I have two daughters. I tell myself this as if I my other self was unaware. I have TWO daughters; two beautiful, brilliant, bold, Black girls.
Like any good parent, my wife and I want the best for our girls. What is best for our girls? This is a layered question that encompasses everything from Amazon Kids to Ziggy Marley. How many presents are too many? Should we enroll in private school or public school? What’s our stance on sugar? How should we react to meltdowns? How do we keep her proud of her uniqueness while helping her understand that we humans are all the same? Do we celebrate Kwanzaa? How do I tell her that the good guys are sometimes the bad guys? Where can we hide this generational trauma? How can we raise strong, intelligent, independent Afro-Latinas safely in the United States?
We don’t believe in spoiling them, but we don’t want them to feel less than their white counterparts. Honestly, all parenting is a balancing act, but there are added dimensions when you’re raising girls; far more when those girls are brown. Like many Millennial parents (I’m in Gen X) raising families in the 2020s,we struggle to be gentle parents. While neither of us were abused by our parents from a strict definition of the word, let’s just say we want to be different from the parents who raised us; parents that we love immensely.
I often think that things that are best are the things that will make them happy. Unicorns make my five year-old happy; so does ice cream with sprinkles, snow, trips to Dunkin, and papas (french fries). She doesn’t like going to bed at night, but she also doesn’t like waking up in the morning. She wants to be home, but she also wants to go outside and play. The little one brings us books to read but tells us that she’s done listening before we get to the second page. Kids, am I right? But adults, too, right? I’m happy when I’m alone, but I like to talk. I love when it’s time for bed, but I usually stay up late doing nothing important. Whether you’re one, ten, or 100 years old, happiness can be elusive, overwhelming, and troublesome. So, what is best?
When I was a youngish man, I worked at Chase Bank as a Teller, and I was happy-ish. I used to say that I’d do the job forever if it paid more. At the time, I was working two part-time jobs to make one life livable. After that first year with Chase, my manager didn’t think that this job was the best fit for my “talents”. Like I said, I like to talk. He encouraged me to pursue another role, and with that recommendation nudged my nascent financial services career over a cliff. I applied, interviewed, tested for a job I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted; Personal Banker. During this time at Chase, anyone who wanted to become a banker needed to be licensed, so I headed to Chicago to learn how to stay out of trouble with my new super powers.
To this day, I love being in the city; any city, if I’m being honest. There’s something about the commotion combined with the towering steel, unyielding concrete, symphony of sounds that culminates in a euphoric sense of belonging. While downtown, I learned the basics around having conversations about investment products. We talked about the SEC and FINRA. We discussed suitability, securities, strategies, and many other topics my brain can’t seem to conjure. One day, on my way back to the bus, I came across a towering man of charm and confidence; a man I instantly recognized as Chris Gardner. I knew it was Chris Gardner because I spent time researching his real life after seeing the on-screen portrayal in Pursuit of Happyness. He was far more engaging than I expected, and he even introduced me to his son. We probably only talked for about 10 minutes, but it felt much longer. They asked me questions about licensing and training, while I fawned over their presence. They were already standing in a spot that I envisioned for my future.
I wasn’t long for the role. I worked as a Personal Banker for about 15 months, but that conversation has stuck with me over the past 15 years. I’m sorry to say that there weren’t any aha moments about the course of my life. There weren’t any “aha” moments. Nor was there an in-depth discussion on the fleeting nature of happiness. It was a simple interaction; a conversation of anecdotes, jokes, and well-meaning silence. I enjoyed the brief meeting, but like many moments in my life, I wonder how things in my life could be different if I had… I guess that’s for another universe. Something tells me that happiness is just as elusive across the multiverse, though.
So, what’s best?
We were summoned to the principal’s office due to our kindergartener’s tardiness and absences. In the days preceding this meeting, I was feeling less and less like a good father. She laughed, she cried, she climbed back into bed. Trying to encourage a 5 year-old to move quickly at 7 in the morning had me stressed. We’d go back and forth, morning after morning, and I felt stuck. My wife would usually swoop in and save the day. Still, more tears. I tried giving her guilt trips instead of yelling, as if that were a better way to give her psychological issues. She’s only 5. She’s only 5. She’s only 5.
The principal talked to us about strategies to help our daughter and ways that she and the school staff could help us. Our daughter was quiet and contemplative as Mrs. Hughes asked her how we could help her. She’s usually brutally honest, but that’s a whole different post. It wasn’t until the end of the meeting that her personality snapped back into place. She saw a version of Newton’s Cradle on Mrs. Hughes’s desk and asked to touch it. The smile on her face calmed me instantly. Is this happiness?
When she got home from her favorite restaurant with the grandparents, she came in talking about everything and nothing. She hugged Mama and gave me a hug attack. It was like my daughter returned after a 3-day out of body experience. And with that, the world felt right again. There were no new Happy Meal toys, no bubbles, no stickers, no unicorns…well, no new unicorns; but there she was as happy as she’s ever been. This was beyond the fleeting Christmas happy or the Target run happy. This was something different.
Happiness, like the sugar version of emotions, is based on outer influences and subject to circumstances. There are these short highs followed by a crash. I’m happy that I have this new toy! > I’m angry that I can’t take it with me to church. > I don’t want my sister to play with it. > I don’t know where it is. > Can I have…fill in the blank. Happiness is fleeting. The pursuit of happiness is constant, but joy is something different. It’s a life of love that, while filled with memories of trifficult moments, leads you to where you know you’re meant to be. It’s celebrations, traveling, sitting, talking, laughing, and simply being with the people you love most. Joy defies the gravity of life’s lows that threaten to pull you back into bed and under the covers. While we have not come up with a solution to get 5 out of bed without grumbles, I know that our goals to give both girls the gift of joy will carry us through to each coming day.
Love.
Dear Lord,
Thank you for the opportunity to raise these two beautiful spirits. Help us guide them in your path and protect them from all harm. Give us the strength and guidance to be the best parents that we can be, and grant us the ability to provide all the tools they will need to be good humans now and as they grow. Bless us with continuous joy in our hearts regardless of the challenges we face. As always, may your will be done.
In Jesus name,
Amen.
