Yesterday my fiver-year-old and I were talking about marriage and family.  He told me that he wants to marry Suzie.  Then without missing a beat or seeming upset in any way he said, “But Suzie want’s to Mary Edmund” (I changed their names to protect the innocent, but “Suzie” and “Edmund” are two friends from kindergarten).  I took a glace in the rear view mirror to make sure that the big guy wasn’t entrenched in some sort of heart wrenching emotional turmoil.

I can’t read his mind, but he didn’t seem to be bothered in the least.  He had moved on to counting red cars (part of our math homework).  I informed him that I didn’t even meet his momma until I was older than thirty.  I told him that it’s nice to care about all of our friends and that we can worry about who we’re going to marry later.  He said, “Ok.”  This was an easy one; no heart break, no heaving guttural cries of uncontrollable emotional pain, no “not being able to live without her,” and seemingly no adverse side effects of young love thwarted what so ever.

When I told my wife about it she asked if he seemed rejected.  I reported that he didn’t, but as delivered the report I realized he would soon enough.  I thought back to my journey from zero to forty.  I can’t count the number of time I felt rejected.  I would be hard pressed to count the number of times so far this year.

Like me, my children are human beings.  Also like me, they live in this world.  In a certain light, neither truth is easy to accept.  These little human beings who I’m charged with protecting will undoubtedly feel rejected, dejected, defeated, unwanted, cast aside, misunderstood, and lots of other unsavory stuff over the course of the next several years and again from time to time throughout the rest of their lives!  We all have.  We all do.  It ain’t easy to feel hurt or to suffer social and emotional challenges, but it really ain’t easy to think about the perfect little people who we love beyond measure feeling hurt and/or suffering social and emotional challenges.

As a parent, this mild experience reminds me that my job is to do everything within my ever-developing power to facilitate a growth process by which each of my children learns to cope, bounce back, and emerge strengthened from the very trials that will undoubtedly knock them each down periodically.  I need to do what I can to show then that there’s joy to be found in every experience, even if that joy is more connected to learning and progress than immediate satisfaction.  I’ve come to unequivocally understanding that there truly is a time for everything under heaven, and that to embrace each time as it arrives is to live fulfilled.  I can’t take pain away but I can work to help my kids understand and appreciate pain as temporary and even essential.

As a principal, I have to remember that each of the incredible students I serve is also someone’s child.  No matter what any given one of them is experiencing in any given moment, there is someone at home charged with the same task that I’m charged with in the lives of my own children.  Someone is working hard to guide each of these little people through the inevitable social and emotional trails of daily life here on planet earth, and from bell to bell, it’s my job to make sure that guidance, grounded in the same core values and committed mission, continues.

Feeling the occasional sting of realization that my children are moving into the throws of some relatively confusing year reminds me that among the most important things I can do for my school community is perpetuate ongoing and authentic partnerships with students, teachers, and parents, so that we can work together, finding joy in every moment, and coming out the other end better for it!      None of us can shield our children from life’s ups and downs, and frankly, I believe that if we found a way we would be doing them each a great disservice.  As unpleasant as this projection is to think about, my intention with every child I serve is to see him or her through safely into a time when they each have no need for me.  Ironically, parenting, educating, and leading with that mindset, and knowing I’m getting better with each passing day, gives me comfort and confidence that even though I eventually won’t be there to see it…it’s going to be ok.

Live. Learn. Lead.

Dream Big. Work Hard. Be Well.