Recently, I had a week full of experiences when I witnessed the presence of others and I was reminded of its power.
Profiles of Presence
I was invited to speak about the role of dads at a national conference focusing on family engagement. It was a large conference with hundreds of educators and school administrators who had travelled from across the country to be there. I was struck by the symbolism of their attendance. Those who understand the concept still believe that engagement is most effective when we are physically present. In a world that has become increasingly “virtual,” the attendees’ willingness to come together was testament to their understanding.
Moments of Hope
I watched as these dedicated educators and administrators shook hands, hugged friends and colleagues, and looked in their eyes and into their hearts. 
The brief interactions at the coffee station in the morning, the elevator rides to hotel rooms, the minutes sitting in a conference room waiting for the next breakout session to begin. Those were the moments when real conversations started. I heard them talk about their own families, their pets, their jobs, their students, and their school families. Interactions that lose their richness via email, by text or on social media. Those are the moments when folks calmly share their struggles and where an empathetic ear listens. That is when someone seeking a solution hears an anecdote about how another addressed that question. These are times of presence that are often unappreciated these days, but are perhaps the most valuable moments of all. Ask someone who attended a conference like this about something they learned. Most often they will relate a casual conversation rather than a presentation from a podium. These become moments of hope.
Ask parents when they learned something new about their kids. Often it has been during the drive to soccer practice, or on a walk with the dog, or in the quiet just before bedtime. In the presence of their children, these are the moments when parents give and receive. To embrace the hopes and fears of our children, we have to be there.
I saw a group of dedicated individuals who had found their “why”. They know that keeping families engaged in the lives of their kids and their schools will lead to positive outcomes. They know that academic outcomes are not the only measures of success. They know that teaching values and character and building relationships are keys to raising our children. Often lacking sufficient resources, these heroes pursue their purpose using the one tool they have. Their presence. Their superpower. Mr. Rogers told us to look for the helpers. I saw them.
A Hug
Traveling home from the conference, I stopped to have lunch with my adult son. As usual, we met each other with a hug. Not a text. Not a phone call. Not FaceTime or Zoom. A simple embrace. Another moment. Like hundreds we had exchanged before. There is no other feeling quite like hugging your child, no matter how old.
A greeting. Launching a conversation. A reconnection of the love between us. Hugs never grow old. You have to be there to feel it. Your presence is required.
Candy or Conversation?
On Friday evening that week, I attended a Halloween party in the street of our neighborhood. A short parade of kids in costumes around the block, then a dinner of hotdogs and juice boxes before the kids and parents began their tours around the neighborhood to trick or treat. I watched through the crowd as the kids from our street navigated their way toward my wife. They know her because she takes a genuine interest in them whenever she sees them. I watched as she engaged them in what I know was a simple conversation. Something like: Tell me about your costume. Who are you supposed to be? Tell me more. You look wonderful. Every child believing that they were the “star of the parade” in that moment when she focused on each individually.
As the evening rolled on and the sun set, those same kids would come to our front door to receive candy from the same lady. Throughout the evening, other neighbors would give them sweets and treats as tasty as hers. But I wonder which they valued more, the candy or the conversation.
If history repeats, much of the candy collected was eaten within twenty-four hours; then as much will eventually go stale and be thrown away. The specifics of those conversations with my wife will also fade. But the feeling of care will linger. Like a hug from a parent, the touch may disappear but reliving that feeling again is something a child will hope for. So, the kids on our street will come back to my spouse again and again seeking her interest; sharing conversation about the times of their lives and hoping to feel the power of her presence.
A good week. Moments that renewed my hope and faith. The work goes on.
P.S. Beginning November 16, PBS will air a new documentary series entitled The American Revolution. Another quality work by Ken Burns, this series will tell the story of our resistance against the British monarchy and the struggle to establish a new form of government. Like spring training with a new coach, I believe the series will be an exercise to review the fundamentals of our government, what our founders envisioned for us and how we should maintain the principles of The United States of America into the future. I believe it will be worth watching by dads.
