When Chris stood on the long board, the Pacific Ocean carrying him towards the beach, I couldn’t have been more proud. I think I was more excited for him than I would’ve been for myself surfing for the first time. I was his trip leader and his SCUBA instructor for a three-week trip in Baja, Mexico.
When my daughter Harper nailed (semi-nailed let’s be honest) her dance recital routine, I damn near exploded with joy.
When my wife Annie was competing in a CrossFit competition, and I was at home watching the kids, I followed the social media reports every second. I could’ve done a happy dance when I saw that she won, but I was putting Harper to bed.
The common questions asked when we talk about how to have a fair supply chain include: What laws can governments pass to protect workers? What kind of inspections should brands do? What are the responsibilities of factories, retailers, and consumers?
But one very important question is left out: How do all of the stakeholders work to empower the laborers themselves to have a voice?
One of the most positive answer to that solution is LaborLink. LaborLink was started by Good World Solutions, “a non-profit social enterprise with a vision that every worker should have a free and anonymous channel to report directly to decision-makers about their working conditions, opinions and needs.” That channel is something most farmers and factory workers have already, they’re mobile phone.
That’s why I hate the lottery. The lottery preys upon those most in need of hope, those who can least afford the $2 ticket. It dangles millions of dollars like a carrot on the end of an unreachable stick of hope.
Hope is good. When I write and when I live an experience regardless of how tough or how full of despair the story or situation, I always look for the hope. But false hope is exhausting. Too much of it can make you cold and callous.
“People spent more money playing the lottery last year than on books, video games, and tickets for movies and sporting events combined,” writes Derek Thomspon in Lotteries: America’s $70 Billion Shame…
A few months after Harper was born I wrote a piece for WorldHum titled Adventure Dad. Here’s an excerpt:
I can’t remember where I read it (if you know, please tell me), but one of my favorite travel stories was written by a father who takes his 3-year-old canoeing down the creek that runs through their backyard. There are no rapids, no danger other than a bee or two, no foreign culture to be explored, no site that most of us don’t ignore each day. Things like squirrels, trash on the bank, and a praying mantis were grand discoveries. Both father and child had a blast.
I like this story because it challenged what I previously thought about adventure. Adventure isn’t an…
Every night, I turn off the TV, get off the couch, wake up my wife, and shut off the lights. I find that it’s easier to see if the deadbolts are in place by shining my phone’s light at them in a dark room. I check the door to the garage, front door, and porch. All locked.
This might seem like a normal routine of a man ensuring the security of his family from unwanted visitors in the night. But I don’t make sure the doors are locked to keep people out; I make sure they are locked to keep one person in . . . my son Griffin.
Griffin, 4, has autism and a deep curiosity to explore places where he shouldn’t…
Each month I chat with folks I work out with at my CrossFit gym and share our chat on the gym’s blog. I always love having an excuse just to sit and listen to someone and to learn from their journey.
It’s important to be reminded that every single person has a story. This month I talked with Libby Hobson who just became a mom and who showed me that balloon twisting is an art. Her story made me reflect on randomness of our lives and the importance of connecting with people no matter where we end up.
Here’s how I ended her story:
Libby’s story reminded me of a quote that gets thrown around a lot by basketball coaches and players. Here’s IU coach Tom Crean with a recent version:
Harper wanted to do a review of Star Wars: The Force Awakens on our YouTube channel. Actually I think she wanted to say “spoiler alert” a bunch because she just learned what the phrase means and it makes her feel like part of the zeitgeist.
So if you ever wanted to get your movie reviews from a 6-year-old, here you go…
There’s a story behind every Christmas card photo. This is ours…
Our car looks like something Santa would drive. It has a red body, capped with a white top. Soon that white top will have a green tree strapped to it. At least that’s the plan. We’re on our our annual trip to the Christmas tree farm where we also hope to get the perfect family picture for our Christmas card.
I tune the radio to the Christmas channel. I’ve become that cheesy Chevy Chase dad who tries too hard to instill a little extra energy into moments in an effort to build childhood memories.
Donald Trump is an idiot, but your friends who “Like” him on Facebook aren’t. At least not all of them . . . probably. At least all of mine aren’t.
It’s easy to find out which of your friends “Like” Trump on Facebook, just type in “Friends who like Donald J. Trump” in the search field at the top.
I have 28 Facebook friends who “Like” Trump. There are some really good folks who I think a lot of. I mean, maybe, they just “Like” his page to keep tabs on him. A “Like” isn’t necessarily an endorsement of all his policies. I’ll listen to Rush Limbaugh from time to time just to see what…
Another mass shooting and I’m left feeling the same–ashamed.
As I wrote about the Syrian refugee crisis, empathy should be our default setting, and it’s where my heart and mind go every time I hear news like that of the mass shooting in San Bernardino or [insert the most recent mass shooting].
What if that were my son, daughter, wife, brother, sister, mom, or dad gunned down simply for showing up to work or to school or to church that day?
My daughter is in first grade and several times a year the school has active shooter drills. They don’t call them that. She just knows to hide in the corner or in the bathroom and be really quiet.
