I am not a dad.
That’s really not a source of significant sadness for me. That’s just the way life worked out for Kathy and me- and our life together has been too rich and satisfying for me to dwell too much on this one matter. (I’m pretty sure she agrees.)
But I’m not immune to the occasional twinge of regret over not being a dad- especially at certain family gatherings when I see my niece Lorelai look adoringly at her dad (or vice versa) . . . or when I read something my brother has written about his experiences as a father. And I’m especially prone to such twinges on Father’s Day, when fathers across the country are awash in waves of gratitude and affection and guys like me find ourselves left out of the parade. . . . shunted to the curb.
Except that it really doesn’t work out that way. Over and over again, I find the reach of this day broadened to include those of us who are not dads but who still engage in a bit of fathering…. as uncles, older brothers, godfathers, teachers, coaches, mentors. And I am so touched by the generosity and sensitivity of people who are thoughtful enough to realize what it’s like to be a non-father on Father’s Day, and who find ways to include us in this celebration, in this parade, so to speak. (I still remember the Father’s Day some years ago when I said something to somebody at church about how Father’s Day was a little bit tough for me. Before the day was out, his daughter had left a message on our answering machine, thanking me for being almost like a second dad to her. That was a gesture of kindness I have never forgotten- first, that he would ask his daughter to do that, and secondly that she would do it. So sweet.)
Some highlights for me from Father’s Day, 2013. . .
A Mom’s Eloquent Thank You Note: I don’t want to embarrass this person -or her son- but I do want to acknowledge the beautiful thank you note which the mother of one of my voice students sent to me this morning on Facebook…. one of the nicest such thank you’s I have ever received. In it, she thanked me for what I had done to help her son become the fine young man that he is today. I have no idea if she had stopped to think about the fact that I’m not a dad or whether or not she had considered what Father’s Day feels like for those of us who are Non-Dads. All I know is that her thank you note was exactly what I needed to hear today- both for underscoring my significance in her son’s life, and for taking the time to express her appreciation for what I’ve done for him.
A Dad’s Thank You: Among the many lovely expressions of appreciation I saw on Facebook today, one of my favorites came from a friend of mine from Atlantic High School, Mike Wolfe. I’m sure at some point within the last day or two, Mike wrote something glowing about his wonderful dad, Gary Wolfe, an absolutely great guy and terrific father. But the posting from Mike that I ended up noticing was the one in which he wrote these words:
I am very thankful to be the dad of 3 great kids who have become awesome adults – Caitlin, Mairin and Brian. I love you guys and am proud to be your dad!
I’m sure other dads expressed similar sentiments, but there is something about the way Mike said it – so simply yet so beautifully – that touched me very deeply. And it underscored for me how this day is even richer when it is a day of two-way gratitude. And that leads me to new gratitude for the those in my life for whom I am teacher, mentor, uncle, godfather – who allow me to experience at least a hint of what it means to be a father. And it made me realize (if a little too late) that it makes as much sense for me to send out thank you notes as it does for me to receive them on a day like Father’s Day.
As for Mike’s dad, Gary, I love to think about the story told by a friend of ours (a retired high school band director) named Kathy Gentes, who grew up in the same little town as Gary did – Boone, Iowa. Kathy’s dad died when she was young, and all these years later she still cherishes the memory of all of the kindnesses shown to her and to her family in those difficult years. And her schoolmate Gary – a big, brawny farm kid – could not have been more compassionate, attentive or protective of Kathy. There is a special place in heaven for those who step in the lives of those who, one way or another, have lost a father and so desperately need that sort of emotional anchor in their lives.
The Lesson: I spent a couple of hours this afternoon working with two of my Carthage voice students, Nick Huff and Mike Anderle, who are planning on singing a junior voice recital this fall. And because they happen to live right here, it’s possible for us to meet from time to time to work on what has to be one of the toughest yet most exciting undertakings of their lives as singers. As I was working with the two of them, I kept thinking about the quasi-parental role that a voice teacher often has with their students. Nick and Mike may have wondered why I had a faraway look in my eyes, from time to time. It’s because I was busy amassing this list in my mind:
We are there to guide them- to inspire them- to lead by example- to praise them- to chide them- to listen to them. And because there is something so intangible about singing, requiring such imagination, and because one’s own voice/ our instrument is forever changing and growing, a voice teacher needs to provide a sense of assurance that we will be there to shepherd them through the slippery, unpredictable journey that almost all aspiring singers experience as both they and their own voice change and grow. We also get to be parental when we have a student who’s a bit lazy, maybe just a bit too complacent, or even (occasionally) too big for their britches. We are parental when a student suffers a disappointment (not getting a coveted solo or a particular role in a show or a place in a particular ensemble) and needs our comfort and encouragement. And we feel an almost parental joy in our students‘ growth and in their triumphs. And we feel the same sadness of a parent when the time comes for our student to move on. Above all, we certainly know that every student…. like every child…. is a unique human being, and what works perfectly for one may spell disaster for another. Each one represents a unique and potentially exciting journey, and there is nothing more challenging or satisfying than finding the key to unlocking each student’s full potential. I have never felt all this so powerfully as I do right now, and it makes me incredibly grateful to teach the young men that I do.
Speaking of teachers and teaching . . .
Pastor Mark’s sermon– Our church this summer is exploring the Fruits of the Spirit, and this morning we were focused on “Peace.” Pastor Mark’s wonderful sermon included some remarks about a now legendary educator named Geoffrey Canada, responsible for something called the Harlem Children’s Zone, which has transformed the lives of hundreds of at-risk youth in spectacular fashion. It brought to mind the thrilling experience I had of interviewing Mr. Canada when he came to Racine many years ago to talk about his newly published autobiography, “Fist, Stick, Knife, Gun.” It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life to sit across the table from this incredible man, whose life could not be more different from mine- and yet there we were, somehow talking the same language. My favorite quote from Geoffrey Canada is this:
“You can save any kid who hasn’t given up.”
God bless each and every educator and mentor who keeps a young person from giving up. I’m not sure there’s anything more essential in parenting – whether you’re an actual parent or not – than that.
Add to that a nice long phone conversation with my dad, supper with Kathy and her dad, an exuberant hug from my goddaughter Anneka at church, and the pleasure of reading my brother Steve’s touching essay about when he and his partner Scott adopted a little boy from Cambodia (the piece ran i n today’s Philadelphia Inquirer) and you can see how Father’s Day this year was a rich, rewarding day …. even for this non-father. Never before have I felt more like I was part of the parade.
pictured above: I love this picture of Kathy and I with our goddaughter, Anneka Barrow. She is so good about remembering Kathy on Mother’s Day and me on Father’s Day. (We’ve raised her well. lol)