Tag Archive for: Legacy

8 Ways To Teach Your Children About Race

No matter what your experience or lack of experience has been when it comes to race, there is no denying that your personal experience impacts what you believe and how you behave. As adults, it also affects what and how you teach your children about race. Additionally, it informs how you respond to others who may not look or act like your children do.

Lots of people are speaking out about injustice, specifically toward black people. If you haven‘t already, now is a really good time to develop a plan of action for intentionally teaching your children that every black person has value and dignity. In a perfect world, we would know that all are created equal. At this moment in time however, there is a major focus on how black people are treated.

A great place to start is with yourself.

Even if you never actually say what you think, how you think about black people will be the basis for how you teach your children to think about and treat them. They are taking in your conversations and watching your every move—even when you think they aren’t paying any attention. If you are comfortable around black people, they will most likely be comfortable. If you are uncomfortable, they will follow suit.

Ideally, teaching your kids about race starts when they are young, although it is never too late. Here are 8 things you can do to teach your children about race.

  1. Be intentional about creating opportunities for your children to be around and befriend children who are different from them. For example, one mother was looking for a preschool for her son, and she realized that her son would be the only black child there. At her second choice, no white children were present. In her mind, neither of these preschools were viable options because there was no diversity. She wanted her son to see at an early age that not all people are alike and that even though they look different, they can still be friends.
  2. Teach your child about character and respect. Make sure they understand how to behave respectfully toward those who are respectful and how to respond kindly to those who are not. 
  3. Model what it looks like to be treated with respect and hold them accountable for treating others in that manner to reinforce what you are trying to teach.
  4. Make it a point to be friends with families of different ethnicities. At the heart of understanding others is being in relationship with them. Engaging in someone’s world that is different than yours can help your child understand what it is like to walk in another person’s shoes. Having empathy for others is powerful.
  5. Don’t tolerate prejudice. When you see it, say and do something to address it. Teach your children how to productively use their voice when they see injustice.
  6. Be an askable parent. So often, we don’t talk about racial issues because we are afraid or it’s uncomfortable. Silence and assumptions are not helpful in the effort to end racism.
  7. Watch movies like “Remember the Titans” or read books that open the door for discussion about racism.
  8. Instead of trying to convince your child that we are all alike, celebrate how we are different, and how those differences contribute unique things to our world. A young white boy asked his black friend about getting a perm to make his hair curly. The black boy told him he didn’t get a perm, that his hair was that way when he was born. While their moms got a good laugh, it was also a teachable moment.

To end racism, we must have a continuous conversation and a commitment to be part of the solution. In doing so, we have the potential to leave a legacy that future generations can appreciate.

Image from Unsplash.com

VIDEO: Watch as Julie Baumgardner and Reggie Madison talk about the 9 keys to having great conversations with your children about race.

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Present vs. Perfect Makes For Unforgettable Moments

You can make the most memorable moments together.

As a mom of two young girls, I struggle with the idea of being present vs. perfect. But I had this idea. A fun, whimsical baking sesh with my uber-helpful daughter, Jackie, baking a beautiful, homemade, delicious, vegan Frozen-themed cake for her 4th birthday party. I was determined to make it happen. I was going for “super mom” status as I prepared for a small family get together that became an elaborate Frozen-themed birthday extravaganza. I’d already sent out the FB event invite. This was Jackie’s “un-FOUR-gettable” birthday. It was too late. I had to make it unforgettable.

So the pressure was on. The ingredients splayed on the counter, complete with sifter and spatula. We went to work. Now, I have to admit, I’ve tried baking before. With okay results. Nothing too horrible. But when you’re a mom and you’re working with a limited time frame, and multiple kids running around, constantly needing something (water, milk, snack, attention!!) an easy recipe to follow suddenly becomes a daunting, time-consuming luxury you just don’t have. Or is that just me? 

Either way, I welcomed Jackie’s help in combining the cake ingredients.

She helped sift the flour, held the measuring cups and poured the contents in the mixing bowl. It was a slow, imperfect process, full of spills and extra time allowing a 3 (almost 4) year-old to “do it all by my own.” There were so many moments where I had to remind myself that the time we spent together baking this cake was more important than the mess we’d have to clean up or the extra time it took with more cooks in the kitchen. Present vs. perfect.

I even had to re-envision my idea of a “fun, whimsical baking sesh.” The truth is, life is MESSY. And kids require A LOT of patience. To think we could bake a cake together in 30 minutes was downright laughable… it took roughly an hour and a half to finally pop that pan into the oven. By then my patience proved tested over and over. I revised my idea of a mother-daughter bonding time multiple times. I modified my expectations of perfection greatly.

Perfection…

It’s this elusive idea that parents know is actually impossible, yet continually strive for and are sorely disappointed when any factor detracts from their path to it (i.e. a crying child who wanted to use the small spatula, NOT the big spatula). We snap photos of a perfect smile, hoping we can mask the reality of tears, emotion, frustration, and impatience with a clever #unfourgettablebakingsesh! But the truth is, it doesn’t matter if it took more time to bake the cake, and it doesn’t matter that the cake didn’t even… ahem… turn out good (more on that later*).

What matters is that I took the time to include my daughter in helping to make her own birthday cake. It was special mother-daughter time, even if it didn’t go exactly how I wanted it to go in my head. Even though it wasn’t perfect. I was present. She was present.

The time we spent together is what made it unforgettable. 

*I’ve come to accept that I’m clearly NOT a baker. I’ll gladly pay $45 for a delicious bakery cake. I’ve learned that I don’t enjoy it and I’m not good at it. And I don’t have the time, or energy, or desire to improve my baking skills. Although I followed the directions to a T… somehow the cake didn’t bake evenly and the middle ended up being a sunken pile of goo, albeit tasty goo. 

Although I felt embarrassed and slightly ashamed to serve the cake at Jackie’s birthday party, I did it anyway. I warned people that the middle miiiight not have baked fully and that it wouldn’t offend me if they didn’t eat it. And while the adults all took some bites and shook their heads with a sympathetic “Mmmm hmmm” as they reached the goo-filled middle, I’m happy to report that all the kids loved it. 

Image from Pexels.com

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Relationship Resolutions

The YMCAs and Planet Fitnesses in town and all the other gyms are packed full this week with all those who made New Year’s resolutions to lose some pounds, to better their physiques, and to get healthier. Did you make any New Year’s resolutions? Did you set some goals for this year? I hope they weren’t all about diet and exercise! Did you make some Relationship Resolutions?

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How Being a Parent Makes Life Better

Being a parent makes life better. Let me tell you why.

I’m currently writing this while sitting at a coffee shop on a rainy afternoon, and there is a table of three very chatty, obnoxious, silly, giggly 12-year-old girls directly hovering over cinnamon rolls and muffins directly in my line of sight. 

One of them – the slender redhead with clear blue eyes – is my oldest daughter. The other two, her friends, will be coming over later for a sleepover that I’m sure will be much of the same behavior. 

As I peer over toward them from time to time (trying to remain undetected), I can’t help but think quickly through a play-by-play of my daughter’s life, starting with our first introduction to her in the hospital: sleeping in my arms, the tiniest, most vulnerable thing. And I remember thinking, “Does life get any better than this?”

Fast forward not too many weeks: middle of the night, trying my best to change a diaper in less-than-optimal lighting, taking on a less-than-optimal aroma as she fights through her cries and tears because all she really wants to do is go back to sleep. And I remember thinking, “Doesn’t life get better than this?” 

Then there’s the memory of coming alongside her as she served a Thanksgiving dinner to the visitors of our community’s homeless shelter: watching her smile and bright blue eyes brighten the day for some folks who desperately need a bright day. And I thought, “Man, life just doesn’t get any better than this.” 

Of course, growing up is hard and learning lessons can be even harder.

Like the time I caught her in a lie about what she was looking at on her cell phone: That was a tough discussion, and my heart and my brain were at odds with what exactly to do. Tough love won out in the end and she was grounded from her phone for a time as well as from attending the big school rivalry football game the next night. She went to bed distraught and in tears; I went to bed with my own tears, thinking, “Surely life is going to get better than this.” 

And back to today: I look on that blue-eyed redhead as she talks and laughs with her friends (still trying not to be detected), seeing the joy on her face, and I think, “Wow – I don’t think life can get better than this.” 

A friend of a friend of mine was once asked what parenthood was like for him, and I think his response is the best description I’ve ever heard: “It’s just… more.” It’s more ups, more downs. It’s more joys, more tears. More money spent, more stuff on the floor, more to plan for birthdays and holidays and weekends and vacations. It’s more laughter, more struggles, more trying to just figure things out, more seeing great things happen despite us. More pride as a parent, more hard lessons learned, more hope for the future. 

If you are a parent and you’re in one of these (or other) phases of “more,” know that you’re not alone. All us parents are in the “more,” but one thing is for certain – when life as a parent doesn’t seem like it could be much better, days are still to come when life just can’t get any better. 

Take notice of the times when you see your kids showing signs of growth. This is hard for a parent sometimes because a part of us doesn’t want to see our kids grow up. You have to intentionally experience joy when we see the little milestones of maturity – like when they’re enjoying time with friends at a coffee shop over cinnamon rolls. It means they’re one more step closer to being the adults we are working so hard for them to become. 

Life is good in the “more” – even when more is a lot more than we thought it would be. As a matter of fact, it can’t get any better – until maybe tomorrow. 

Looking for more parenting resources? Click here!

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The $1,000 High Chair

As I think back to when my children were first born, there are many memories that come to mind of being bombarded with all the things that babies need. I remember attending a presentation for a $1,000 high chair. It was implied that if I didn’t purchase the high chair, I really didn’t love or wasn’t very concerned about the safety of my child. And I’ll admit, I began to struggle with the paradox of what my child needs versus what I, in my parenting, want my child to have.

If I were keeping it totally honest, I really wanted that high chair. Not for all the safety reasons or the fact that it would grow with my child, but the honest truth was I thought it made me look good to others. I heard messages that said to be a good parent, you provide what your children NEED, but even more so what they WANT.

Let’s talk about this struggle.

I should’ve owned stock in LeapFrog due to the number of their electronic toys that I purchased for my son, only because they were educational and would help with his language skills, color recognition, etc., or so I thought. I felt so disheartened when I found him playing with an empty 2-liter bottle rather than the toys I bought.

That was a pivotal point for me. I recognized that I was seeking external approval from friends and family rather than looking inside, and I realized what I was really teaching my sons. While I had taught them that they could have everything they wanted, I never taught them that there was a difference between a want and a need.

I composed a list of things that my sons really need from me, emotionally. It included:

  • Love
  • Time with me
  • Support
  • Discipline (teaching)
  • Comfort
  • Consistency
  • Teaching them values of hard work, sacrifice, persistence, grit, etc.

That was the easy part. The hard part was changing the expectations and behaviors of my sons. Every time we went to a store, their expectation was to get something because they WANTED it. Really, they wanted it because I taught them to expect it by usually getting them something. They didn’t like the word NO.

After one especially rough trip, we had a meeting of the minds.

  1. I no longer took them to the store with me.
  2. I explained to them the difference between a want and a need in practical terms.

For example…

Need:  Food (home-cooked); Want: Eating Out

Need: Shoes; Want: $200 name-brand that you are going to outgrow in 3 months.

Need: Uniforms for school; Want: Name-brand pants that you are going to get grass stains in and holes in the knee.

You get the idea.

As I look back, I’m so glad I made that pivot.

Even though that $1,000 high chair was fancy, I can’t put a dollar value on the lessons learned. My sons have grown into young men who know their worth doesn’t come from things like the right shoes or clothes or cars. And when they start parenting, they will know the difference between a want and a need.

Looking for more parenting resources? Click here!

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The Basics of Leaving a Legacy

In his booming voice, Dr. Rick Rigsby, author of Lessons From a Third Grade Dropout and former professor and coach at Texas A&M, recently spoke. He asked, “Are you living the kind of life that’s worthy of somebody following?”  Everyone is leaving a legacy. That legacy is either “It’s all about me,” or “I’m going to make excellence central in my life so I can leave something worthy of someone else following.”

Rigsby learned his most important life lessons from a third grade dropout: his father, who dropped out of school to help on the family farm.  

“My father, the wisest man I ever knew, told me, ‘Don’t expect other people to do for you what you can do for yourself.’ If you don’t have somebody teaching you, you aren’t going to know that. He also taught me, ‘It’s not about you.’ Can you help other people? My father had nothing. But he did leave a legacy on my life.”

For 30 years, Rigsby’s father left the house at 3:45 a.m. to get to work by 5 a.m., even though it was only a 15-minute walk. One morning his wife asked him why he left so early, and he replied, “There may be a morning when my boys see me get up, and I want them to know that showing up on time is the basic minimum. I’d rather be an hour early than a minute late.”

Rigsby challenged us to raise our expectations and grow our hearts for the disadvantaged. “The goal is to die broke after giving your best. When I was a child,” he said, “we were required to eat together at the table…at the same time. Expectations were high. That time was a blessing. What are you going to do with the blessings you have received? My mom would tell us, if you think you can or you think you can’t, you’re right.”

During Rigsby’s teen years, his father told him, “I’m not going to have a problem if you aim high and miss, but I’m going to have a real problem if you aim low and hit.” 

His father also taught him to stand and be a man. To make his point, Rigsby shared this story: “When I was 16 years old, I had an Afro so big I couldn’t fit into a VW. I came home with an attitude one day. I told my dad, ‘Dad, that white man told me I had to scrub toilets. Daddy, I don’t scrub toilets. I fry French fries. I make hamburgers.’ 

“My father responded, ‘Son, what does the color of one’s skin have to do with you displaying excellence?’

 “I realized this was not going to go the way I thought. He asked me, ‘Who signs your paycheck?’ 

“I told him and he said, ‘As long as he signs your paycheck, you do what he tells you to do. When you own your own restaurant you can do what you want. I want you to leave your car in the driveway. I want you to walk back to Jack in the Box and tell your boss your daddy said you are honored to volunteer for an eight-hour shift and all you want to do is scrub toilets. And when I see your boss later in the week he better tell me you’re his best employee.’”

That exchange between Rigsby and his father still impacts Rigsby today as he raises his own children.

Here are some of the other life lessons about leaving a legacy Rigsby learned from his father:

  • Look for opportunities to help people who need help the most. Not everyone has the luxury of having healthy role models. The goal is to give your all so you can give somebody else the opportunity to grow. 
  • Challenge yourself to be the best you can be every day. Great people are always stretching, growing and doing things that other people don’t. Ask yourself how you can be great today, not for yourself, but to get others to go where they will not go by themselves. 
  • Give people a reason for which to listen to you. When you go beyond the chains and shackles of your own sense of self-importance and commit to inconveniencing yourself for the sake of others, people will listen to you. We aren’t drawn to people who think it’s all about them.
  • Tell the truth, do what you say you’re going to do, and think the best of people.
  • Be a servant and make sure you have a smile on your face because somebody’s day might need uplifting. It’s not about you. 
  • How you do anything is how you do everything. You are what you repeatedly do, therefore excellence should be a habit, not an act.
  • Don’t ever be on time again. You will grow your influence when you show up early.
  • Don’t judge people. Evaluate yes, judge never.

“I have been all over the world,” Rigsby said. “We look at somebody different than us and decide whether or not we will connect with them based on our limited perception of them. How can you help somebody that you have already deemed unworthy? If all you see is what you see, you don’t see all there is that needs to be seen.” 

As he concluded, Rigsby shared about his first wife, who died of breast cancer. He said that a dying wife taught him how to life and be a man. His third grade dropout daddy, who wept as he stood with his son over the casket, told his son, “Keep standing. Just keep standing.” His father challenged him every day to put first things first.

Through the grief, Rigsby continued to stand. Eventually, he found new love with his wife, Janet. Together, not only are they building a legacy with their own children, they are also challenging others to seek to do the basics of relationships and leave a legacy better than anybody else. 

“Don’t quit. Keep standing. Pride is the burden of a foolish person. You will never impact anybody if you make it all about you. Serve at the most inopportune time.”

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Letters from Dad

Greg Vaughn lost his father to Alzheimer’s years ago.

“I remember it like it was yesterday,” says Vaughn. “I know my dad loved me because he made sure our family was taken care of. But he never could say ‘I love you,’ or ‘Son, I am proud of you.’ That void left a hole in my soul.”

As Vaughn was going through his father’s things, he kept looking for something left from his dad to him. The only thing he found was a rusty old fishing tackle box.

“I was mad at my dad for dying,” Vaughn says. “I was mad at myself for not trying harder to connect with him and started to throw that old fishing box in the trash. Then I decided to see what was inside. There, I found the remains of my father – fishing lures.

“As I felt myself getting angrier, a question popped into my head, ‘Hey big shot, you are out here mad at the world. If you were to die here in the garage, what would your wife and children hold in their hands tomorrow that would let them know they were the treasures of your life?’”

The answer caught Vaughn by surprise. He had always told his children and wife how much he loved them. Additionally, they made it a point to go on family vacations, which brought great memories. However, when it came to something tangible they could hold in their hands and treasure forever from him, he couldn’t think of anything he had given them. That’s when he had the idea for Letters from Dad.

“I called 12 of my closest friends and asked them if any of them had a letter of love and blessing from their father – not counting cards,” Vaughn says. “Not a single one of them said yes. Then I asked, ‘What would you give to have one?’ The answer was always, ‘More than you could imagine.’ Then I asked each of them if they had ever written a letter like that to their children. None of them had. I looked at each of them and said, ‘Don’t you think we should?’”

That was the beginning of a very special journey for these men. They decided they wanted to leave a legacy of faith, hope and love through the lost art of letter writing.

“Men hate to write letters,” Vaughn states. “But we decided to write four letters, the first being a letter of blessing to our wives. We had some divorced men in the group. One guy chose to write a letter to his ex-wife of 10 years thanking her for making him a father. It was a healing experience for both of them.”

The second letter the group decided to write was a blessing to their children. Since Vaughn has seven children, that was a real stretch for him.

Vaughn’s daughter, Brooke, shared that until her dad gave her a letter of blessing, her most-prized possession was a coat hanger from age 10 where her father wrote, “Hey Beck – I love you – Dad.” On her 22nd birthday, she got the letter with 15 reasons why she was a blessing as a daughter. Now she says, “I have more than a coat hanger to remember my dad.”

“The third letter we chose to write was a blessing to our parents,” Vaughn remembers. “Some of us had parents who had died so we wrote letters of tribute. The fourth and final letter was by far the hardest to write. It was for our families to read after we died. Most of us leave wills and trusts and rusty old stuff. What do we leave for our families to treasure forever?”

After they finished writing their letters, the guys decided to continue meeting monthly just to stay in touch and walk the fathering journey together.

Letters from Dad has increased in popularity as fathers seek to leave a legacy to their wives and children. If you hate to write or find yourself at a loss for words, the book has lots of samples. Plus, the author is happy for you to use some of the words yourself.

Whether your children are young or old, live near or far, are estranged from you or considering never leaving the fold, you can still leave a legacy. So, consider writing a letter… or two.

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The Legacy of a Mother

It has been said that life is about leaving a legacy. Mother’s Day is a great time to celebrate the legacy of moms and those who have come alongside us as stand-in moms, whether for a season at college or life in general.

According to a 2017 study of 2,000 American moms with kids between 5 and 12, commissioned by Welch’s, being a mom is the equivalent of working at least 2 1/2 full-time jobs. The study found that a mom works an average of 98 hours per week. 

The average mom starts her day around 6:23 a.m. and doesn’t stop until 8:31 p.m. And, she is lucky to get an hour and seven minutes to herself each day. Four out of 10 moms said their lives feel like never-ending series of tasks all week.

This information made me think about my life as a mom and my mother’s life as she parented three children, many of those years on her own.

My brother Lee was two years older than I and my sister Diane is 5 years younger than I.

My mom was 22 years old when she had my brother, and the doctors said he had a 50/50 chance of survival. On day seven, they took him out of the incubator and sent him home. At 4 months old, Lee became diagnosed with cerebral palsy. The physicians said he would be a quadriplegic, unable to walk.

At 10 months, my mother suspected a hearing problem when she noticed that Lee did not respond when she called his name. A hearing test confirmed a severe to moderate hearing problem. Lee was enrolled at the speech and hearing center when he was 2, where they learned he had significant learning challenges.

Growing up, I witnessed my mom being a ferocious mama bear when it came to making sure my brother had what he needed to learn and grow.

My sister and I certainly were not neglected, but my brother had some pretty focused needs. My mom stepped completely out of her comfort zone to advocate for Lee and make a difference for many others who faced all kinds of challenges. At one point she was the statewide president of the association for children with learning disabilities. Not only did my brother learn to walk and talk, he also graduated from high school with a special diploma and went on to do great things.

Lee passed away at the age of 56, having lived an incredible life. Although he faced many challenges, nothing discouraged him from embracing and living life full-on. Though he was far from perfect in the world’s eyes, Lee took his opportunities very seriously. Whether volunteer coaching middle school football or basketball or taking people’s dirty dishes in the cafeteria at K-25 Gaseous Diffusion Plant in Oak Ridge, Lee was all in. One time his basketball team lost by one point at the buzzer. As the coaches assessed the situation outside the locker room, one of the coaches asked Lee what he thought. He looked up and said, “I did my job.” He loved people and became affectionately referred to as the Mayor of Oak Ridge.

After my brother passed away, I was thinking about my mom’s legacy. For 60 years of her life, I’m pretty positive my mom worked at least 2 1/2 full-time jobs as she parented the three of us. Even on the most challenging days, she just kept putting one foot in front of the other and carried on. My mom’s example made a profound impact on her family.

Watching my mom navigate life taught me how to be strong, passionate and relentless. I learned that taking risks and stepping out of your comfort zone is part of living a full life. Through her love of cooking and entertaining, I have carried on many of her traditions and started some of my own. I also learned the importance of doing things right the first time. And yes, to my horror, I have opened my mouth at times to say something and heard my mom’s words come out with a phrase I’m sure I swore I would never say to my child. Sometimes you just have to laugh, right?

Every year on Mother’s Day, we celebrate the legacy of moms, whether they gave birth, chose to adopt or became one in some other way. Sometimes motherhood can feel like a thankless job. Truth be told, it is the chance to give the gift of life and leave a powerful impression on children. To my mom, the women who have spoken into my life, and all of the moms and women who have filled the role of mom through the years: Thank you!

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