Hope for the kids?
2023-07-31
Dear friend,
"Way too long of an email," a senior engineering estimator wrote back to me.
True, my last newsletter clocked in at over 1,000 words, obscure tales about the HÃaitÃihi included (see As American as scrambled eggs).
But was it too long? My reference point is letter-writing.
As a kid I started writing letters to friends from summer camp who lived in other places. I wrote on notebook paper, double-sided, sometimes for pages and pages. I'd add favorite lyrics on the envelopes and drawings in the margins.
There was nothing more satisfying than folding those pages, sealing the envelope shut, licking a stamp, and dropping it in a mailbox. The only thing more satisfying was receiving a similar reply.
When I got my first email address in the 1990s, I treated it the same way. Thoughts. Stories. Questions. Photos.
If I could lick a stamp to send all these hundreds of emails on their way, I would.
Even so, replies like the one above can make me ask myself, why do I do this?
In truth, I don't know. Some people sing. Some people cost-estimate. I like to tell stories. Does anyone know why they do what they do what they do?
But there's more to it. Here's a snapshot of one moment last week that encapsulates why I've been pouring energy into email form.
For the professionals out there, this one's about the power of bringing authentic expression to the Teams meeting.
***
Pliny Park occupies the corner of High and Main Streets in Brattleboro, Vermont.
Decades ago, when I first started visiting Brattleboro, you could park there for Dunkin' Donuts.
Corner of High and Main Streets, Brattleboro Historical Society photo
Pliny Burrows was a Brattleboro merchant who established Burrows Sports Shop, and now it's a park named for him.
I took the following picture in Pliny Park on Thursday at 4:30 p.m. That's my son with the red hair, and my friend Jack on the bench. I'm holding my flute in one hand while I take the photo.
A July Thursday in Pliny Park, Brattleboro, Vermont.
Here's how it happened.
Jack dropped his truck off for service (with Dave at Sonny's -- see Work is love is dignity).
I took my son and we drove in to Bratt to pick him up.
"Why don't we bring some hand drums and play a little music while we're there?" I had suggested before we left the house.
My son grabbed his ukulele. I got my flute. We got Jack at the park with the Civil War statue we put the googly eyes on that one time (see Play with your history). We parked in front of Brown & Roberts Hardware and brought our instruments to the park.
We'd been playing for about 5 minutes, enough time to get into some rhythms.
That was when the three boys cut through the park. "Whoa! What's this?" one of them said. "I can play the ukulele!" he said to us.
"Let's see what you got," said Jack.
My son handed over the uke and he started to strum.
"We can rap," said the tallest of the boys. The two other kids started to freestyle and dance. The kid on uke strummed to my son's beat. I added some bass notes on my flute. When the rappers finished their verses, Jack responded in turn. They hung out with us for 10 minutes, then went on their way.
"Bye," we said. "Have a great life," said Jack. We went on to jam for a few more songs before getting ice creams on Elliot Street.
***
I hear it so often:
--"I can't in good conscience bring children into this world."
--"What kind of world are we giving our kids?"
--etc.
And it's true, there are a lot of negative indicators.
Take Brattleboro. There are a lot of people experiencing drug addiction and homelessness walking around. Sometimes they're camping in Pliny Park.
Wherever you live in the world, you've got a version of it. Opioids, housing shortages, climate change -- they feel suffocating and dark.
But I'm excited for my son's life. He'll see extraordinary changes. He'll have the chance to be a part of them and play a role in them.
Challenges? You bet.
But for every challenge, I'm also seeing so many Vermonters step up with contributions. Maybe it's not until it gets this dark that people realize that they are emanating light.
We all remarked on the energy that three random teenage boys brought at Pliny Park. I'm also proud of how my son and Jack and I showed up. We put energy out there. They matched it and added theirs.
Some people write about:
--metrics for success
--best practices
--political positions
--new studies
I cover all that from time to time. But aren't we already saturated with that stuff?
I would say the world's problems start to seem smaller when we have more moments like this one:
--play
--free expression
--exploration
--connection
--non-attachment
At the park on Thursday, no work was done. No task was completed. We had no audience, and the music wasn't polished. We didn't write it down. Simply living in the moment was enough.
Kids and kittens know this. Grown-ups forget.
Lupine and Lavender -- they fight, they clean each other. They sleep.
I don't need to summon hope for the kids. They were born for this world. They've got everything they need.
That includes us, showing up every day, expressing ourselves.
***
Anyway, that's why I'm writing this newsletter.
P.S. There's an urban legend that I'm happy to keep alive -- that the repeated circular motifs in Pliny Park evoke donuts.
P.P.S. This post by the Brattleboro Historical Society has some wonderful recollections about Dunkin' Donuts. The surface parking in front is a no-no in today's urban planning, but the location was a real place where Brattleboro residents hung out and knew each other on a first-name basis. Try finding that in one of today's drive-thru's.
This corner was known for a while as "Dr. Hall's Garden." In the New England tradition of giving directions based on who previously lived someplace, Dr. Gardner H. Hall, Brattleboro's first physician, had his medical office and a drug store in a small building. It burned in 1797, but locals called it that for years.