but you are easy to talk to and listen better than anyone I know. I’ve been privileged to see this in many situations, not the least of which is your relationship with Lili. Your attentiveness, fairness, and loveliness with each other go far beyond your years.
Society marks success for teenagers for all kinds of achievements, but seldom commends them for compassion and caring that likely matters most in the long term.
These qualities shone through at the talent show for your school retreat. To humor your sentimental dad, you agreed to come on stage at the end of my annual Tigger song performance. On cue, you walked up, dressed as Eeyore, to the applause of scores of people who know you to be shy but always a good sport. I told the audience you had been the inspiration for my singing a few bars of the little ditty that became my theme song years ago, and that the inspiration would continue even with you moving on from high school.
I hugged you tightly and you hugged back, burying your face in my neck. As tall and accomplished as you are, the gesture reassured me that you will always be my cuddly son. It’s a moment I will get to replay forever.
Love,
Dad
© 2016 Gregory Keer. All rights reserved.
Posted in Adolescence, Blog, Child Development, Columns by Family Man, Education, Graduation, School, Teens, Values
3 Comments
Teens Provide Hope on Thanksgiving
As Thanksgiving comes upon us, I am deeply grateful for my wife, sons, extended family, and friends who love me, even when I’m not at my best. I am also thankful for the high school students I get to work with as their teacher and grade-level dean. This month, I’ve watched students (including my eldest) rapidly respond to the victims of Typhoon Haiyan with not one but two fundraisers to help needy families in the Philippines. Then, with little fanfare, one group of students organized a book drive that brought in more than 500 books for those who have little to read, another of the student clubs I supervise delivered 300 pounds worth of frozen turkeys to an underserved local community, and yet another made an informative and moving video to teach teens about World AIDS Day. Sure, these students still obsess over their iPhones and complain about homework, but they also give of themselves generously. Lots of reason to be thankful about a future with these kids in it.
Stages
By Gregory Keer
Last January, my eleven year old tracked me down in my fortress of solitude, the bathroom, and launched into “Suddenly Seymour,” his audition tune for the public arts academy he desperately wanted to attend.
Despite all the love and support I harbor for my child, my reaction was swift as I cried, “Let me poop in peace!”
This sent Jacob into a fit of laughter before he collected himself and continued his song in complete ignorance of my compromised state.
By the time he hit his final note, I had long forgotten where I was or what I had intended to do there. I just applauded.
“That was the best I’ve ever heard you sing,” I told Jacob.
My son gave me hug, at which time reality hit me that I was sitting over a toilet bowl.
“Thanks, Dad, now I can let you poop in peace,” he laughed as he took off.
Whether he’s standing on bathroom tile or auditorium floorboards, my son loves the stage. It started early, when we took a three-year-old Jacob to see his older brother in a theater-camp production of The Sound of Music. We had to hold back the nascent thespian from leaping to join “Do-Re-Mi.” Even as Benjamin grew more self-conscious about performing, Jacob’s theatrical bug never stopped buzzing.
Sometimes, that buzzing got on our nerves. We were frequently torn between encouraging his creative, outgoing nature and protecting our senses from his often disastrous training. There were countless nights when he belted a medley of the Top 40 all day long, from every room in the house – and mostly off key. He didn’t know he was out of tune, nor did he care. He also had the habit of trying to force his vibrato to sound like Justin Timberlake – only he wasn’t Justin Timberlake.
There were the mornings we awakened thinking clowns were ransacking our home when it was just Jacob leaping around his room, rehearsing hip-hop moves he learned in his after-school program. On countless occasions, we sat with frozen smiles while we watched him do modern dance versions of movies like Iron Man 2.
There were all the elementary-school plays, the ones Jacob made us practice with him for weeks, even when he only had one line to say. Worse yet, given Jacob’s perfectionist streak, we endured his criticism of how we delivered our parts: “Daddy, I really think Zeus would sound much bolder than you’re saying it.” You know there’s something wrong when your eight-year-old makes you feel like you’ll never work in show business again and all you wanted to do was help him understand a Greek god’s emotional fragility.
As anxious as Jacob’s relentless practicing of his skills made us, nothing compared to how he felt every time he tried out for a part he didn’t get or was made fun of by peers who found his theatricality not macho enough. Each time this happened, Jacob would come home angry or in tears, and we would boost his ego for being brave enough to take risks. Yet it was mostly his own sense of resolve that motivated him to try all over again.
In this last year of grade school, all of Jacob’s practice seemed to pay off. After three years in the back of the chorus, he moved to the front because he had improved his vocal pitch. After years of musical instrument obscurity, he learned the ukulele and became a soloist at his graduation.
And after endless sessions spent rehearsing dance moves, song stylings, and acting chops, he auditioned for the performing arts academy with so few available spots and so many dreamers vying for them. Weeks later, the email came with the word “Congratulations” on it. Jacob shouted and jumped high, but landed soberly and said, “What’s for dinner?”
Who knows if this opportunity to learn in an arts program will lead to Jacob’s success on Broadway or in Hollywood? What I do know is that, as much as my son has learned to follow a passion, he knows that there’s more to life than a stage. More important than any lead part is that Jacob has learned about working hard, enjoying triumphs, and weathering fear and failure. He’s also learned to balance his theatrical pursuits with friends, family, and soccer, a game he still loves. These lessons will serve him as he makes the transition from the smaller elementary school stakes to the bigger ones in middle school and beyond.
As he takes on this next challenging phase of life, I am so very proud of my boy. So proud that I’ll let him interrupt my bathroom privacy any time he wants to break out into song.
For more on middle-school change, see Middle Earth.
What Dads Need to Know: I Don’t Want to Go to School!
By Betsy Brown Braun
Now that the school year has begun, it won’t be long before one morning you’ll awaken to the declaration, “I don’t want to go to school.” It’s a cry, actually more of a plea, which every parent is likely to face at least once, if not ten times, each school year. It’s never music to your ears.
Not wanting to go to school for the younger child or proclaiming “I’m not going to school” for the older ones, can challenge even the most savvy parent. How easy life would be if there were a one size fits all answer that you could whip out of your back pocket. But the response to this showstopper will be different for every child. It will depend upon your child, upon what’s going on in his life, and upon you and what’s going on in yours.
“I don’t want to go to school” seldom means just that. It is usually the tip of an iceberg. There is either a need that is not being met or a cry for help about something. It is your job as parent to play sleuth and figure it what is really going on.
Here are a few tips for figuring out what’s behind “I don’t want to go to school.”
Ask yourself how long it has been since school began. It takes 6 full weeks for a child of any age to dig in and get comfortable in school. Give it time before assuming the worst. The child may not have adjusted to a new schedule, may not know the ropes and feel overwhelmed, may still be in transition. Give it time.
It is not likely about school. With preschool age children, the issue is often about separation. Learning to attend school without a parent is very different from being left at home with a sitter but without you. Remember, the process of separation can take anywhere from a few days to a few months. It takes time to form a trusting relationship with a teacher and to make new friends. Your child just might prefer to be home with you.
What is going on at home? If grandma is visiting, if Mommy is taking a sick day, if little brother is having a playdate, if the workmen are at his house, the child might want to be at home where the action is.
Is she not well? Your child just might be coming down with something. You know that when you feel sick, your get up and go is gone! But beware of the child who feigns illness to get out of school.
With elementary school age children, all of the above may be at the source, but any of the following may also be the cause:
Does your child feel that she doesn’t fit in? As children mature, so too grows their social awareness and their need to fit in. Does she feel that she has no friends? It’s no fun to go to school if you feel out of it or feel like you have no one with whom to eat lunch.
Friend trouble? It can be difficult to face social issues. Things that you might brush off can deeply affect a child and make staying home a much more appealing option.
Is there teasing or bullying going on? You’ll have to do a lot of fishing, as it can be hard for children to ask for help with teasing or bullying. Elementary school age children often think they should be able to tolerate or solve these problems, but they can’t. Staying home enables the child to avoid them all together.
Is the course material too difficult? Fear of failure is enough to make a child want to stay home. And her pals’ awareness that she is having trouble makes it even worse.
Is your child bored…really bored? There are some students who are just that advanced. Without a challenge or new material, school can be pretty dull. Teacher trouble? The child who has gotten in trouble, has had a consequence imposed, is embarrassed to be outted, just may not want to go to school and face the music.
With middle and high school age children, all of the above may apply, but in addition:
Social issues are the number one cause of a child refusing to go to school. There can be bullying or teasing on the campus or via cyberspace.
Genuine fatigue can be debilitating. Teens need much more sleep than their interests and life styles allow them. You child may be exhausted. Period.
The method for uncovering what is underneath your child’s school refusal will be different for every child. What is the same, however, is every child’s need to be heard, acknowledged, and understood. That is the first step in solving the problem. When the child knows that his feelings and problems are heard, he will be much more open to brainstorming about a solution.
Betsy Brown Braun, is the bestselling author of the award winning Just Tell Me What to Say (HarperCollins 2008), and You’re Not the Boss of Me (HarperCollins, 2010), also a best seller. A child development and behavior specialist, popular parent educator, and mother of adult triplets, and grandmother, she is a frequent speaker at educational and business conferences, has been a guest expert on Today, the Early Show, Good Morning America, Dr. Phil, Entertainment Tonight, Rachel Ray, Fox and Friends, and NPR, and has been cited in USA Today, the New York Times, Family Circle, Parents, Parenting, Woman’s Day, Real Simple, and Good Housekeeping among countless other publications and websites. As the founder of Parenting Pathways, Inc., Betsy offers private consulting and parenting seminars as well. She and her husband live in Pacific Palisades, California.
Inspiring School Success
By Gregory Keer
One of the more prevalent questions by parents is: How can I make my child care about doing well in school? This is an age-old question, and one I deal with every day as a teacher. My only problem with this inquiry is when it comes from overly intense parents of children in their early years of grade school or even preschool. Seriously, no college is going to worry about a kid’s performance in elementary school. However, it’s healthy to lay the foundation for school success, as long as you manage your expectations and remain aware that too much pressure can backfire, either by making a child move further away from wanting to do well or becoming a perfectionist).
Here are a few ideas to start in the right direction.
Instill Your Philosophy on Academic Responsibility. Good grades are, in large part, a reflection of responsibility. You want your child to try his or her best by doing homework on time and completely, setting aside time to study each day, and behaving well in class. Discuss these expectations with your child and praise them for being responsible more than for acing their classes. With your child, work on a homework schedule for each day. Even in elementary school, an assignment book is helpful in setting up good habits and allowing a student to check off what they’ve done so they can see their progress. Remember, the key here is that you’re stressing effort, not grades. Results will come, eventually, but the work habits and sense of accountability are most important at this age.
Go Shopping! A few years back, the office supply company Staples ran a commercial that featured a parent dancing around the aisles of supplies to the tune of “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” The humor might be that the parent is just glad to get the children into school after a long summer of trying to keep the kids entertained. But there is a certain joy in getting new school stuff. The truth is that most of us still love buying supplies, including our kids. Go shopping — with a budget of course — and help your children stock up on everything they need to get their work done. Homework is not so bad if you’ve got cool pens, pencils, folders, and tape dispensers.
Model Your Beliefs. Show your son or daughter that you walk the walk. If you do any work at home, try doing it in the same room with your child, or at least the same time. Perhaps you can talk about something you think is a really hard task that you’ll just have to do your best on. Also, consider telling your child stories about your own school experiences, such as how hard you worked to do well in some area — but also how you didn’t earn high grades in others, despite trying hard.
Play to Your Child’s Interests. In addition to their reflection of responsibility, good grades are a function of motivation — kids do well at what they like. You can instill in your child a deeper love for learning by playing to her interests. Take her on field trips related to what she’s into, and praise her for her passions. In this way, you support your child’s individuality and may indirectly help the passion to spill over into other subjects.
Offer Incentive. Some folks offer money, gifts, and candy in exchange for school success. Frequently, this kind of motivation works – in the short term. But if you’re looking for ways that are a bit longer lasting, you need to reinforce that hard work and achievement are their own reward. Praise your child to your spouse, to his siblings, and to his grandparents when he finishes a tough project. Tell your child how proud you are of his efforts. Daily affirmations of a job well done are important. But don’t overdo it, since you want to allow his sense of inner pride to develop as well.
Know your child. Remember that every child learns differently. Some children have to work twice as hard to earn a C as the child who gets an A every time. Some kids learn slowly, and need to take their time. Others click with math, but not languages. Understand and accept your child’s weakeness as well as strengths, and don’t compare him to his older (or younger) brother or sister, his best friend or the neighbor’s kid. Learning is not a competitive sport. Instead, provide as much support as you can. If certain learning approaches don’t work, seek alternatives. Be patient but firm, and you’ll see progress that is even more satisfying to your child than it is to you.
For more things to think about to set your kids up for success, see Birthday Cutoffs.
Posted in Child Development, Columns by Family Man, Education, School
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Birthday Cutoffs – To Hold Back or Not
Good piece from ModernMom on school and birthday cutoffs. With our youngest boys, who are fall birthdays, we held them back. It has worked for us as they’ve gotten older because our boys have had time to mature, both behaviorally and emotionally, so that they’re at least on par with the other kids in the class. We made our decision in kindergarten, but it can be done later, preferably in elementary school at least a year or more before the next transition to middle school. As a teacher, I’ve also seen benefits for the students I have taught in high school who were held back. It’s a matter of months, particularly for boys, but it makes a difference, especially in adolescence. It may not work for everyone, but it does for us. What are your thoughts? What worked for you?
For more thoughts about school, see articles like The Tortoise Wins the Race.
Posted in Blog, Child Development, Education, School
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Celebrate Music Education Month
Self-expression is more important than ever, which is one reason why giving kids an education in the arts means so much. As parents, my wife and I have regularly donated to our children’s school to keep music (as well as other arts) being taught to all the kids so they can sing, play instruments, and just have fun doing more than just fiddle with an iPod. Music benefits children’s minds in so many ways, including the improvement of their math skills as well as their communication abilities. March is Music in Our Schools Month (spearheaded by the Nation Association for Music Education). For just a sample of what teaching music to children can accomplish, watch this video of kids from the Manassus, Virginia school system – http://vimeo.com/60742475.
Posted in Child Development, Education, Family Music, Music, School
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Teens Show Bulletproof Leadership
I work really hard at my public face. As a parenting writer and high-school educator, I try to project steadiness, calm, wisdom, and a little gentle humor. I call it my Atticus Finch persona, and it has been cultivated and is authentic. Most of the time.
Some of the time, I lose my composure, usually with my own kids. They dissolve into their phones instead of looking solidly at me when I make conversation, and that makes me upset. They repeatedly leave their clothes and dishes around for someone else to take care of, and that makes me mad. They tell me to shut up, that I don’t know anything about the way the world works today, and that makes me furious.
In my worst responses, I’ve shaken the rooftop with my anger at not being able to control my kids’ negative behavior. I’ve apologized to them, explaining that my reaction is my own fault and admitting my mistake in letting the Hulk out when I should have called upon a bit more Atticus Finch. I tell them that I allowed my message of disappointment in their actions to be overtaken by my lack of self-regulation. And I work daily at improving my responses, at increasing my level-headedness if only to show them one of my chief lessons in life: No one is perfect, but we must communicate with each other, above all else, if we are to resolve what makes us feel diminished, put down, or left out.
This central belief — in communication — is the main reason I write. It’s the main reason I am writing this piece today. I am writing to answer my children’s questions about why I, and my generation, have not made the world as safe as it could be. I am writing because I want my boys to know that I value their own efforts to figure out the problems of our time. I am writing because I need them to know that they, and their contemporaries who are speaking and acting with clarity and conviction, are showing me that they are ready to lead us to important changes for good.
Pivoting From Anger to Glimmers of Hope
Sure, it matters that I am upset for the victims of the recent shootings at Santa Fe High School in Texas and Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Florida. I am mad at the narrow-mindedness of those who cannot see the benefits of committing to more effective gun control regulation and taking automatic rifles off the market. I am furious at those in our society who do not truly value our children’s lives and their voices when our kids speak intelligently and humanely.
But it is incumbent upon me, as a writer/parent/educator/sentient being with the blessing of the ability to reason, to at least attempt to make some sense out of the chaos of a world where children die in the very places that are meant to help them grow their minds and bodies enough to become the eventual caretakers of this society.
If there is one thing I have realized by being a father, it’s that I learn more from my kids than they do from me. Sure, I have given them guidelines and tips to function as good, productive people. But they, in their clarity about fairness, capacity to forgive, and their passion for living for happiness and love, wipe away the fog that often clouds my vision through the sometimes numbing elements of work, money, responsibility.
My boys are full of imperfections, which are well documented in my writings, but they know that emotions are complex, random, hard to deal with. They shout, cry, laugh, and get sad, yet they are willing to talk about it. Sometimes with my wife and me, sometimes with friends, sometimes with their pediatrician. Yes, my wife and I taught them that this is important, that we are safe to talk to, even when we have opinions on when they’ve been right or wrong. Still, they have to walk this path of not holding inside what troubles them and of trusting that those meant to support them (their parents, teachers, health professionals) will see them as individuals who need safety nets, boundaries, and guidance.
These are boys who are able to access their feelings as well as recognize and reach out to others who exhibit feelings of sadness or distress. Feelings are more powerful than fists or bullets or any other vestiges of what some may see as strength or machismo. Feelings can lead people to bully others, to shut others out to protect oneself, and to a place on the wide spectrum of depression that this country of ours is still largely clueless about. Feelings lead to actions and the sooner our children can learn to sort through them, the better off we will all be.
Making Their Path to Change Possible
Let me be super clear about something else I’ve learned from teaching and raising teenagers in particular — they want adults to set limits, even when their feelings progress to them railing and screaming and taking off in the car in response to these lines. They need us to know we’re keeping them in bounds because their brains and emotions are a long way off from being completely developed. They need us to buck up, not shy away from their temporary shields and emotional missiles, and use compassionate firmness to keep them safe and kind in this world.
So, what else can we do, my friends in parenthood? What can we do for our children in the face of a breakdown of all we should have done to prevent tragedies such as the mass shootings in Texas and Florida? We need to double down, dig way the hell in on our efforts to make kids our number one priority. We brought them into this world, and they have repaid us with a sense of fulfillment that outpaces whatever headaches they’ve caused us. Now, we have to listen to them and their cries for safety, fairness, and reason. We have to let them take our hand down a path we started for them and allow them to show us what they need.
We have to support them with making gun laws more effective and putting more trained security professionals on campus whose sole job is to protect our youth. We have to boost them with more teachers who teach, more guidance counselors who counsel, more adult professionals who have eyes and ears on them. America is painfully behind much of the first-world in the area of financial commitment to education. We — need — to — be — number — one.
And, again, we need to let our children lead us.
Twice in the last year, my sons got my wife and I out of the house to march with thousands to speak out about human rights and dignity. They made signs, spoke to adults, and walked miles and miles. No complaining from them. Why? Because they were leading.
At my high school in the days following the Parkland, Florida tragedy, student leaders in every grade organized memorials, assemblies, and letter writing to the victims and politicians who can help prevent the creation of more victims.
With my children and my students, I have been proud to the point of bursting to provide support and guidance. But I have done little compared to them. They have led me and other adults. They have communicated their needs. And they have not lost an ounce of commitment.
For myself, I know all too well how little anger does if I don’t channel it into action and understanding. My children have taught me more about that than I ever expected. I am forever grateful to them for that. I will show that gratitude by supporting their calls for a safer, better world.
© 2018 Gregory Keer. All rights reserved.
The Brass Tacks of Music Education
When my eldest son came home one day during his first week of third grade, he lugged in a sinister-looking black case. My immediate reaction was that he had joined the elementary school mafia and was about to make us an offer we could not refuse after making him transfer to this new school. The reality was a bit more surprising. Our quiet, seemingly risk-averse son had brought home a trumpet.
“How did this happen?” I asked Benjamin.
“They asked if anyone wanted to join the orchestra, and I said yes,” he said with a shrug.
It was that simple. He had never discussed interest in playing the horn before and, because he previously took piano lessons without much commitment, we assumed music was not his thing.
That was OK. I was thrilled enough for the both of us. Having spent much of my adult life regretting that I had given up piano as a teen and then devoting 30 years to idolizing musicians and writing album reviews, this moment was celebratory. My sons would play music.
Over the next three years, Benjamin practiced with a ragtag orchestra of kids, most of whom had never played an instrument before. However, their teacher, Mr. Geiger, steadily and expertly trained them so they got pretty darn good. Maybe some parents dread the warbly, sometimes out-of-tune seasonal concerts, but my face hurt from all the smiling I did while listening to Benjamin play in the brass section.
Our middle son was a little more intentional when it came time for him to choose whether or not to join the school orchestra.
“I’m going to be better than Benjamin,” he said, never shy about his competitive spirit.
Yet, when he came home with his own black case, this one contained a clarinet.
“Why not the trumpet?” I asked.
“Dad, I’m my own person and the clarinet is more me,” he reasoned.
Jacob performed with gusto and enjoyed being one of only two to play the instrument in the group. He didn’t practice much, but he made the most of the rehearsals and his flair for pouring his outgoing personality into the reed instrument.
Then Ari’s turn arrived. Like his brothers before him, our third child selected his own instrument, the trombone. Seriously, that thing was taller than my tyke, yet my boy was determined to master it. Of all my sons, Ari showed the most joy in playing, even though it proved a challenge to get skilled enough to blow the notes the way he wanted to. Often, he’d get frustrated.
“I’m really not any good,” he would sometimes say.
“I don’t care,” I would reply. “Just keep playing.”
I could have told him that the sounds he was creating were akin to those generated by a flatulent walrus. However, his drive to improve focused my encouragement of him. If he wanted to get good, I would not dampen his spirit. Even if it meant going to another room to rehabilitate my ears.
And keep playing he did, month after month. He got to the point of more proudly pulling the instrument out to show off his version of “When the Saints Come Marching In” and “Winter Wonderland.” And no kid waved more excitedly when we would see him in the back row of the orchestra on performance days.
While Benjamin petered out on music by sixth grade and Jacob took up the guitar on and off for the years past elementary school, Ari kept going. In the first year of middle school, he joined the beginning orchestra with which his skills really began to take flight. Much of this had to do with an attentive teacher who always found extra time for his large array of students. It is also attributed to Ari’s outside-of-school lessons with a patient and creative piano teacher and a marvelous trombone teacher. This brass instructor nurtured not only Ari’s playing, but helped him to transcribe music by ear and explore the classics of my own true musical love, jazz.
Recently, Ari emerged from a trombone lesson saying he wanted me to select one of my favorite jazz tunes each week or so for him to learn. To say that I got a little dizzy from the extra oxygen that request filled me with is not an exaggeration.
As this new school year rolls forward, I remain committed to the extra dollars and driving time it takes to give Ari as much music education as he wants. My wife and I may have led our children to the water of music, but it has been their own curiosity and willingness to take risks with their creativity that has given them a means of extra expression and an enduring love of music’s affective powers.
If I have advice for parents on this subject it is that, whatever your own musical interest is, make the effort to expose your children to playing music early and then support their pursuits to the utmost of your resources. You never know what will happen. Likely, it will be something beautiful.
© 2017 Gregory Keer. All rights reserved.
Schooling Boys About Girls
By Gregory Keer
Throughout my schooling, it wasn’t English or History that stumped me. It was girls. There was my second-grade test in flirting that ended with a classmate bashing me over the head with her very fashionable purse. This was followed by years of cluelessness that led to a high-school dating career marred by an uncanny ability to misread social cues, resulting in one common response: “I just like you as a friend.”
As evidenced by my improbably long-running success with the woman who agreed to marry me, I guess I figured a few things out. But the road to my wife was full of misunderstanding and miscommunication that could have been helped by better education than that provided by my Beavis- and Butthead-like friends, the macho stereotypes on TV, or the ultra-suave characters on the big screen. I was indeed blessed with parents who taught me the value of respect toward the opposite sex, but they gave me precious few insights into the intricacies of socializing with the ladies. And even in the heightened hormone hell of high school, teachers and administrators had precious little to say about gender issues save for the basic anatomical information in Health class.
Being a parent in today’s world presents some very stark reasons why raising a boy requires a lot more focus and intentionality than the methods of previous generations. The subject of male interaction with females is one of particular concern as evidenced by ugly and aggressive actions by young men towards women on college campuses, among other places, but the fact that it happens in college means that something is missing in the education – both formal and informal — of our boys. Somewhere along the line, a percentage of our young males has opted for instinctive displays of physical dominance instead of rationalized communication in order to get what they want from women. And there is support for this physical behavior by a number of parents and other people who should know better.
While disturbing behavior by boys in college requires a worthy and in-depth discussion, one path of contemplation is about what we parents might do to instill the deepest thinking and reinforce the healthiest behavior in our guys early on. As a father of three dudes who are quite distinct from one another, I have learned as much from them as I have taught them about sex, growing into manhood, and how to treat girls in social and more intimate situations. I’ve discussed these topics with them in a variety of situations, with varying degrees of success.
Recently, my wife and I talked to our youngest son, age 11, who was part of an elementary-school guy clique that saw girls as alien creatures who had no business on the fellas’ planet. On occasion, we’d ask Ari if he ever chatted with girls, and he’d say that one was bossy or another was nice. Our goal was to make sure that he was being polite, even if females were not part of his inner circle.
Beyond his boy band, Ari has benefited from a different perspective, as he is close with a girl he’s grown up with. They were at overnight camp together this past summer and the counselors told us that other kids had been making fun of them for being boyfriend and girlfriend. So, we asked our boy about it.
“I don’t remember anyone making fun of us,” he said, with a hint of a white lie.
“How would it make you feel if someone did give you a hard time about it?” my wife asked.
“I wouldn’t care. She’s my best friend.”
For Ari, his view of girls changes with the situation, but he has made it clear that friendship is friendship, no matter the gender. Friendship, and the equality that comes with it, is the root of what we encourage Ari to continue, especially with the coming storm of adolescence. While there is nothing wrong with the instincts that many boys have about girls being different from them in various ways, problems emerge when boys see girls as something less than them — when they view girls as inferior athletes, lesser students, or more fragile than guys are. Our boys need us, as parents, to educate them about all the goals girls can kick, the math problems they can solve, and the emotional ups and downs they can endure. More than that, our boys require us to help them see that their own weaknesses can be strengthened by healthy interactions with girls rather than activities in which boys try to dominate their counterparts.
Some may think these points of education are obvious or out-of-date, given the progress our society has made in gender equality. But this is where it’s important to bring back the issue of what has been happening on college campuses and beyond. There remains a lingering, sometimes intense current of male disrespect toward females that shows up in even the most seemingly progressive places. We have seen it in the case of the Stanford swimmer who attacked an unconscious girl after a party, and the mindless coddling of that attacker in terms of his light sentence. We have seen it in the professional athletes who have injured (or worse) their spouses, then received little consequence. In one case, a baseball player who had abused his wife received an ovation after returning to the field. Absolutely, we should allow that aggressors can make amends, but what does it say to our children, particularly to our boys, when we applaud athletes while not talking with our kids about the mistakes these men made as human beings?
As parents, we must discuss the tough stuff, sparing details for our youngest children, but at least broaching the big issues of fair treatment of girls and women. We should also ask our children to help girls who are being poorly treated, as the young man did who interrupted the sexual assault by the dumpster, resulting in the swimmer’s arrest. We must tell our boys to be watchful and active if male friends act improperly, and to never be afraid to break the bro code if they know something to be wrong.
Perhaps most important is the role modeling we adults do. In our relationships with women, be they in partnerships, friendships or casual acquaintances, we have to show our boys we respect women physically, verbally, psychologically and professionally. We have to illustrate how we talk things out and resolve conflicts with adult women and encourage our daughters and friends’ daughters in pursuits that are equal those of boys.
We should also actively involve ourselves in what our schools address with our children regarding all kinds of boy-girl topics. We need to ask about the programs schools are delivering, offer any concerns we might have about the programs, and discuss the topics with our children before and after they learn about them.
Among the other resources we can use are older children, be they our own kids or those of close friends. Ari is fortunate to have two older brothers, one who is starting high school and one who is beginning college. Both boys have been on the receiving end of parental talks about what they could do better and what they did right in their interactions with girls. They have also experienced a range of peers, from the most exemplary to some who have behaved questionably around the opposite sex. As a result, they have shown their little brother how to be friends with girls and how to act around girlfriends. They are the role models Ari has most closely watched, which emphasizes why we had to address issues early in our parenting career.
I am still teaching my boys about the keys to respecting the opposite sex. Frankly, I will keep talking to them about it because there are powerful forces out there that push guys to react to their basest instincts. Good guys can make mistakes, but with emotional honesty, lots of talking and ample role modeling, we can help our sons be the honorable counterparts to all the great daughters out there. That’s education with more value than any diploma can provide.
© 2016 Gregory Keer. All rights reserved.
Letter of Recommendation
By Gregory Keer
I am writing to spill my guts about your high school graduation and the beginning of your new journey at college. You know much of what I’m about to say, but try to hold your usual criticism of my logic – one of the many things I thought I would not miss, but will.
To say I’m not ready for you to go would be untrue. I’m ready mostly because you are ready. It’s been 18 years of taking you to school, coaching you for sports, figuring out what you’ll eat for dinner, counseling you when friends let you down, and losing my cool when you make errors in judgment. I’ve been there to clean up your throw-up and taken you to medical appointments for everything from broken bones to acne. I’ve watched you sing at the top of your lungs, become too embarrassed to say hello to a relative, then make a speech to an entire student body.
I know you are prepared to handle many of life’s challenges. You can handle an interview without us in the room, maintain a checking account (you even bought me dinner with your first debit-card transaction), and explain molecular biology with enthusiasm.
You worked your tail off to build a rounded high school portfolio with challenging courses, community service, leadership, and athletic accomplishment (which you did begrudgingly, but one day will appreciate). In a college-application process that is absurdly grueling and unpredictable, you wrote soul-searching essays by the dozen, not without struggle, but with the honesty and clarity of a young man who knows who he is, and worries little about who others expect him to be.
Why wouldn’t I be proud to see you capable of flying on your own? It has been our job to get you out there, and that is what we’ve done – though with a lot of trial and error.
Part of me hates to see you leave because I like you. I like your laugh, which has been low and easy since you were a baby. I like your random hugs. I like your condescending tone when you say, “I will, Dad,” when I ask you to take out the trash or call a grandparent or eat lunch. I like your mop of hair, of which I am very jealous because, as you enjoy reminding me by tapping my bald spot, I am follicly challenged. I like the space you fill in our home, our days, our hearts.
Your departure will create a void, yet I am thrilled to see you go off on one of the adventures I have dreamed of for you. You are our first-born child. All of these emotions and experiences about culmination are new to us, and they sometimes feel like a giant load of laundry we just can’t carry to the washer without losing a few articles along the way. Only it’s not clothing articles we’re shedding, it’s tears.
Yes, you are your own man, Benjamin. You’ve weathered my suggestions, critiques, and harangues with the patience of a saint, and filtered the words to select what works for you. Sometimes I’ve bridled at your independence, but in my most rational state of mind, I’m so proud of your development that I get a little tingly. Sorry if that sounds weird, but indulge your old man a bit longer.
You have been an excellent role model for your younger brothers. You are respectful of us, careful with money, and an engaged student. Your siblings follow suit and have learned more from the way you do things than from anything we have taught them. Yes, you have sometimes been impatient and annoyed with them, but what sticks out in their minds are the times you drove them to activities, picked up their favorite box of cereal, and read with them and kissed them good-night.
As your grade-level dean at school for the past two years, I’ve been able to see your growth few from a vantage point few parents get to enjoy. I’ve run many class meetings for you and your class. I’ve embarrassed you plenty, though always out of love, which you’ve endured graciously. In one of the meetings, at a recent school event, we held a traditional “yarn ceremony” for the seniors. Sitting in a circle, each student said a few words about what they were grateful for before passing a large spool of green yarn to someone special to them. One of your friends called you out and explained how you were there for him during a particularly difficult period. As meaningful as it was for you, it was even more so for me. I saw the impact of your generous spirit, something you’ve shown for others since you were in daycare.
Your ability to connect has allowed you to maintain friendships since preschool and make new friends almost at will. By your own admission, you are no social butterfly, but you are easy to talk to and listen better than anyone I know. I’ve been privileged to see this in many situations, not the least of which is your relationship with Lili. Your attentiveness, fairness, and loveliness with each other go far beyond your years.
Society marks success for teenagers for all kinds of achievements, but seldom commends them for compassion and caring that likely matters most in the long term.
These qualities shone through at the talent show for your school retreat. To humor your sentimental dad, you agreed to come on stage at the end of my annual Tigger song performance. On cue, you walked up, dressed as Eeyore, to the applause of scores of people who know you to be shy but always a good sport. I told the audience you had been the inspiration for my singing a few bars of the little ditty that became my theme song years ago, and that the inspiration would continue even with you moving on from high school.
I hugged you tightly and you hugged back, burying your face in my neck. As tall and accomplished as you are, the gesture reassured me that you will always be my cuddly son. It’s a moment I will get to replay forever.
Love,
Dad
© 2016 Gregory Keer. All rights reserved.
Posted in Adolescence, Blog, Child Development, Columns by Family Man, Education, Graduation, School, Teens, Values
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Teens Provide Hope on Thanksgiving
As Thanksgiving comes upon us, I am deeply grateful for my wife, sons, extended family, and friends who love me, even when I’m not at my best. I am also thankful for the high school students I get to work with as their teacher and grade-level dean. This month, I’ve watched students (including my eldest) rapidly respond to the victims of Typhoon Haiyan with not one but two fundraisers to help needy families in the Philippines. Then, with little fanfare, one group of students organized a book drive that brought in more than 500 books for those who have little to read, another of the student clubs I supervise delivered 300 pounds worth of frozen turkeys to an underserved local community, and yet another made an informative and moving video to teach teens about World AIDS Day. Sure, these students still obsess over their iPhones and complain about homework, but they also give of themselves generously. Lots of reason to be thankful about a future with these kids in it.
Stages
By Gregory Keer
Last January, my eleven year old tracked me down in my fortress of solitude, the bathroom, and launched into “Suddenly Seymour,” his audition tune for the public arts academy he desperately wanted to attend.
Despite all the love and support I harbor for my child, my reaction was swift as I cried, “Let me poop in peace!”
This sent Jacob into a fit of laughter before he collected himself and continued his song in complete ignorance of my compromised state.
By the time he hit his final note, I had long forgotten where I was or what I had intended to do there. I just applauded.
“That was the best I’ve ever heard you sing,” I told Jacob.
My son gave me hug, at which time reality hit me that I was sitting over a toilet bowl.
“Thanks, Dad, now I can let you poop in peace,” he laughed as he took off.
Whether he’s standing on bathroom tile or auditorium floorboards, my son loves the stage. It started early, when we took a three-year-old Jacob to see his older brother in a theater-camp production of The Sound of Music. We had to hold back the nascent thespian from leaping to join “Do-Re-Mi.” Even as Benjamin grew more self-conscious about performing, Jacob’s theatrical bug never stopped buzzing.
Sometimes, that buzzing got on our nerves. We were frequently torn between encouraging his creative, outgoing nature and protecting our senses from his often disastrous training. There were countless nights when he belted a medley of the Top 40 all day long, from every room in the house – and mostly off key. He didn’t know he was out of tune, nor did he care. He also had the habit of trying to force his vibrato to sound like Justin Timberlake – only he wasn’t Justin Timberlake.
There were the mornings we awakened thinking clowns were ransacking our home when it was just Jacob leaping around his room, rehearsing hip-hop moves he learned in his after-school program. On countless occasions, we sat with frozen smiles while we watched him do modern dance versions of movies like Iron Man 2.
There were all the elementary-school plays, the ones Jacob made us practice with him for weeks, even when he only had one line to say. Worse yet, given Jacob’s perfectionist streak, we endured his criticism of how we delivered our parts: “Daddy, I really think Zeus would sound much bolder than you’re saying it.” You know there’s something wrong when your eight-year-old makes you feel like you’ll never work in show business again and all you wanted to do was help him understand a Greek god’s emotional fragility.
As anxious as Jacob’s relentless practicing of his skills made us, nothing compared to how he felt every time he tried out for a part he didn’t get or was made fun of by peers who found his theatricality not macho enough. Each time this happened, Jacob would come home angry or in tears, and we would boost his ego for being brave enough to take risks. Yet it was mostly his own sense of resolve that motivated him to try all over again.
In this last year of grade school, all of Jacob’s practice seemed to pay off. After three years in the back of the chorus, he moved to the front because he had improved his vocal pitch. After years of musical instrument obscurity, he learned the ukulele and became a soloist at his graduation.
And after endless sessions spent rehearsing dance moves, song stylings, and acting chops, he auditioned for the performing arts academy with so few available spots and so many dreamers vying for them. Weeks later, the email came with the word “Congratulations” on it. Jacob shouted and jumped high, but landed soberly and said, “What’s for dinner?”
Who knows if this opportunity to learn in an arts program will lead to Jacob’s success on Broadway or in Hollywood? What I do know is that, as much as my son has learned to follow a passion, he knows that there’s more to life than a stage. More important than any lead part is that Jacob has learned about working hard, enjoying triumphs, and weathering fear and failure. He’s also learned to balance his theatrical pursuits with friends, family, and soccer, a game he still loves. These lessons will serve him as he makes the transition from the smaller elementary school stakes to the bigger ones in middle school and beyond.
As he takes on this next challenging phase of life, I am so very proud of my boy. So proud that I’ll let him interrupt my bathroom privacy any time he wants to break out into song.
For more on middle-school change, see Middle Earth.
What Dads Need to Know: I Don’t Want to Go to School!
By Betsy Brown Braun
Now that the school year has begun, it won’t be long before one morning you’ll awaken to the declaration, “I don’t want to go to school.” It’s a cry, actually more of a plea, which every parent is likely to face at least once, if not ten times, each school year. It’s never music to your ears.
Not wanting to go to school for the younger child or proclaiming “I’m not going to school” for the older ones, can challenge even the most savvy parent. How easy life would be if there were a one size fits all answer that you could whip out of your back pocket. But the response to this showstopper will be different for every child. It will depend upon your child, upon what’s going on in his life, and upon you and what’s going on in yours.
“I don’t want to go to school” seldom means just that. It is usually the tip of an iceberg. There is either a need that is not being met or a cry for help about something. It is your job as parent to play sleuth and figure it what is really going on.
Here are a few tips for figuring out what’s behind “I don’t want to go to school.”
Ask yourself how long it has been since school began. It takes 6 full weeks for a child of any age to dig in and get comfortable in school. Give it time before assuming the worst. The child may not have adjusted to a new schedule, may not know the ropes and feel overwhelmed, may still be in transition. Give it time.
It is not likely about school. With preschool age children, the issue is often about separation. Learning to attend school without a parent is very different from being left at home with a sitter but without you. Remember, the process of separation can take anywhere from a few days to a few months. It takes time to form a trusting relationship with a teacher and to make new friends. Your child just might prefer to be home with you.
What is going on at home? If grandma is visiting, if Mommy is taking a sick day, if little brother is having a playdate, if the workmen are at his house, the child might want to be at home where the action is.
Is she not well? Your child just might be coming down with something. You know that when you feel sick, your get up and go is gone! But beware of the child who feigns illness to get out of school.
With elementary school age children, all of the above may be at the source, but any of the following may also be the cause:
Does your child feel that she doesn’t fit in? As children mature, so too grows their social awareness and their need to fit in. Does she feel that she has no friends? It’s no fun to go to school if you feel out of it or feel like you have no one with whom to eat lunch.
Friend trouble? It can be difficult to face social issues. Things that you might brush off can deeply affect a child and make staying home a much more appealing option.
Is there teasing or bullying going on? You’ll have to do a lot of fishing, as it can be hard for children to ask for help with teasing or bullying. Elementary school age children often think they should be able to tolerate or solve these problems, but they can’t. Staying home enables the child to avoid them all together.
Is the course material too difficult? Fear of failure is enough to make a child want to stay home. And her pals’ awareness that she is having trouble makes it even worse.
Is your child bored…really bored? There are some students who are just that advanced. Without a challenge or new material, school can be pretty dull. Teacher trouble? The child who has gotten in trouble, has had a consequence imposed, is embarrassed to be outted, just may not want to go to school and face the music.
With middle and high school age children, all of the above may apply, but in addition:
Social issues are the number one cause of a child refusing to go to school. There can be bullying or teasing on the campus or via cyberspace.
Genuine fatigue can be debilitating. Teens need much more sleep than their interests and life styles allow them. You child may be exhausted. Period.
The method for uncovering what is underneath your child’s school refusal will be different for every child. What is the same, however, is every child’s need to be heard, acknowledged, and understood. That is the first step in solving the problem. When the child knows that his feelings and problems are heard, he will be much more open to brainstorming about a solution.
Betsy Brown Braun, is the bestselling author of the award winning Just Tell Me What to Say (HarperCollins 2008), and You’re Not the Boss of Me (HarperCollins, 2010), also a best seller. A child development and behavior specialist, popular parent educator, and mother of adult triplets, and grandmother, she is a frequent speaker at educational and business conferences, has been a guest expert on Today, the Early Show, Good Morning America, Dr. Phil, Entertainment Tonight, Rachel Ray, Fox and Friends, and NPR, and has been cited in USA Today, the New York Times, Family Circle, Parents, Parenting, Woman’s Day, Real Simple, and Good Housekeeping among countless other publications and websites. As the founder of Parenting Pathways, Inc., Betsy offers private consulting and parenting seminars as well. She and her husband live in Pacific Palisades, California.
Inspiring School Success
By Gregory Keer
One of the more prevalent questions by parents is: How can I make my child care about doing well in school? This is an age-old question, and one I deal with every day as a teacher. My only problem with this inquiry is when it comes from overly intense parents of children in their early years of grade school or even preschool. Seriously, no college is going to worry about a kid’s performance in elementary school. However, it’s healthy to lay the foundation for school success, as long as you manage your expectations and remain aware that too much pressure can backfire, either by making a child move further away from wanting to do well or becoming a perfectionist).
Here are a few ideas to start in the right direction.
Instill Your Philosophy on Academic Responsibility. Good grades are, in large part, a reflection of responsibility. You want your child to try his or her best by doing homework on time and completely, setting aside time to study each day, and behaving well in class. Discuss these expectations with your child and praise them for being responsible more than for acing their classes. With your child, work on a homework schedule for each day. Even in elementary school, an assignment book is helpful in setting up good habits and allowing a student to check off what they’ve done so they can see their progress. Remember, the key here is that you’re stressing effort, not grades. Results will come, eventually, but the work habits and sense of accountability are most important at this age.
Go Shopping! A few years back, the office supply company Staples ran a commercial that featured a parent dancing around the aisles of supplies to the tune of “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” The humor might be that the parent is just glad to get the children into school after a long summer of trying to keep the kids entertained. But there is a certain joy in getting new school stuff. The truth is that most of us still love buying supplies, including our kids. Go shopping — with a budget of course — and help your children stock up on everything they need to get their work done. Homework is not so bad if you’ve got cool pens, pencils, folders, and tape dispensers.
Model Your Beliefs. Show your son or daughter that you walk the walk. If you do any work at home, try doing it in the same room with your child, or at least the same time. Perhaps you can talk about something you think is a really hard task that you’ll just have to do your best on. Also, consider telling your child stories about your own school experiences, such as how hard you worked to do well in some area — but also how you didn’t earn high grades in others, despite trying hard.
Play to Your Child’s Interests. In addition to their reflection of responsibility, good grades are a function of motivation — kids do well at what they like. You can instill in your child a deeper love for learning by playing to her interests. Take her on field trips related to what she’s into, and praise her for her passions. In this way, you support your child’s individuality and may indirectly help the passion to spill over into other subjects.
Offer Incentive. Some folks offer money, gifts, and candy in exchange for school success. Frequently, this kind of motivation works – in the short term. But if you’re looking for ways that are a bit longer lasting, you need to reinforce that hard work and achievement are their own reward. Praise your child to your spouse, to his siblings, and to his grandparents when he finishes a tough project. Tell your child how proud you are of his efforts. Daily affirmations of a job well done are important. But don’t overdo it, since you want to allow his sense of inner pride to develop as well.
Know your child. Remember that every child learns differently. Some children have to work twice as hard to earn a C as the child who gets an A every time. Some kids learn slowly, and need to take their time. Others click with math, but not languages. Understand and accept your child’s weakeness as well as strengths, and don’t compare him to his older (or younger) brother or sister, his best friend or the neighbor’s kid. Learning is not a competitive sport. Instead, provide as much support as you can. If certain learning approaches don’t work, seek alternatives. Be patient but firm, and you’ll see progress that is even more satisfying to your child than it is to you.
For more things to think about to set your kids up for success, see Birthday Cutoffs.
Posted in Child Development, Columns by Family Man, Education, School
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Birthday Cutoffs – To Hold Back or Not
Good piece from ModernMom on school and birthday cutoffs. With our youngest boys, who are fall birthdays, we held them back. It has worked for us as they’ve gotten older because our boys have had time to mature, both behaviorally and emotionally, so that they’re at least on par with the other kids in the class. We made our decision in kindergarten, but it can be done later, preferably in elementary school at least a year or more before the next transition to middle school. As a teacher, I’ve also seen benefits for the students I have taught in high school who were held back. It’s a matter of months, particularly for boys, but it makes a difference, especially in adolescence. It may not work for everyone, but it does for us. What are your thoughts? What worked for you?
For more thoughts about school, see articles like The Tortoise Wins the Race.
Posted in Blog, Child Development, Education, School
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Celebrate Music Education Month
Self-expression is more important than ever, which is one reason why giving kids an education in the arts means so much. As parents, my wife and I have regularly donated to our children’s school to keep music (as well as other arts) being taught to all the kids so they can sing, play instruments, and just have fun doing more than just fiddle with an iPod. Music benefits children’s minds in so many ways, including the improvement of their math skills as well as their communication abilities. March is Music in Our Schools Month (spearheaded by the Nation Association for Music Education). For just a sample of what teaching music to children can accomplish, watch this video of kids from the Manassus, Virginia school system – http://vimeo.com/60742475.
Posted in Child Development, Education, Family Music, Music, School
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