"Remember your name,"
a friend from my college days would say to his teen son as he walked out the door to meet friends for a night out.
My friend's message, he explained, was "You're my son. We're connected, and what you do will have consequences that will impact me and my family's name. Make sure that you always bring respect to the name and not ruin."
I think that's a great message for Dads to deliver to their sons, because it covers the next two of the four most important things a father can say to a son: You are my son and I love you.
The first has to do with connection. Boys are often raised in a way that makes them very independent. When they go through those turbulent teen years, they often forget not only that they are mortal and that they can create lifelong trouble for themselves in one night, they also forget that they are connected to others.
When talking with my son, I reminded him of the heritage given him by the men in our family. Both my father and father-in-law--his grandfathers--were hard-working, honest, and kind men who led their families through thick and thin. They stood against injustice, loved their wives, and disciplined their kids. And they were generous to their grandkids.
I've tried hard to follow their example. And, as my son reached manhood, the baton was passed to him. The challenge to him was, "What will you do with it? Remember your name."
That message can be overwhelming, though. It's a lot of weight on a young man's shoulder. So the message needs to be mixed with a healthy dose of, "Remember, I love you no matter what." How many of us handled ourselves perfectly? ("Nobody" is the answer, if you're not sure.) We all, at some point in our life, needed to be held accountable; but also needed to be forgiven and supported.
My father held all of his sons accountable, but we never felt like he severed himself from us. He continued to support us with help, advice, cash when necessary, and pride when we succeeded in doing the right thing. The message was rarely, if ever, spoken. But it was felt: "You're my son and I love you."
Don't forget to say the important things before time runs out. Here's an idea: Start early and say it often so it's natural by the time your son reaches his teens.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Conversations with a Son/Go Deep
There are four things I believe a man yearns to hear from a father.
Before I cover the first two, though, I need you to broaden your definition of the word, "hear."
Men not only don't have the verbal skills that women do, they don't have the temperament for sharing deep feelings in a verbal form. So men have to "listen" in different ways to what their fathers say--often through action rather than words.
That said, here are two of the most important things boys and young men need to hear from a father figure: "You're a man and I'm proud of you."
I'm no psychologist, so I would get into deep trouble trying to tell you why we need to hear this. But I'd bet the farm that this is true of most men, if not all. There is a deep need to be included in the fraternity of men. And, only other men can extend that inclusion.
So as men, we need to be ready, open and able to saying this to young men. Inclusion in male activities is the most comfortable way to communicate this. Way too many boys spend their lives waiting in the crowd of "unwanteds" waiting to be picked for a team. Being chosen last is every bit as bad as not being picked at all.
That's why the father-son relationship is so critical. As a Dad, you can choose your son and let him know you're proud to have him on your team.
When doing things that men do, include your son or that young man you're mentoring. That can be work (like yard work, building or fixing something, maintaining the car) or it can be pleasure (like hiking, hunting, boating, biking). Simply by including your son, you are making a statement that he is a man. And the fact that you want to spend time with him tells him you're proud of him.
But there is no doubt that words make a difference. Young men need to be told these things so there are no doubts later. Guarantee the very first words spoken about you were, "He's a boy!" Those words need to be repeated often.
As part of my son's rite of passage, I reminded him that his grandfather (my Dad) bought him a boy's knife when he was only about one or two years old. What my father was saying back then was, "You're a boy, with all the potential to be a man."
My father died before my son reached his fifth birthday, so I finished my father's message when my son reached his early twenties. I reminded him of my father's gift and how that small knife represented his prediction that my son would make a fine man. Having made it to manhood, I gave my son a man's knife and let him know I was proud of him.
Before I cover the first two, though, I need you to broaden your definition of the word, "hear."
Men not only don't have the verbal skills that women do, they don't have the temperament for sharing deep feelings in a verbal form. So men have to "listen" in different ways to what their fathers say--often through action rather than words.
That said, here are two of the most important things boys and young men need to hear from a father figure: "You're a man and I'm proud of you."
I'm no psychologist, so I would get into deep trouble trying to tell you why we need to hear this. But I'd bet the farm that this is true of most men, if not all. There is a deep need to be included in the fraternity of men. And, only other men can extend that inclusion.
So as men, we need to be ready, open and able to saying this to young men. Inclusion in male activities is the most comfortable way to communicate this. Way too many boys spend their lives waiting in the crowd of "unwanteds" waiting to be picked for a team. Being chosen last is every bit as bad as not being picked at all.
That's why the father-son relationship is so critical. As a Dad, you can choose your son and let him know you're proud to have him on your team.
When doing things that men do, include your son or that young man you're mentoring. That can be work (like yard work, building or fixing something, maintaining the car) or it can be pleasure (like hiking, hunting, boating, biking). Simply by including your son, you are making a statement that he is a man. And the fact that you want to spend time with him tells him you're proud of him.
But there is no doubt that words make a difference. Young men need to be told these things so there are no doubts later. Guarantee the very first words spoken about you were, "He's a boy!" Those words need to be repeated often.
As part of my son's rite of passage, I reminded him that his grandfather (my Dad) bought him a boy's knife when he was only about one or two years old. What my father was saying back then was, "You're a boy, with all the potential to be a man."
My father died before my son reached his fifth birthday, so I finished my father's message when my son reached his early twenties. I reminded him of my father's gift and how that small knife represented his prediction that my son would make a fine man. Having made it to manhood, I gave my son a man's knife and let him know I was proud of him.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Conversations with a Son/Think About It!
Fathers should talk with their sons.
Even as I type these words, I want to put qualifiers on the statement. You see, I feel I could have done a better job in this vital area of relationship with my son.
My reflex is to rationalize why the conversations with my son didn't happen in the numbers they should have. And to rationalize why the talks that did happen didn't go deep enough.
But I realize, too, that I may be judging myself with the same ruler I use when thinking about my relationship with my father. And that's not fair--to me or to my father. You see, every relationship is impacted by uncontrollable variables. No relationship happens under ideal conditions. As human beings, we're constantly attempting to build relationships while at the same time battling against elements that make that difficult.
My Dad grew up in a Depression-era home in desolate West Texas with five brothers and sisters. His father was a harsh man, perhaps made that way because of the difficult life he constantly struggled against. Work was always hard to find. And when my grandfather found it, he had to work at it non-stop to make ends meet.
My father left home at 16 to get in on the tail end of World War II. To my grandfather's credit, he refused to sign the papers when my Dad was only 15, even though he desperately wanted to join the war before it ended. My grandfather told his son, "Wait a year. If you still want to join when you're 16, I'll sign the papers." Also to my grandfather's credit, he kept his word and signed the papers shortly after my Dad's 16th, and my father followed his two older brothers into the conflict.
I've wondered if there was a conversation between father and son as my Dad left town for Navy boot camp. If there was, it probably consisted of a "Take care of yourself" and a short "good-bye."
My father survived the war. He had left as a boy, but returned as a man. Again, I wonder if there were any father-son conversations about my Dad's experiences, about the war, about what my father saw and learned. I'm left with the impression that those types of conversations never happened, because my father rarely spoke of his Dad.
My grandfather died before I was born, so I can't speak to his personality or to his abilities as a father. Like most of the men with families in those very hard days, I think life was consumed with surviving. The privilege of being able to work on your father-son relationship is ours today because of men like my grandfather and father who sacrificed to make this country vital and secure.
Which brings me back to my first point for this week's blog. Men, because we have the privilege of a secure country with a decent economy that provides most an opportunity to make a livable wage, we should take advantage of what we have. Especially when it comes to spending time with our sons.
Let me take it a step further to men who don't yet have sons. There are scores of young boys out there who do not have a father influence in their lives. Consider mentoring a young boy. Be a friend and a role model, maybe through Big Brothers or some other organization.
You should be using your influence to introduce positive things into the lives of young men. The most important thing you can do for a boy is to simply validate him as a young man. It's something that can only be conferred by one man onto another.
More about this later this week. For now, think about the conversations you wish you had had with your father. What would you cover with him if you had the chance?
Even as I type these words, I want to put qualifiers on the statement. You see, I feel I could have done a better job in this vital area of relationship with my son.
My reflex is to rationalize why the conversations with my son didn't happen in the numbers they should have. And to rationalize why the talks that did happen didn't go deep enough.
But I realize, too, that I may be judging myself with the same ruler I use when thinking about my relationship with my father. And that's not fair--to me or to my father. You see, every relationship is impacted by uncontrollable variables. No relationship happens under ideal conditions. As human beings, we're constantly attempting to build relationships while at the same time battling against elements that make that difficult.
My Dad grew up in a Depression-era home in desolate West Texas with five brothers and sisters. His father was a harsh man, perhaps made that way because of the difficult life he constantly struggled against. Work was always hard to find. And when my grandfather found it, he had to work at it non-stop to make ends meet.
My father left home at 16 to get in on the tail end of World War II. To my grandfather's credit, he refused to sign the papers when my Dad was only 15, even though he desperately wanted to join the war before it ended. My grandfather told his son, "Wait a year. If you still want to join when you're 16, I'll sign the papers." Also to my grandfather's credit, he kept his word and signed the papers shortly after my Dad's 16th, and my father followed his two older brothers into the conflict.
I've wondered if there was a conversation between father and son as my Dad left town for Navy boot camp. If there was, it probably consisted of a "Take care of yourself" and a short "good-bye."
My father survived the war. He had left as a boy, but returned as a man. Again, I wonder if there were any father-son conversations about my Dad's experiences, about the war, about what my father saw and learned. I'm left with the impression that those types of conversations never happened, because my father rarely spoke of his Dad.
My grandfather died before I was born, so I can't speak to his personality or to his abilities as a father. Like most of the men with families in those very hard days, I think life was consumed with surviving. The privilege of being able to work on your father-son relationship is ours today because of men like my grandfather and father who sacrificed to make this country vital and secure.
Which brings me back to my first point for this week's blog. Men, because we have the privilege of a secure country with a decent economy that provides most an opportunity to make a livable wage, we should take advantage of what we have. Especially when it comes to spending time with our sons.
Let me take it a step further to men who don't yet have sons. There are scores of young boys out there who do not have a father influence in their lives. Consider mentoring a young boy. Be a friend and a role model, maybe through Big Brothers or some other organization.
You should be using your influence to introduce positive things into the lives of young men. The most important thing you can do for a boy is to simply validate him as a young man. It's something that can only be conferred by one man onto another.
More about this later this week. For now, think about the conversations you wish you had had with your father. What would you cover with him if you had the chance?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)