Tag Archives: kids

Letters to Ellie: How to Know if You’re a Good Rebel

We got to visit Ellie last month (first time I had seen her in two months), and it was amazing. During one of our conversations, we talked about what it meant to be a good rebel versus a bad rebel. This letter came out of that discussion.

Last night I had a football dream. (I know…sports–groan–but stick with me.) I was playing linebacker on defense and wanted to destroy the other team’s quarterback. I could see his eyes – he was cocky and taunting me. I wanted to take him down. I maneuvered around the backfield looking for the perfect line to blitz.

But another member of my team looked at me, saw what I was doing, and pleaded for me to cover the outside, not attack the quarterback. It was like telling a starving man not to touch the cheeseburger in front of him.

As hungry as I was, I relented and did my job covering the outside. I let the other players blitz, which forced the quarterback to throw an errant pass in my direction. I dove for the interception….

In doing so, my IRL body jolted awake in bed with a racing heartbeat.

But I was psyched – I’m pretty sure I made the interception! Maybe I’ll make All-Dream-League this year.

football

Why is this relevant?

Here’s my topic: when I was your age, I thought I was a rebel. When I felt disrespected or patronized, I would lash out: yelling at refs, coaches, teachers and anyone else who would get in my way. 

Problem was, I wasn’t doing it for what I thought was right for the world. I was doing it for my own selfish interests. For what made me look good.

And I didn’t understand the consequences and collateral damage I was causing. I was alienating myself from friends and creating rifts with adults through my typhoon of rule-breaking, yelling and petty battles.

The desire and ability to stand up to people ultimately served me well. But it took a while to harness it for good.

Part of being a good rebel is to stand for something: to have a belief, a voice and the passion to see it through. From singers to artists to athletes, rebels can reshape our understanding of what can be and cause us to question our assumptions. 

The other part is to work change from within, instead of constantly fighting the power directly. Collaborate with people to get things done. Prince was a rebel. He created groundbreaking music and inspired a generation of musicians. But he also worked for Warner Brothers and Arista music to get his albums out. He chose his battles on the dance floor.

“It’s not wise to violate rules until you know how to observe them.” – T.S. Eliot

What finally changed it for me was football: working with coaches and players I respected and giving myself fully to a larger goal than my own selfish desires. I didn’t agree with everything, but I played by the rules because I believed in it. And once I was a part of it, I could influence change from within. Trying to change from the outside is like trying to force political change in a country without speaking the language.

And those are some of my happiest moments: being a source of strength for other people on a good, shared mission, one that’s bigger than any of us.

I know you’ll have the same moments. You’re a natural leader, a strong voice, and a great rebel.

Letters to Ellie: The Power of Canned Spam

In my continuing series of letters to my daughter, who is away for awhile, some thoughts about why humor is vital to a good life.

I was a class clown when I was your age (12). From cartoon impressions to soap opera soliloquies to Three Stooges slapstick, I prioritized laughs over academics. Getting laughs made me feel like I belonged and could other people happy.  

I prayed early on to the comedic gods through Steve Martin and Monty Python records. The other kids weren’t really exposed to English comedy, so they just assumed I was obsessed with Spam. 

silly walk

It irritated the teachers to no end, especially since they got used to my sister’s straight-A ways before me (“Are you sure you’re Kristin’s brother?”). 

It may have been due to my parents getting divorced early on and my home life getting messy. It’s a widely-held belief that comedians all have troubled childhoods (just try Googling it), but this was the 70’s and 80’s and divorce-driven latch-key lifestyles for kids were rampant. So in theory, the whole class should have been an ensemble improv sketch. 

Whether or not I was trying to make up for a difficult home life, making people laugh stuck with me. I was never a genius at it, but learned early on how well life flows when information exchange is wrapped in comedy. Like those peanut butter pill pockets you give to dogs. 

It can go too far, and many people use humor as an escape or coping mechanism. That’s why humor shouldn’t lead the way but play a supporting role. Just look at John Stewart or John Oliver. They have been changing the world by delivering news in a comedy pill pocket. The news is what’s important, but the delivery leads to smiles, not furrowed brows. 

Having run companies, I’ve seen how cultures can develop through humor, assuming of course that the organization is succeeding. No amount of pizza parties, “mixers” or joke emails are going to create a good culture when you’re not doing well. But if that company is succeeding AND has a wit and wisdom that surrounds its work, amazing things happen. People feel connected to something that opens up a part of them that hasn’t come out before. Everyone feels in on the joke and will do anything they can to help the company stay on top. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about this topic because, in times like this, humor can be hard to access. I certainly has been for me. The wind is out of my sails and I’m missing one of my favorite riffing partner (hint: you). 

But all the more reason to seek out those people who can help add a silver lining by being our partners in laughter. People who not only get your humor, but improve it, who make you laugh, who make you love yourself when you’re with them. The people who understand the power of “Yes, and…” That’s when life is great.  

If you can’t find them right now, that’s okay. It’s just a flesh wound. I’ll send you a coconut.