3 Things the World Cup Has Taught Me About Raising Boys

So, I'm going to admit that I am kind of a fair weather soccer fan. Or at least I used to be. We have always been a football (not futbol) family. I am an avid (sometimes rabid) watcher of NCAA and NFL football. My boys played football. I was a crazy football mom. But, that, friends, was life in 'Murica.

Costa Rica has been turning us. Slowly. Until now. I do believe what started out as a bit half-hearted has been fully converted by this World Cup and Costa Rica's historic performance. And the ensuing mania in our right-now country which we have enjoyed immensely.

But as I have been watching these matches (see that, using proper lingo and all) closely, I have learned a thing or two. Or three. They have nothing to do with soccer. They are lessons from the men on the field. And they are showing me a thing or two about how to raise little men.

Here are three take-aways on raising boys I have learned from the watching the first round of World Cup play:

From the players: If something is worth doing, it is worth doing with excellence. Appearance is a key aspect of excellence. You guys, these men are not playing a game out there. They are sacrificing life and limb in the pursuit of excellence. They have form. They have technique. They have heart. They have training. They have teamwork. All things any mom of boys would easily list as key aspects of character that must be formed in boys for them to become men of honor and know success. But they have other things too, these men of excellence. They have hair. And tattoos. And neon cleats. And these things are important. Apparently. whether you choose to sport long Latin curls, mounds of blonde dread locks, or a shiny bald noggin has something to do with the way you are perceived by team mates, coaches, and opponents. Apparently too, the brightness of shoes affects ow hard and how accurate you can kick the ball. Or at least how hard you think you can kick the ball. For a long time, my house was filled boys who saw underwear and cowboy boots as high fashion. Who liked to run each other's buzz cuts for fun. Suddenly, these boy-men are very concerned about brands of shoes and hair gel and who is going to cut their hair and whether that person is capable of making their bangs flip just right. They each have a favored color scheme and style. I forget whose is whose. I can't keep up with brands of gel and the preferred scent of Axe body spray. And I was kind of blowing them off with a "what does it all matter, you're boys" attitude. Until World Cup. Now I know it matters. Very much. I am not quite sure what it is these boy-men will pursue excellence at, but I know it will matter that they appear to already be excellent at it. To them and to the people around them. We might not be rushing out to buy neon cleats just yet, but I will be a bit more cheerful about restocking the hair gel and Axe supply now.

From the coaches: Just because you have to wear a suit to work, it doesn't mean you can't be passionate about what you do. You guys, soccer coaches wear suits. On the field. During the game. And they jump and scream and sometimes spit in them. Their ties stick to their sweaty necks and threaten to strangle them. They squat and I fear for what we might all end up seeing with a little deeper bend. But they do their jobs. And they do them with passion. We tend to treat men's careers sometimes like the thing they must do to keep their families from starving to death. The thing that they really hate and so morosely and tragically to keep the light bill paid. The suits they don heroically while they sacrifice their souls for the greater good. This is not my hope for my sons. I want them to be able to support a family, sure. But I also want them to find a means to do it that, while it might require sacrifice (as all good things do), they can love, be passionate about, and be comfortable with. I want their suits to be a sign of pride in the role they play, not a prison sentence. They might not become soccer coaches, but they can certainly get excited enough about whatever it is they are doing that they sweat a little, their cheeks flush and their ties get a little befuddled. As a matter of fact, I think it might be time to practice a little tie tying style around these parts.

From the referees: Boys fight a lot. It doesn't always require your intervention. Boys are competitive. They want to win. At everything. They express themselves physically. They push. They shove. They grab shirts. They break the rules of the game and, sometimes, the rules of common human decency. Sometimes, they can shock with their ability to forget all you have ever taught them about decency. Sometimes, they bite. Often, the counter attack to these ferocious advances is dramatic and involves much flailing, rolling on the ground and fake tears. Sometimes, they try to divert your attention from your wrong by waving their arms wildly while they look askance at you waiting for you to do something. You are not required to intervene. If you stare back stoically, or better yet, just keep running and going about your business, 8 times out of 10, they will miraculously rise from their injuries unscathed and get back in the game. Also, consistency is optional. When you choose to enter the fray and enforce the rules is completely up to you. And everyone respects that. Even if they get in your face and try to tell you otherwise. Also, if you have sons, get yourself some little yellow cards. They apparently have magical powers that stop fighting boys in their tracks. And I think from this point forward in this house, we shall resolve penalties by lining up the offenders and allowing the injured to kick a ball straight at them as hard as possible. Maybe we will need those neon cleats after all.

P.S. If you have not been following my friend Elizabeth's son Michael's coverage of the Cup at USA Today, you are really missing out on half the fun. We will charm you and maybe even make you a bonafide soccer fan.

Why I'm Talking to My Boys About Bringing Back Our Girls (and What I'm Saying)

I have been emotionally invested in the abduction and return of the 234 missing Nigerian school girls since last week. It has occupied my thoughts and my prayers and weighed heavy on my mind.

I have bombarded my Facebook feed and Twitter with links and cries to #BringBackOurGirls. I have talked to my husband about it. I know he is watching because, well, he follows me on social media and so can't get away  from it.

But I realized today as the outcry begins to reach fever pitch that I must talk my boys about these girls. Even though I wish very much that they did not live in a world where girls can be abducted and sold into slavery for $12 for going to school, the fact is they do. And the best chance I have of changing that world, better than any hashtag, is to raise children who do not live in blissful ignorance, children who blush first with shock and then with anger over the injustice of modern day slavery. Children with knowledge and education and passion for the poor and the oppressed of the world.

All of my children happen to be boys. The most poor and oppressed of the world happen to be mostly girls and women. It seems easier to figure out how to discuss this atrocity and initiate a call to action among other girls who can picture themselves in these girls school shoes.

But if we are to raise a generation that triumphs over these evils, and I firmly believe we are capable of doing so, we have to stop calling these issues "women's issues" and make them "human issues", "justice issues", "the right thing to do" for all of humanity.

I believe my sons could be part of the solution to the injustices humanity faces. I believe they know girls who are part of those solutions too. I want to ensure they grow into men who believe that with every fiber of conviction they have. I want them to be men who will step up when it is their turn in the ring and have the education and the passion to deliver the knock out punch to injustice. And I want them to be men who will lean over the ropes in the corner, brows beaded with sweat and voices hoarse with overuse from cheering on the women in the ring as they take their turn to strike back at injustice.

For that to happen, I must start now, must build a little fire in their guts to fight injustice and to not be afraid of the reality that most of the world's injustices are commited against women and girls, that girls are the most oppressed people group on the planet. I want them to know it is not a shame to them as men and they do not have to shuffle awkwardly away from that reality. That they can be men who lean into that and begin to change that reality just by being willing to discuss it, sit with it, claim it as their problem.

And I want them to learn to listen to women and the way these realities affect them. To hear the ache of the hearts of women they love and respect, the cries of the mothers, and desperation of the girls. And to not be afraid of the emotion of it all. To take it and hold it in cupped hands and guard it well. And let it be the spark that lights them up to defend their sisters.

I have a house full of boy children. But I want to be sure they know they are not sister-less. And that their sisters, they need them. And this world needs them. And this world needs their sisters too. And that is why they must care about bringing them back. That is why they must care that women are set free. That is why they must care that girls get to go to school.

Because they live and will live in world that is made whole by the women who walk it with them. And their silenced voices and locked away lives leave half the sky missing. And I want my boys to see the whole sky. And love it with all their hearts.

So this is the essence of what I am sharing with them today:

1. The bare facts: 

              234 girls missing
              16-18 years old
              stolen from school in the middle of the night
              why the girls lived at school:

            Families had sent their girls to the rural school in Chibok for a desperately needed education. The northeastern town is part of Borno state, where 72% of primary-age children never attended school, according to the U.S. Embassy in Nigeria.

              in rural northern Nigeria
              by terrorists oppsoed to girls seeking an education
              taken to another country
              being sold for $12 a piece
 

2. Some perspective:
           

              more girls than the number of passengers on Malaysia Airlines Flight 370

              ten classrooms full of girls (based on US average of 23 kids in a classroom)

              families had invented approximately $1200 in these girls' education (based on $100 a year estimate for government school fees and supplies for 12 years)

              In a country where more than half than the people live on less $2 a day that is an investment                 of 1/3 of a family's income

              These girls were sitting for their final exams, just months away from significantly contributing                 to the income of their families

              Explain the impact the fear will have on other families and girls and the domino effect of                       thousands of girls afraid to go to school.


         
3. Lack of and late response of media

            Just doing the best I can to describe this in my own words to them and touching a little on the reality               of institutional racism and that the news media markets to an audience and covers what viewers will               watch. We'll have a conversation about what that says about the perspective of most viewers in                     developed nations.

4. Lack of government and world response:

            Again, doing what I can in my own words here. My kids have lived in developing nations. They are               well aware of how lack of infrastructure affects efficieny and ho long-standing cultural norms affect                 people in those nations. They are also pretty aware of the vulnerability of the poor to violence and                 the lack of protection afforded them. We'll just talk about how all this contributes to the reasons why             no real plan of action to locate the girls has yet been developed and instituted. I will ask them their                 ideas on what they would do if they were in political power in this situation.

5. And lastly, what they can do:

•             Pray...for the girls, for their families. But also for their captors and the government officials                   who can rescue them. I might share Sarah Bessey's beautiful post with them.
•             Read them the story of the Good Shepherd (timely since it will be Good Shepherd Sunday in               the Church this weekend) and ask them to think about why it is our responsibility to act as we             are able on behalf of these girls. How would the shepherd who went after the one lost sheep               want us to respond?
•             Have them sign the Change.org petition and write their note in their own words ( I am not sure             if there is an age for the petition, but I will have them to it anyway for the chance to articulate               their "why" response)
•             Introduce them to a few amazing online friends who are modern day freedom fighters and                   abolitionists