Fair Play

My sister, raised in the same war zone I came up in, vowed that her children would not grow up to be fearful people.   Her conscious goal was to instill confidence and agency in them.  They both seem to be doing fine in that regard.

She expressed the great terror she felt recently blinking at the prestigious job offered to her daughter through the lens of learned maternal fear.  She reported that her “fear-based” worldview left her paralyzed, nauseated, blinded to the many auspicious facts about this prestigious job offer.  I reminded her of her goal with her kids and how it seems to have worked out well.   I predicted her daughter would do fine in that 100 year-old Florida magnet school with the award winning jazz band and debating team, that they wouldn’t have offered her the job if they didn’t intend for her to succeed.

“I want to thank you so much for what you said the the other day.  I can’t tell you how much it meant to me.”   I told her that anyone looking at the facts, and knowing her, could have said the same.  Apparently nobody did.  I was glad my comment made her feel good.

We commiserated about how aggravating, and gallingly common, it is not to have even a cursory response to something we’d put time and effort into.

“I don’t know how you can continue to do what you are doing, with no pay and, especially, with no appreciation for the hard work you do,” she told me sympathetically, before promising to look over the last few things I sent her, particularly the curriculum, and give me some feedback.

“I have a day off tomorrow and I’ll check gmail and look at what you sent me, and I’ll send you my two cents,” she said.

That’s what she said, a couple of days ago.

 

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