Prom Night?
When we first began Be There Dad we talked about how and from whom our children would get their life lessons
and advice. Most dads readily agreed that there were lots of potential sources. Our kids listened to other kids on the playground. Kids on the school bus. In the locker room. Late at night during sleepovers. With raised eyebrows most dads were skeptical about the accuracy and value of such information, but even more we were concerned about the influence of those conversations on our children. As an example, we wondered how a list of questions might be answered on prom night when following the advice of the “crowd”.
As a strategy, we encouraged dads to position themselves so their children 
would see them as a source of information and advice. This would require dads to be present. And then through consistency create a feeling of approachability. Our goal was that when faced with meaningful (sometimes life changing) decisions, our kids might come to their dads for conversation rather than rely on the aforementioned “kids on the bus”.
What Do You Think?
I am reminded of a situation I shared some years ago when my son moved into a house – his first transition from apartment living. During the first two months or so, I got some interesting questions. The first came when he was contemplating the added responsibilities that came with a house and a yard, he asked, “do you think this is a good idea?” Soon after, there were more basic questions about painting the living room, connecting the washer and replacing an old light fixture. The inquiries started with phrases like, “Have you ever… “How would you…” and usually ended with, “What do you think I should do?”
While I know even then he consulted the internet for technical answers, (likely starting searches with some of the same inquiries), I sensed a feeling of reassurance that came with asking his dad. Confirmation from someone who had “been there, done that.” Life lessons from someone who had learned from mistakes undertaking similar tasks. Advice from someone who knew the skill set and thought process of the one asking.
Each time he raised a question, I was pleased that he sought my advice and that we could have a conversation. It has been my enduring hope that by “keeping that conversation going”, if one day more serious issues arise, he will reach out to me then, too.
Those conversations were founded on many years working to build a relationship based on trust. Why else would he ask me? We all know there are better sources of advice on things like connecting a dryer vent than yours truly. But the years of conversation in carpool line, on the soccer field and while playing catch had led to a willingness to seek my opinion. On more than one occasion, I had to say, “I don’t know.” But at least I got the question and we had the chance to talk.
Artificial Intelligence versus Dad Intelligence
Interestingly, today the challenge seems to be the same. However, the urgency has increased since now
the potential source of advice is constantly available in our children’s hands via social media or AI. The “competition” for connection has become more convenient. More and more folks are turning to artificial intelligence for help in more and more aspects of their lives. It seems that connection is turning into dependence. We know that it is impacting our relationships. Our ability to communicate. Our trust in and reliance on each other. Perhaps today we need to become “dad intelligence”. The real thing.
Pruning My Hydrangeas
Internet videos have been helpful to me when I asked how to clean the filter on our washing machine. AI has enlightened other inquiries like: Can I get an Uber outside Wrigley Field after a night game? And, when do I prune my hydrangeas? The internet can be a helpful starting place especially when you are exploring something new. I have gratefully used videos to convince myself that I do not have the skills to patch a hole in my drywall. The internet has given me reason to seek and hire a professional. All good. But what about the deeper decisions?
Life Decisions
I have the same concern when we began. I wonder about the growing dependence on other sources to help our children make life decisions. What should I do if I am being bullied in the hallways of middle school? Should I ask Melissa to the Prom? What should I say? Which college should I attend? And maybe other trajectory changing questions like: Should I drink with my friends? Use marijuana? I am depressed, does anybody care?
Out of curiosity, I have “Googled” searches including: What should I do if I am depressed? I am lonely. I am thinking about suicide. To my surprise, I found answers. I am concerned that our children will be satisfied that all the answers and support can come from screens and they will fail to feel the need for relationships with dads and moms. Silly as it may sound, despite the sophistication of algorithms, our goal should be to know our children better than their phones.
I was struck by the statement of a college student whose close friend had just taken his own life. He said, “… there are tons of people who would’ve wanted to help him. I just want to know why he felt so alone that he wasn’t able to reach out about something like this.” What if AI has become the first option for reaching out? As dads, we might not have the answers, but maybe we don’t need all the answers. Maybe we just need to be that one among “the tons of others who wanted to help” that our kids will turn to when they need an answer. We can be that option.
Becoming the Option
We have to do the work. We have to take the time to listen – no matter what the topic– bad grades, a lost game, a lost love, a lost job, or just a bad day. Dads can be there with a smile, a hug or a pat on the back. Doing what phones can not.
Rather than complaining about how “young people” use social media and rely on their phones, Simon Sinek reminds
us that we (dads) are the leaders of that generation and we have a responsibility to help our children navigate through their lives. In Jesus, CEO , Laurie Beth Jones tells the story of a young Amish boy who out of a sense of rebellion started a fire that destroyed the barn of a fellow Amish farmer. When the farmer was asked what punishment he thought the youth deserved, he replied, “It is we who have failed him, somehow.” Are we fulfilling our responsibility to guide our youth in activities without screens?
Cherish the Questions
With patience, be delighted to answer questions about paint colors and dryer vents. Appreciate the never ending and sometimes frustrating inquiries about fireflies, the man in the moon and why it rained on our soccer game. Be present. Be approachable. Listen to what your kids need to talk about. What questions are on their minds? Be available. Appreciate the fact that they have asked. Cherish the chance to answer. Become the trusted source. Become “dad intelligence”.
