You attend the seventh grade awards ceremony, and your daughter’s name is called several times. And you’re duly proud of course, because she works hard and has earned these academic accolades. But as you watch and beam at her, you begin to feel a growing disquiet. Because you notice there are some hard working kids whose names are not called. And you know those kids and they’re great, but maybe they struggle with a subject or two, or have other challenges they’re overcoming. And as you watch your daughter and some of her friends bask in the limelight, your pleasure for her is tempered by your empathy with these other kids. And you experience what should be a celebration as something a bit more brutal. And even though you’re not in the “Every Kid Should Get A Trophy” camp, you’re also not in the “Loft Your Trophy In Their Faces” camp. And you wonder whether what we’re doing with these kids is a motivating experience, or a fundamentally defeating one? But you have no answers.
And then it’s over, and you slip back to your car, and wait in the parking lot for school to let out. And these questions linger with you as you sit and listen to the rain striking your sunroof. And soon she’s with you, excitedly showing you her certificates. And she’s happy, so you’re happy too. And you have twenty minutes until her brother gets out, which is enough time together to watch most of an episode of Veep through the miracle that is HBO Go on an iPhone 6 Plus with unlimited data.
And even with all its thorny, unanswered questions, fatherhood is only getting cooler.