EMPATHY IS ESSENTIAL

This week - I'm confident for the first time in their lives - my two sons watched a man die. It wasn't a cartoon character or a movie actor. It was a real human being, a man named George Floyd. If you find it controversial that I showed a 13 and an 11 year-old such an appalling video, I understand. I found it controversial myself, and I’m the one that did it. It was a hard, confusing, sad 8 ½ minutes we spent witnessing that man’s life get choked away and time together talking about it after. I can assure you I didn’t enjoy the experience, but I don’t regret it either. As the week unfolded, I was simply unable to shake the conviction I felt as a father during this time to lead my children, even into some complicated territory they’ve never been. It was my responsibility to do the hard work that parenting occasionally requires from us, to teach my children some important lessons, and to try and use a senseless tragedy like this one for good.

The events surrounding George Floyd’s death have publicly re-opened wounds that many in our country have been silently suffering from for generations. And while the aftermath of his death has brought issues of race back into my safe, naive, white world again like it has many times before, this time felt different. This time it wasn’t just me I was thinking about. It was my boys, too, both of whom are old enough now to recognize the chaos of our current situation, but still in many ways too young and innocent to understand its context or its meaning. For the first time this week, I realized that it was time to do more than just try and make sense of all this for myself. Now I was responsible for helping my sons try and make sense of it, too.

Trying to explain to them the legacy of injustice in our country and the complicated dynamics of oppression, protesting, looting, and violence that come with it was hard partly because even as an adult, I struggle myself to find clarity on those issues. If I can’t wrap my mind around some of it, how could I expect them to? At the same time, there are some simple, underlying lessons available for my kids - and I believe for yours, too - that they need to learn during times like these. Paramount among them is that for all of us, empathy is essential.

There are some simple, underlying lessons available for my kids - and I believe for yours, too - that they need to learn during times like these. Paramount among them is that for all of us, empathy is essential.

Empathy is “the ability to recognize, understand, and share the thoughts and feelings of another person.” During our conversation, my son defined it as “being able to stand in someone else’s shoes.” That’s exactly what empathy is. Usually it’s standing in the beat up, worn out shoes of someone who’s gone through something you haven’t, and to hurt the way you imagine they must hurt. And while it’s not always easy to do, I believe building our capacity for empathy - in ourselves and in our kids - is the only way we can right what’s wrong, the only way we can heal the generational divisions of racism that still exist, and the only way we can make our country the place it can and should become.

I can admit that I have no idea what it’s like to be black in America and I never will. Neither will my boys. I don’t know what it’s like to see people who look like me being profiled and persecuted for the color of their skin. I don’t know what it’s like to see a police car trailing me and worrying - not because of who I am, but because of who I'm afraid that officer might be - that my life could be in danger. I don’t know what it’s like to have some of the conversations a black father must be forced to have with his children about being smart and staying safe and making sense of all this injustice, or the amount of worry he must feel about what his kids might experience or be forced to endure when he sends them on their way each day.

I don’t know any of those things, but a strong sense of empathy encourages me, at the very least, to try and feel what those who are experiencing it must feel. It encourages me to stand in their beat up, worn out shoes and hurt the way they must hurt. When I do that, I see more clearly the gap that exists between my privilege and their pain. Empathy encourages me to listen and learn. It makes me want to do what I can to make things right.

Here are a few of the empathy-related questions I asked my boys to consider - and I tried to consider myself - while we watched the video of George Floyd’s murder. What must it have felt like to be George Floyd in those moments, begging for help and gradually realizing that none was coming? What must it have felt like to be one of those bystanders, witnessing this injustice but feeling powerless to step in and help? What must it have felt like to be a black person in America, watching that video and feeling like - based on the color of your skin - that he could be you or someone you love? How must it feel to keep seeing people like you get hurt or killed again and again and again, yet feeling like nothing's being done to change it?

I don’t have many answers for solving the issues of racism and discrimination in our country, but I do believe whatever change I wish to see in the world starts with me and those in my care. I believe that I have a major influence on the lessons I teach my children and the way they see themselves and others in this world. I believe the same thing about you and the level of influence you have on your children. I believe that sometimes as a parent, difficult, awkward or uncomfortable conversations are part of our responsibility, and I want to have the courage it takes to do what I know needs to be done, even if it isn't easy. I believe we can fix what's wrong with ourselves and with our country, but only if we're willing to step into the shoes of those who are different than us. Now more than ever, our empathy is esential.