Updated: Dec. 26, 2016
Originally Published: Dec. 22, 2016
A classmate of mine was the third contestant to be let go on the third season of that reality show about business, apparently dismissed for “lack of intelligence.” He claimed to be just like the host, only younger and with a more stylish haircut.
The world feels utterly bonkers. How am I supposed to navigate this chaos for my daughters?
It’s winter, yet my mind wanders to summer. I reminisce about sleepaway camp, where you either have too many bathroom breaks or not enough. Trust me, the camp nurse will confirm this. It’s the primary reason kids seek her guidance, as their bodies struggle to process a diet of Lucky Charms, chocolate chip pancakes, chicken nuggets, and green olives. This kind of imbalance isn’t just unhealthy—it’s downright risky.
During these dark days of December, when tea replaces Bug Juice and hearty meals like spinach salad and beef stew come into play, it’s clear that everything still matters. The body can find equilibrium, but the spirit? That’s a different story. Give too little, and everything crumbles; give too much, and you might just break.
My optimism feels threadbare. Making sense of anything is a Herculean task, and it’s tempting to shut my eyes and cover my ears. Every news flash seems to highlight human suffering. There’s the devastation in Aleppo, the warehouse fire in Oakland, the attack at Ohio State University, and the tragic crash of the Chapecoense soccer team. There’s tainted water in Flint, earthquakes near the Fukushima plant, and the battle over Sioux ancestral lands marred by oil pipeline leaks. A billion Yahoo! users recently learned their identities were compromised in a breach that dates back to 2013, and the ivory-billed woodpecker may actually be gone forever. Climate change is no joke—and let’s not even get into that reality show host’s boardroom. I dread going to bed every night, fearing what I’ll find on Twitter in the morning.
Today, Merriam-Webster announced “surreal” as the Word of the Year for 2016. Just this afternoon, the headlines reported Russian cyber-attacks threatening our elections, and moments ago, a truck crashed into a Christmas market in Berlin, leaving nine dead and 50 injured.
How can I process this horror without losing my sanity? I can’t even think about dinner for my girls without picturing barefoot, malnourished kids in Syrian refugee camps. I don’t know how to dial down my empathy; there’s no “just enough” for me.
People are quick to tell me what I should do: Write to this congressperson, donate here, attend that rally, sign this petition, or like this post. But what I really need is to rise and face the day.
My best commitment right now is to hit the snooze button one less time, waking just a few minutes earlier to take deeper breaths and prepare for the work of change. I do this in my classroom from 8 a.m. to 3 p.m., and around our dinner table at night.
Can we agree to open our eyes to this (sur)real world, recognizing that even the smallest acts of hope or kindness matter? My daughters can show me, in their own way, that they understand; they just need to get up the first time I ask and dress themselves. If I see them take initiative, I’ll know improvement is possible. I’ll brew my coffee, toast some waffles, and then we’ll make plans for the day. “It’s so full of promise,” I’ll say with a grin. They’ll believe me because I’m their mom. I’ll strive to believe it too because I must.
And then, I’ll give them a hug.
Waking up each morning is an act of bravery, just as noble as any other. When we all show as much courage as we can muster and commit to giving our best to each other and the day ahead, we can get things done together. Love can be our product, and peace our boardroom.
I’m confident the stocks will soar.