18 Apr The Real “F” Bomb
This college entrance scandal has been weighing heavy on my heart and soul; even though I have not committed any fraud or criminal act, how complicit have I been in being part of a society and culture that values success, sometimes no matter the cost.
As parents we want the best for our children: a better life; the best of health; access to the best education; and may I add failure. Yes, failure: the act of not succeeding at something, possibly coming in second or not getting on the scoreboard at all. Honestly, our family knows little to nothing about sports. Our children as well as Damon and I do not follow major league anything or the national football game. We are devotees of the circus arts. You read that correctly: Our family ran away with the circus and as I tell anyone who will listen, it is the best thing that could have happened to us.
Both boys (on their backs) basing each side of this human pyramid.
A handful of years ago, after being in circus for a few short years, our children tried out for acts with numerous other participants late one August night. Damon assists the circus director and assistant director on tryout nights with his technology know-how and he happens to be a trainer and is there anyway. Our circus runs primarily on all volunteers, and that year we had over 400 performers, as well as countless people such as trainers and a half dozen departments that put on nine shows. It is a labor of love for many and a calling for all who are involved. You just don’t run away to the circus without having a little bit of freak in ‘ya.
Late that August night, I nestled the kids into bed, saying our nightly prayers without their father being present. As I opened the windows, after a day of blistering heat, to let in the cool desert air, the freight train in the canyon signaled its passing.
“Mama, there were a lot of good kids there tonight,” one of the boys said with a bit of apprehension.
“I’m sure there were, Brother,” I replied kissing his forehead. “There will always be others who are better, but did you do your best?”
Slowly and in unison the kids all nodded.
“Then go to bed with an easy heart, knowing that to be true, no matter the results.”
A few hours later the phone rang. It was Damon.
“Hey babe,” I said glancing at the clock. It was almost midnight. “What time are you getting home? I’m drifting in and out of sleep on the couch.”
There are very few times that I can recall hearing disappointment in Damon’s voice and actually feeling it across the phone lines. There was a heaviness in his voice that is rare.
“The kids didn’t get into any classes,” he stated in shock. “They’re all wait-listed.”
Hearing my silence on the other end, he went on to explain that the circus had more participants trying out than any year previously and many came into tryouts with years of gymnastics or cheer behind them already.
The director at that time, having known our family for a few years, asked if he could approach the trainers whose classes the kids tried out for and request special circumstances for our children. “You have good kids,” he said with a tang of pity in his voice.
Something inside of me shifted. Something hot and burning like a lit match, fueled from grandparents and parents and ancestors. Poise. Morals. Integrity. Perhaps a combination of all three.
“Under no circumstances are we going to do that!” I exclaimed. “Our children will not receive special treatment. This is a learning moment, as difficult on the kids as us.”
That night restless sleep was expected, knowing that Damon and I would be the bearers of dashed dreams and hopes, of a possibility of a circus year not to be. The next day we sat the kids down and explained that sometimes things don’t turn out how we want, that sometimes we fail even though we have given it our best. We hugged them, tears were shed (mostly mine), and we kissed them off to school.
Later that day over dinner, we discussed the emotions present with disappointment and what we can create from this moment. The kids who got into class were clearly more physically fit than ours and they had invested time into training their bodies to perform at a higher level. Plain and simple: They were hard-workers and better athletes.
“Should we ask Grandma and Grandpa for this year’s Hanukkah gift to be extra classes at a local circus gym where the student to coach ratios are smaller and you can get stronger?” I asked.
Besides the extra training, the boys decided that there were workouts they could do at home to build their upper body strength. We provided our children a safe home to heal from a setback all the while guiding them towards a strength that lies silently in all of us, a desire to grow into a better version of ourselves even amongst the shadows of sadness; a resilience that develops amongst the tragedies and heartaches of our lives.
“This Whisper is the voice of the Eternal reminding us of a Power that runs through our magical human DNA.”
You too have heard the voice from within, I’m sure of it. That whisper that says you’ve got this, all you need is right here, you are enough just as you are. This Whisper is the voice of the Eternal reminding us of a Power that runs through our magical human DNA. Our children are learning that no matter what happens in life, they are not their failures or mistakes nor their successes and accomplishments; that they have been created from Something beyond the achievements that our culture creates as valuable. We have all been born with a worth that is priceless.
In a few days we were told that all three children got into one class from the wait list. They still opted for extra circus lessons. They trained daily whether they had practice or a performance. Last year the boys were head trainers of an act called duo cube. The last three directors of the circus approached Damon privately to share what an outstanding routine our sons had created. Duo cube had many of the girls who arrived in circus the same year our children were wait-listed and have become some of the boys’ best friends. From the music to the tricks to the story-telling, their act was magical, and I believe it is because of their pure passion for the circus arts that was never tainted, and remains a joy for them to pursue.
“Human beings who seek redemption are not less than, but hold as much magic as when they entered this world but have lost sight of the leader within.”
The families of the college scandal, like so many others in our society, were held to a higher standard because of their roles in our culture: celebrities, the ultra-rich, and leaders. Maybe it’s time we rethink where true leadership comes from; that forgiveness isn’t bestowed upon one another; that mistakes will be made but mercy follows; that human beings who seek redemption are not less than, but hold as much magic as when they entered this world but have lost sight of the Leader within. I hope my fellow brothers and sisters learn to forgive themselves, heal and hold one another in compassion. It is from that place alone that empathy exists.
Recently, one of the boys and I discussed the college admissions fraud case.
“I don’t know of a Universe where your father or I would make this choice,” I said shaking my head.
Looking at me with a steely gaze, Jonah stated firmly, “Even if you wanted to, I wouldn’t go along with it.”
That lit match, fueled with Dignity derived from the Divine, was aflame in another generation. I smiled and walked out of his bedroom and left him to his studies.
No Comments