I remember dressing the morning of the show, putting on my snappiest outfit, aware that the TV cameras would probably do head shots of the audience, as they often did in the smaller Philadelphia studio.
Perhaps the nucleus to a better humanity is to practice deep listening, humility and reconstruct the harmful, seductive narratives of violence into healing, self-actualizing narratives of deliberate peace.
Modern parents have been coached to build their children's self-esteem by offering lavish praise. What parents often fail to do is prepare them for the inevitable disappointments and failures they will encounter.
If we fail to offer the skills of self-awareness, self-mastery, and resilience to this generation, we are leaving them disadvantaged and ill-equipped, with some in a precarious position as they try to find their way in this increasingly high-stress world.
I remember when I was a teenager and I believed my mother didn't understand a thing about me. Now, of course, I realize what a confused, angry, mixed-up, total pain in the ass I was back then. I also realize my mother was the same age when she had me as I was when I had my first child.
Mrs. Davy Jones. This is what I wrote all over the inside front over of my three-ring notebook in 7th grade. I couldn't write it on the front cover because that was plastered with "Mrs. Paul McCartney."
While I usually speak about economic issues or geopolitic or global issues, today I would like to discuss an issue that's about care for our kids, about the next generation and about a specific danger they are facing: suicide.
How did it happen that so many of our children are going to school, and studying math, and science, and history, and design, and deciding that the best way to get on in the world is to let boys use their bodies?