My granddaughter, Stella, called us. Actually, her parents called us with her on the phone; she’s only four and a half. An older child had taunted her at pre-school. “You’re invisible,” the girl had sneered at my granddaughter. The words stung Stella.
I thought, “And so it begins; kids being mean to kids.”
I almost told Stella that being invisible is not always so bad. Sylvia Plath, the American poet and writer, wrote in her private journal, “Sometimes I long to disappear. To become one with trees. With the rivers. With the stars. I wanted to be where nobody I knew would come.”
I get what Plath is saying. There have been times when I’ve wanted to melt into a wall, sit quietly in a corner of the room, or blend in with the trees, usually when people are pushing into my time and space. I might have told Stella she should tell her little annoyer, “Well, thank you, invisible is not so bad; you should try it.”
Other than the fact that such advice would have encouraged Stella to return hurtful words with other hurtful words, I didn’t say that because that’s not the kind of invisible the tormentor meant. She wanted Stella to know she wasn’t important enough to be seen; she wasn’t worthy enough to be acknowledged.
It certainly won’t be the last time another child, teenager, or adult says something intended to make Stella feel less than. It’s part of life. Kids , like adults, say things. The child probably didn’t know what “invisible” meant, only that she wanted Stella to know she was of less importance.
This Sunday is Father’s Day. It’s an important day to honor our father’s and their significance.
And it’s a day for fathers to be mindful that one of a dad’s most important tasks is to make sure their children know they are “seen,” that they matter, and are important.
A father can’t be there all the time, but he can prepare his children for the toxicity of a world bent on pummeling others with flaming words of hurt and hate. One of the best things a dad (or mom) can do to protect a child is to arm the child with the strong armor of self-worth. A dad does well to take the time to recognize a child’s worthiness.
Before I could play football in fourth grade, my older brother, Mark, organized a slew of us pre-fourth-graders in our neighborhood into a sandlot football team. One of his high school football team buddies did the same in his neighborhood, and so they created a rivalry. Naturally, we had a game. Mark and his friend promoted the big event through word of mouth. People lined the street, parking their cars to watch.
We had uniforms: homemade numbered jerseys, shoulder pads and pants, even cleats.
And as a halfback, I scored touchdowns. I imagined my future fourth-grade football coach already drawing up plays with me as his star halfback.
When my dad came home from work later that evening, I declared, “You should see me play, I’m good.”
“You should see me play.”
Dad, tired from a day’s work, only grinned as he made his way to the supper table. And so I wondered.
I was saying, “I’m visible; I matter; please acknowledge my worth.”
But my father did affirm me. Busy as he was, he came to almost all my football, wrestling, and track events. I never doubted him again because he spoke with his actions.
This Father’s Day, let your kids know they matter. Let them know you see them. You value who they are. No matter how few or many kids and grandkids you have, hug them when you can, and tell each one how much you love them for who they are.
And then, if he’s still around, look your dad in the eye, put your arms around him, even if he flinches, draw him close. Then tell him he’s important to you and that you love him. Your sense of self-worth will increase as you affirm his.
Let Dad know you see him, really see him and that he matters to you.
That just may be the best Father’s Day gift you can give your dad and yourself.