Friday, January 26, 2018

Are You Over the Underdog?

Who doesn’t love to root for the underdog? If you’re a Philadelphia sports fan-- we’re in the thick of it with Eagles loyalists donning German Shepherd masks. For me, though, sometimes I wonder if I have the stamina and emotional energy.

I live in a competitive community where people are educated and successful, and then, by trickle down—so are their kids. And while I, too, can confidently say my children have it good, by no means are they geniuses or on the way to the 2026 Paris Olympics. One of my kids feels like he’s stamped with “always being second best”—never quite getting over the hump to being amazing.

While I preach the importance of humility, work effort, and luck…I also think that someone will always be better, not everything happens for a reason, life can be random, and by doggone it, I’m simply tired of the pep talks and rosy outlooks. Because I admit it, sometimes I DO want that number one status—even for a fleeting moment—for that swell of unbridled joy that comes with such occurrences.

One area in my personal life where I feel this is with my fourth grade son who has dyslexia. For any parent who bears the constant strain of building self-esteem in a child who thinks he’s dumb, who struggles with their child because he can’t memorize like his siblings, and who grows short-tempered and later guilty after fighting with your kid—all I can say is that this skin, which can sometimes be thick, weakens and holds fluctuating emotions…daily. It is not easy. I do look at my sweet, earnest, generous boy as an underdog. And at times I want to bark at the educators and kids who have made him feel this way.

Over the past year my perspective of education has shifted. And I understand the limitations of public schooling—specifically for students with dyslexia. My own home district won’t even utter that word—it’s a “reading disability” to them. I came to terms with a system failing my child, which, to this day, still shocks and disappoints me. I just wish that the general perception of dyslexia—and therefore, of my son—is that dyslexia is “anything other than a disadvantage” versus what it is--a different way of learning and thinking.*

Believe me, I worry about my son as he gets older and has to conform to the confines of our less creative and rigid educational system. Will he have the energy to succeed that Steve Jobs did? Albert Einstein? Thomas Alva Edison? Only in fourth grade, time will tell for my son. And as any mother would attest, even when I feel worn out, I’ll undoubtedly keep cheering for my kid.

Why do we root for the underdog? Because at times it feels like the world, (including Cowboys fans), is against them. Because we respect their strength. We appreciate their ability to get attacked and keep up the fight. We connect emotionally with their hope. And sometimes, whether it be a sports franchise or a son, it’s because of pure love.




*Kate Griggs, as quoted in the TEDxBrighton talk “The Creative Brilliance of Dyslexia”

Friday, January 12, 2018

No More Mr. "Right" Guy

I challenge any peer to hear Tracy Chapman’s song title “Fast Car” and not immediately hear those iconic, melodic guitar notes. I remember playing that well-worn cassette over and over in my pastel, pill-shaped boom box while sitting on my bedroom’s carpet. As I look back I wonder if what drew me to the song, and therefore connected me to it, was the song’s sense of hope and strength of character. I always loved the lyric, “Me myself I got nothing to prove.” 


Over the past few weeks I’ve been doing some soul searching and learning. I’ve read three books about toxic relationships. Among the compelling ah-hah moments one notion particularly struck a chord. That certain personalities get in a tug of war to prove that they are right, seeking validation. As someone with a strong sense of conviction regarding honesty and fairness combined with a pleaser, hope-filled personality I realized I was vulnerable, being trapped into thinking people would change if they better understood, if they knew the facts, if they accepted me for who I am.

Can people’s core personalities change as we get older?

As much as I think I’m right about certain things and would like to prove some people wrong, hoping to change their perspective, now I feel that can’t be done. Simply because the other person thinks they are correct. Their opinion, their version, their history, is how they perceive it—so of course, they think they are right. No one can change them. I surely cannot.

I even witnessed this while in my cushy movie theater recliner as my family and I watched The Last Jedi. Spoiler alert—Kylo Ren is who he is. Even people strong with the Force cannot turn him from the dark side. And they have lightsabers. Rey needs to accept that she cannot change him.

A friend suggested I listen to Oprah’s Super Soul Conversation podcasts. During my commute to Philly I listened to one with religious leader Rob Bell. Oprah asks him, “What life lesson has taken the longest to learn?” And my ears perked up. He replies, “There’s nothing to prove.” And like Frankie Avalon in Grease’s heavenly beauty salon Tracy Chapman hovered over my shoulder, and I hear, “Me myself I got nothing to prove.”

Is our self-worth wrapped in feeling vindicated?

What would life be like if people stopped trying to prove themselves to be right? That by knowing one’s own reality, that feeling comfortable with their own perspective, was enough? Why spend the emotional energy to pointlessly prove you’re right? And by accepting that others may have different perspectives, one can move on without the angst and disappointment of unsuccessfully changing them. Rey couldn’t change Kylo Ren. Tracy Chapman did not change her boyfriend in the song.

So what to do the next time you feel the urge to prove you’re right? You know what to do and can most likely sing along….

“Take your fast car and keep on driving…”