Gangnam Style, Lifeguards & Work Ethics

I never heard of Gangnam style until about 5 minutes ago. But when the word appeared 3 times in a quick scan of Google news -- something about lifeguards, something about Britney Spears and Ellen -- I had to check it out.

Quick update, for the uninformed and un-hip, like me. Gangnam Style is a song, video and dance by Korean rapper Psy. Britney Spears, former teen pop queen and current X Factor judge, tweeted something about wanting to learn the dance, and talk show host and dance fanatic Ellen DeGeneres was all too happy to make it happen.

What does that have to do with lifeguards, work ethics, and Blogging 'Bout Boys?

Well, this: In California, a bunch of lifeguards decided to make a parody Gangnam Style video. They wore their work uniforms and recorded the video at work (but after work hours). Then they uploaded it to YouTube. And Facebook. Then, they got fired.

Apparently, the Internet and the entire world are blowing up over this supposed injustice. But I happen to think that 1) the terminations were justified, at least from what I'm reading and 2) this incident is a perfect opportunity to discuss appropriate work ethics with our sons.

I get it: Gangnam style is all the rage, parody videos are all over the place, and the lifeguards wanted to be part of the action. But what part of not-OK-for-work do they not understand?

Using your place of employment as a prop is not generally OK, unless you've obtained specific permission, and the sooner these kids (and ours) learn that, the better.

Our kids may be growing up in a culture that frequently blurs the line between personal and professional behavior, between private and public. But that doesn't mean anything goes. That means that we, as parents, need to double-down and give our kids some honest talk about what's acceptable and what's not.

Let's face it: our kids are growing up in a culture that bestows popularity on the basis of clicks. Like him or hate him, our kids all know about Justin Bieber, and they almost all secretly harbor the hope of someday starring in their very own viral video.

But...the real world still exists too, and our kids need to understand that employee handbooks still apply in the Age of the Internet. What gets me most about the story is that the lifeguards seem incredulous at what has happened as a result of their video. A Yahoo news story says that, "...most of all, they...are baffled over why they would be fired for doing something fun that they believed would bring positive attention to the aquatic center."

They, apparently, don't understand that concept of "at-will employment," which means that one can be fired at almost anytime for almost anything. They further don't understand why their employer would be unhappy to see that they were using city facilities in an unauthorized manner, after hours, in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with their employment.

So I guess we, parents of today's Digital Natives, need to be explicit about workplace ethics. This is what I hope to teach my children:

1. Maintain professional standards and behavior at work. When at work, in uniform, or even just talking about your job after hours, always remember that you are a reflection of your company or employer. 
2. Follow the rules. If the Employee Handbook states that uniforms may only be worn at work, while working, only wear the uniform at work, while working. If you have questions or concerns about rules of conduct at work, ask your boss or someone in Human Resources.
3. If you think you have a great and fantastic idea for promoting your company, doing business, etc., discuss it with your boss FIRST. The lifeguards are right: an edgy and creative video may have increased business and/or brought positive attention to the aquatic center. But there's a right way and wrong way to do things. If you're not the boss, it's not your call. Take your good ideas up the chain of command, or go work for yourself.
4. Assume that anything you put online will be seen by everyone. Think HARD before putting anything online! You can restrict your Facebook settings all you want, but once a picture or video goes online, it's very, very hard to control. Assume that your grandparents, your girlfriend, your future kids and all potential future employers will see everything you've ever posted online. If it's nothing you'd want your kids (or future boss) to see, keep it offline.
5. Popularity and clicks don't really matter. As a professional writer, I understand the importance of cultivating and maintaining a digital presence. I'm told, at every single professional conference I attend, that unless I have followers and an audience, I may as well kiss my dream of publishing a book good-bye. But, while an audience is important, so is treating people nicely, and proving that you're easy to work with. Really, bosses (and editors) want employees (and writers) who play well with others. In the end, the number of views your video or website gets is not nearly an important as how you treat others. Treating people with respect and consideration, completing work on time and working together to achieve goals will earn you far more personal and professional respect than a silly video. Even in 2012.

What are you teaching your kids about work ethics in the 21st century? Do you think the city was right to fire the lifeguards, or do you think the terminations were extreme? 

Work-Life Balance: Time for Solutions!



Work on one side, kids on the other?
Illustration by winnifred xoxo via Flickr

 The issue of balance is in the news again.

Anne-Marie Slaughter's Atlantic article, Why Women Still Can't Have It All, jump-started the conversation. Other moms, bloggers and commentators have been adding on since. (I particularly love Joanna Weiss's column, Work-Life Balance: Some Helpful Tips From the Elite. Because, you know, it never occurred to me that a fishmonger who delivers was the answer to all my problems.)

Like every other American mom, I have some thoughts on work-life balance. And my thoughts are this:

Time matters. A parent who spends 12 hours a day away from home, 5 or 6 days a week, will not have the same relationship with their child as a parent who is home with that child those same 12 hours a day. Relationships -- romantic, parental or otherwise -- are nurtured by spending time with each other.

The concept of quality vs. quantity time is a crock of coo-coo poo. Sure, it's important to spend time interacting with your kids, vs. simply existing with them. So if you only have an hour a day with them, it's probably better to spend that time playing a game together than scrubbing the dishes while they play X-box in the next room. But relationships truly grow when people spend unstructured time together. Want to get to know your kids? Spend a snow day with them. Take them on a cross-country camping trip. Spend a year homeschooling them. When you're with your kids, day in and day out, you develop an understanding of their thoughts, ideas and preferences that you simply can't get from weekend check-ins.

That's not to say that you have to be an unemployed, at-home parent to be a good parent. I know a ton of good parents, both employed and unemployed, at-home and at-work. But every single great parent I know spent a significant amount of time with their children at one point or another. Co-incidence? I think not.

Social support would help. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Our society talks a good deal about parenting as "the most important job in the world," but does little to support actual parents in the act of parenting.

In our society, the decision to work outside of the home or to stay home with children is viewed as a private decision, one that should be made and handled within the family unit. Unlike moms and dads in many other countries around the world, American parents can only take time off from work if they're economically able to do so. If they decide to stay home, they not only forgo income, but also potential retirement income.  (Wanna see a bunch of zeroes? Look at the Social Security statement of a woman who's spent some time at home raising kids.)

If one or both parents decides to work, whether for economic need or personal fulfillment, the family is expected to handle the messy issue of childcare all alone. To date, our society doesn't seem to believe that it has a vested interest in the care of these children and families.

Yet, when kids get out of hand (middle schoolers on the bus, I'm looking at you!), we automatically ask, "Where are the parents?"  We don't seem to recognize that we've created an impossible situation for all parents.

Other countries provide generous maternal and paternal leave. Financial stipends to parents who stay home to care for children. Universal access to high-quality childcare. Those kinds of things could make a difference -- for parents, for kids and for our country -- yet we're loathe to fund them. Too socialist-like, we're told. Too expensive. So we leave our families to fend for themselves. Instead of having serious discussions about the value of parenting, we let individuals figure out their own convoluted solutions to the problem of "having it all." We let our families figure out how to blend work and home, while placing value almost exclusively on adult achievement outside of the home. We warehouse our children in childcare centers and schools and camps, treat them as obstacles to achievement, and wonder why our children are doing so poorly in school and in life.


I think it's high-time for parents to stop debating work-life balance, and to start demanding some real solutions. Too many parents (moms, especially) are wasting time blaming themselves for their supposed inability to gracefully juggle work, home and family. They consider themselves flawed, weak human beings because they haven't figured "it" out yet. But guess what? The problem isn't that you're weak or unorganized or not sufficiently dedicated. The problem is that our society has placed you in an impossible position.

Let's stop heaping the blame on ourselves or others, and start looking for solutions instead.

Best of the Blogs

WAT Book Club Four Great Books for Boys. Full disclosure: I used to write for an editor who is now part of the We Are Teachers (WAT) team. But that's now why I'm recommending this blog post. I'm recommending this post because I'm always interested in seeing great book suggestions for boys -- and I'm particularly enthusiastic about this post because it introduces four books I'd never heard of. (For the record, The Achilles Effect is not so keen on "Books for Boys" lists. You can be sure that we'll talk cover that topic in my upcoming author Q & A!)

Dictators with Mommy Issues. You know I'm a fan of Kate Stone Lombardi, and that I loved her book, The Mama's Boy Myth. The last lines of this post, though, are just precious:

Let's see....Stalin and his mother were savagely beaten by his alcoholic father. She fought the father to try to keep her son in school. Yup, must have been that close relationship with him mom that made Stalin the monster he was. 

My Son Looks Like a Girl. So What? I've been thinking a lot of gender lately, and the messages we send our boys about what's OK and what's not. So Catherine Newman's post about her 12-year-old son's long, pink-dipped hair caught my attention. Really, what does hair matter anyway? Isn't it what are kids are inside that matters?

My Vote of Dweebiest Superintendent of the Week. According to Lenore Skenazy, five high school seniors in Indiana decorated the interior of their school with post-it notes. (With inside adult assistance.) The kids were suspended. The custodian lost his job. Actually, a total of 67 kids were suspended. Did the superintendent might the right call? Or do you agree with Skenazy? Why?

 Integrating Tech Tools Into Learning. Shameless self-promotion: This is a blog post I wrote for onlineschools.com. But I have a feeling that some of you may be interested in fun and educational tech tools as well.

How to Work From Home and Homeschool. Yeah, this one is mine too. ;)

Did you see any blog posts that caught your eye this week? Share a link below!

Guest Blogger: 5 Reasons Boys Love Gardens

Please join me in welcoming guest blogger Nancy Mann Jackson! Nancy is a freelance writer who gardens with her husband and two young sons in Florence, Ala. She blogs about gardening, harvesting, cooking and preserving with kids in tow at GrowingFoodandKids.com.

Five reasons boys love gardens

Summer may be over, but there’s still plenty of time left to play outside. And gardening can be one of the best ways to get boys engaged in outdoor play that also teaches valuable lessons about nutrition, the environment, and reaping the benefits of hard work. And the best part is that while gardening is hard work, most boys hardly notice it because playing in the garden is also lots of fun. Here are five things boys love about gardening:

1. Critters. Boys are known for bringing home creepy-crawlies, and gardens are chock-full of critters of all sizes. This year in our garden, we’ve spotted ladybugs, spiders, raccoons, even a deer. My boys never tire of searching for and catching crawling things, or imagining which animals left each paw/hoof/claw print in the soil.

2. Dirt. Like macaroni and cheese, boys and dirt just go together. And a garden has plenty of the brown stuff. We sometimes take sand buckets and shovels to the garden and let our two-year-old play in the dirt while we plant, weed or harvest, and he loves it. My mom used to say when our bathwater turned brown, she knew we’d had a fun day — and after spending time in the garden, my boys’ bathwater is never clear.

3. Destruction. Last week before school started back, I was reflecting on the summer with my four-year-old and asked him what he liked best about helping in the garden this summer. I’m not sure what I expected to hear ("watching our seeds grow into delicious food" would have worked), but I was surprised to hear him say, "whacking down all the corn stalks after the corn was gone." What boy doesn’t love a little destruction? And in a garden, you get to tear everything up and start all over again every year (or twice a year, if you plant in the fall and the spring).

4. Food. If you have boys, you know they like to eat. And nowhere will you find as much fresh, nutritious, delicious food as in a vegetable garden. My four-year-old loves to eat cherry tomatoes right off the vine, and just-picked squash, corn, and peppers also make great snacks in the garden (as long as you haven’t used harmful pesticides). Even if your boys don’t eat the garden’s bounty right there in the dirt, they’re likely to enjoy cooking and eating the veggies they’ve helped grow.

5. Time. As with most family activities, the best thing about gardening together is the "together" part. And because most young boys can’t grow a garden by themselves, time spent in the garden is time spent with an adult he cares about. My boys love playing with each other or with other kids, kicking a ball or digging in the sandbox, but getting out in the garden seems to be a special treat because the whole family’s getting dirty with them.

Photo credit: Nancy Mann Jackson

Tool Safety

After my First Day of School post the other day, Christine at Origami Mommy asked if I had any tips for teaching boys how to use hacksaws safely. She brings up a very good point.

Normally, young children aren't given tools to use. Plastic tools? Maybe. A real life, straight-from-Home-Depot hacksaw? Not so such.

But when Daddy stopped to pick up the hacksaws, his thinking was right on. He knows our boys, and he knew that as soon as the boys saw the tubes, their creativity would kick in. He knew that sooner or later, the boys would ask, "Can we use the knives?"

He also knows that one of the first rules of tool safety is to Use the right tool for the job. Kitchen knives are designed to chop celery and slice bread, not hack through cardboard tubes.

So he picked up the saws, which are lightweight and feature very finely-toothed blades. If handled properly, the blades will cut, but they're not so sharp as to deliver a cut at just a touch. The saws also have study handles which keep little hands far away from the cutting field.

I also implemented the second rule of tool safety: Supervise children using tools. Young children need to be taught how to use tools safely (which brings up rule #3: Model proper tool use.). Then, they need direct supervision as they learn to handle the tool on their own. It's not enough to toss your son and hammer and say, "Here, use this." First, you must show him how to hold the hammer and, more importantly, how to hold the nail. Then you watch and guide and tweak as needed. Only when you feel confident in his abilities do you step away -- and even then, it's best to remain in reach.

We also talked about rule #4: Store and carry tools safely. My kids know that screwdrivers must be carried point down, and we talk constantly about the need to put tools away after the project is completed. I'll be honest, though: My boys aren't so good at this rule. They left the hacksaws laying on the floor ("But Mom, I was going to use that again! I swear!") and their three-year-old brother picked one up -- and dismantled the saw before I knew what happened. An engineering project for him, but a slightly dangerous one he had no business undertaking.

For more information about kids and tools safety, check out this article from This Old House.

Mr. Personality

My eleven-year-old son came down from his bath last night and announced that he wanted to take a personality test.

He'd just finished reading Trouble Don't Last, an award-winning book about a young slave escaping to freedom on the Underground Railroad. The book, he said, got him thinking about the question, "Who am I?"

We headed to the computer (never mind that it was past 10 pm), where I typed in "myers briggs online personality test." I'd done a Myers-Brigss test years ago (I'm an INFJ, BTW) and was amazed by how well it captured my personality. I wasn't sure how well an online test would work, or if the test would be accurate with an eleven-year-old boy, but I figured what the heck?

Boy #1 was fascinated. He eagerly answered the questions, pausing occasionally to ask for my input. Seventy-two questions later, we pressed "Score It" -- and learned that Boy #1 is an ENFP.

The descriptions were dead on. An ENFP is an extremly outgoing, interesting, vivacious person. ENFPs feel things deeply and have a knack for sensing the emotional temperature in any room. (I've said this about Boy #1 forever!) They're big picture learners and often ponder the deep questions of life. Among other things, they often make excellent salespeople, politicians and actors.

Well.

If I was stunned at how accurately the test nailed his personality, Boy #1 was downright giddy. For the first time in his life, he saw in black-and-white that he is not some kook, some strange kid who's just messed up and confused. He saw that all these things he thinks are "wrong" or "different" about him are simply personality traits -- personality traits that add up to a pretty great person.

He saw his intensity not as a liability, but as part of who he is. He saw his tendency to dream about the future as fully typical of his personality, not as an abnormality.

His personality type is rare; only about 2-3 % of the population are ENFP. Even that made him feel better. No wonder he doesn't know many kids "like him!"

It was a beautiful, wonderful evening. My son learned more about himself, my gut feelings about my son were confirmed and we learned more about how and why different people get along (or not).

I never would have thought of administering a personality test to my eleven-year-old, but I'm so glad I did. Why don't you try it with your own boys? Let me know what you find out!

Guest Post: How Do You Conquer Fear?

Today's blogger, Amy Rauch Neilson, is another writer I met during the May blogathon. Although we'd never met before, we're connected on a genetic level: Amy and I are both carriers of genetic mutations known as the "breast cancer genes."

On a happier note, we're also both moms of boys. Today, Amy blogs about an universal concern.

In some ways, women in the new Millenium have the best of both worlds – the option to choose both motherhood and a career. And for that, I am very grateful to the women who came before me, who fought for the opportunities that have woven themselves so beautifully into our modern lives.

Or have they?

I’m the mother of a three-year-old boy, Theodore. We call him Theo for short. Theodore is not only named after my late father – one amazing man – but the name means “gift of God.” It was perfect in both regards for our new little one.

When Theo was six months old, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. The doctor’s initial diagnosis was Stage 3 – with five years or less to live. My husband and I lived in complete terror for six very long weeks, believing that the diagnosis was correct – until, thank God, further testing showed that I was not a Stage 3, but a Stage 1 – with a 99 percent chance of full recovery. But even with that sunny prognosis, I find myself battling with fear and separation anxiety when it comes to my son. So, this is my question:

How do you conquer fear?

I know that even if I hadn’t faced a breast cancer diagnosis and subsequent treatment such a short time after Theo’s birth, that there would still be anxiety. Perhaps not with such intensity. But I know myself. It would still be there.

I want to be two places at once. I love what I do – I’m a freelance writer and editor. I also blog on the topic of genetic breast cancer (http://itsinthegenes.wordpress.com/). And, I’m putting the finishing touches on a memoir – A Matter of Life or Breasts – the story of the four generations of women in my family who have been identified as carriers of the BRCA 1 (Breast Cancer) gene.

And even if I didn’t love what I do – I’d still need to do it, as my financial contribution to our household isn’t optional at this point.

But, the other part of me wants to be with Theo – all the time. My cousin – the mother of three and an incredibly wise woman – says if I do that, I’ll smother him. And I know she’s right. So, I don’t. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting to.

I’m an incredibly lucky woman. The type of work I do not only allows me to keep a less-than-full-time schedule, but it gives me lots of flexibility. So, in my busiest months, Theo is away from me three full days a week – but we have one-on-one time every Tuesday and Thursday, plus as a family on the weekends.

That’s a lot of “together” time. Yet, I sometimes still wonder if I’m doing the right thing. Will studies published a decade from now determine that the true-blue stay-at-home mom is best when it comes to raising children? Would it be better for him if I was home with him all the time? Or is a little time apart good for both of us? In the moments when I’m filled with the greatest uncertainty, I hear Dr. Laura Schlessinger’s voice echoing in my head – telling her millions of listeners that, hands down, mothers should stay home with their children ‘til their first day of Kindergarten.

My shrink recently offered me this advice: “You can’t live in his skin,” she said. “You’ve got to let him have his own life experiences.”

I know that to be true. And I think that it will get easier as he gets older and I see him as needing me less. At least, I think that will be the case – I won’t truly know ‘til I get there.

But in the meantime, I’m at this crossroads. And though I try to deal with fear and separation anxiety in a rational, reasonable way, it’s not easy.

Are there any other mothers out there who feel this constant tug – this strong desire to be two places at once, who wish they were two people instead of just one? If so, how do you deal with it? And what’s your take on working vs. being a stay-at-home Mom?

Snapshot Sunday: Painting the Picnic Table

Picking Stones

Yesterday we picked stones.

If you're from around here -- rural southeastern Wisconsin -- you probably know what I mean. If not, well, you're lucky.

Picking stones might sound like a Ms. Frizzle-esque homeschool/learning type field trip, where we all scurry to the rock field for a chance to pick our own rock specimens. And it is. For the first half hour. After that, it's just plain, back-breaking work.

Picking stones, for the uninitiated, is the highly untechnical yet oh-so-essential act of removing stones from a field. Despite the fact that rock picking machines were invented years ago, they're still not very efficient. So to prevent damage to farm machines, rocks much be removed -- by hand -- from the fields.

It's a job I first did as a kid. My dad bought a farm when I was about six, and I'll never forget the fun my brothers and I had the first time we went stone picking. I'd always loved rocks, and the fact that there were all these wonderful specimens, just beneath my feet, was amazing!

Then I realized how big the field was, and how many rocks there were. Amazing quickly became overwhelming, then downright tedious. Although, on the bright side, I credit stone picking (and my summers at the canning factory) for my decision to go to college. After experiencing hard physical labor in the sun, I was sure there had to be a better way to make a living.

Well, yesterday, 30-odd years, one bachelor's degree, two professional careers and four kids later, I picked stones again. (And was quickly thankful that I had, indeed, graduated from college.) My husband raises winter wheat and soybeans on some rented land, and while even he, the consummate farmer, admits that rock picking is horrible, tedious work, it has to be done. It's simply part of what must be done to bring in a good crop.

Which made me think...Rock picking is a lot like mothering. Motherhood involved A LOT of tedious, back breaking, not-exactly glamourous jobs. And some of them -- like changing your newborn's teeny-weeny diapers -- are even cute at first. But after awhile (think three years and about 8000 dirty diapers later), the appeal wears off and it's work. Essential work, but work all the same.

We want the gorgeous, thriving green crop -- happy, well-adjusted, confident children who grow into wonderful, contributing adults. But to get them there, we have to pick some rocks. Sometimes that means saying, "Sit down while you eat!" a million times in the course of one meal; sometimes it means putting your two-year-old in timeout after he throws a tractor at his brother's head. Sometimes it means doing the really hard of work: looking deep inside and changing our own beliefs and behaviors.

Whatever rocks you must pick, I encourage you to hang in there. It's tedious, it's back breaking, but the results are worth it. And hey -- at the very least, I guarantee you'll get stronger.

Making Maple Syrup, Part 2

Maple sugar season is about so much more than maple syrup. More, even, than family camraderie.

Tapping maple trees and turning the sap into syrup is an education all of its own. There's science: how and why the trees drip; boiling, evaporation and concentration. There's history: we talk about Native Americans, pioneers and our own ancestors. There's math: how many gallons of sap make a gallon of syrup, the weight of a full tank, how much to charge for a full bottle, etc. And there's literature: Little House on the Prairie, anyone?

And then there are all the unexpected moments. Yesterday, for instance, we saw and heard both a woodpecker and a pair of sandhill cranes. We pryed fungus off a log and saw what it did to the wood beneath.

But more than that, even, is the fact that maple sugar season is an opportunity for our boys to contribute positively to the welfare of our family.

Some time ago, I read about the importance of work to boys. Boys, like their adult counterparts, like to feel useful. They like to challenge their skills and they like to those skills for the benefit of others.

My boys, like most American boys, are expected to help around the house. They pick up toys, put away their dirty dishes, unload the dishwasher and help with vaccuuming and dusting. But that's not the kind of work boys crave. They crave down and dirty physical work.

When we make maple syrup, my older boys get to help cut and haul wood. The younger boys unload wood from the trailer and hand it to their father as he stokes the fire. The older boys help drill holes, and even the young ones can pound in taps.

Together, we assemble and hang the bags, and together, we head out to collect the sap. At 8, 6 and 3, my three younger boys are too heavy to lift the bags of sap, but at 11, my oldest is already able to carry and unload all but the fullest bags.

For a few precious weeks in the Spring, we have the opportunity to work as a family, and my boys -- all four of them -- knew that their work is valued, important and appreciated.

Guest Post: Sandra Dodd!

We have a real treat today! If you're a homeschooler, particularly of the unschooling variety, you may have already heard of Sandra Dodd. Sandra is the mother of three wonderful children who have never gone to school; her philosophy of life and learning involves joy and connection and can help bring peace and happiness to any family. Here, she blogs about helping her sons find their place in the world.

I have two sons who never went to school, who are now 22 and 20 years old. They are Kirby, who works for Blizzard, Entertainment in Austin, and Marty, who is still at home, has a 23 year old girlfriend, a job at a Persian restaurant, and a Jeep Wrangler he chose and is paying for himself. (They have a sister who's 17, too, but this is about boys, so I'm leaving her out of this.)

From the time Kirby was born, we gave him choices. We offered him two or more foods, let him sleep where he was comfortable, let him choose his clothes, let him veto the music in the car if he didn't like it. When there were two boys, they were Sesame Street fans, and played Ninja Turtles and Lego and ran around in costumes in the back yard and at the park with other La Leche League kids, and then other unschoolers.

They got bigger every day, as did their options. Kirby studied karate for many years, and eventually taught the children's classes at the dojo. Marty tried karate, but decided to go to ice hockey instead, for a while, and ended up roller blading and being very involved in the Society for Creative Anachronism. We gave them rides and entry fees and equipment and encouragement.

At home, we watched movies, played games, sang, built things and talked about life and fantasies and the world. They found music and movies the rest of us wouldn't have known about. They hung around collectible card shops and gaming stores. We went to medieval-themed campouts and feasts.

Time flies when so much is going on, and they were getting tall, and a little hairy. When Kirby turned 14 he was offered a real job in a gaming shop, running the Pokemon League from 8:00 to noon every Saturday. Gradually they gave him more hours and responsibility. The day he turned 16, they gave him a key to the store. Before 16, the insurance wouldn't have covered him being there alone. He worked in that store for five years.

When Marty was 15, he was offered a job working for a bootmaker, doing boots and pouches for historical re-enactment groups. When he was 17, he worked full-time in a grocery store, walking distance from our house. I loved going shopping and hearing the checkers and other workers say, "Oh! You're Marty's mom. We *love* Marty!"

We weren't doing things with the thought of getting our kids jobs. What got them jobs was that they were out and about, interested, interesting and helpful. When Kirby was twelve and thirteen, he used to help pick the chairs up after the Pokemon tournaments, and he was good at understanding rules, and was able to make other kids feel better and have more fun. He would help vacuum the shop, and help fold the monthly schedules for mailing out. When Marty was in his early teens, he would help people willingly and cheerfully at our many campouts, and at tournaments in town. He smiled and he was happy to be there.

I didn't know that just being good guys with free time could lead to jobs, but it did. Looking back, I think the best advice I can give parents of boys who are concerned that they might not become men is this: Consider them to be whole, no matter how old they are. Treat them with respect and find ways for them to be around as many people and situations as you can, and whenever possible let them make choices about how long to be out and when to go home; what to attempt and what to stall off on; what to start and what to quit.

A rich and busy life can lead to unexpected benefits, and even if nothing remarkable happens, you will have had a rich and busy life with your sons. Few parents have that. Few men grew up in the warmth of smiles and approval and opportunities to explore or to stay home.

Sometimes people ask how homeschooled children will move out into the world. Our children were never anywhere but in the world. They were present with us as much as they wanted to be. We let them be other places, without us, when they wanted to be. The world was always all around them, and they were always in their place in the world.