LESSON FROM A LIONESS: Show, don’t just tell.
Rosie’s passion for public service meant long hours away from home, but instead of just telling her sons where she was going and why, she brought them with her to show them. Even when it may seem like they’re not paying attention, they can see what it takes to be committed; they can sense your excitement and can see how change happens. Being present in connectedness means showing up every day in your kids’ lives and inviting them to see you in action as a person—not just a parent. We can be very passionate about our children, and some of us, if we’re lucky like Rosie, are passionate as well about our careers or other dedications in our lives. Channel that passion by learning ways to communicate it to your children, to have them connect with what you connect with. They don’t need to follow in your footsteps, like Julián and Joaquín; however, this type of connection ensures a family tie that will transcend the confines of your home and send waves into the future.
Connecting to a New Life: The Calynn Moore Story
I define connection as the energy that exists between people when they feel seen, heard, and valued; when they can give and receive without judgment; and when they derive sustenance and strength from the relationship.
—Brené Brown
It is the oldest international fellowship and considered the most prestigious, bringing together young people from around the world to connect with each other, to study together, and to dream big on how they will contribute to a better world. Being named a Rhodes Scholar is a recognition of a sincere and ongoing commitment to education, to community and public service, to demonstrated leadership, and to physical and mental agility. For the thirty-two American scholars chosen each November, it is the beginning of a new worldview: excited by the international experiences they will soon have; informed by the life journeys of their Rhodes contemporaries; and buoyed by the stories and successes of those scholars who came before them, like journalist Rachel Maddow, President Bill Clinton, Senator Cory Booker, athletes like football great Myron Rolle and basketball’s Bill Bradley, and diplomats like Susan Rice. And, I am proud to say, my own son, Wes.
I had the pleasure of catching up with Calynn J. Moore (whom I’ll refer to going forward as CJ), the mother of Caylin Moore, an extraordinary young man who guided by his mom’s strength, presence, and resiliency joined this enviable club of the world’s next visionaries in 2017.
Caylin, with his older sister Mi-Calynn, and younger brother Chase, grew up in a middle-class suburb of Los Angeles. Their father, Louis, and CJ provided them with all the trappings of middle-class life—big house, multiple cars, great schools. Louis worked, CJ worked, and to the outside world, they led an ideal life. Until Louis quit his job and all the responsibility of keeping up with the kids, the house, and the expenses fell on CJ. She said at first, wanting to be supportive of him, she handled everything without complaint. But as a darker side of his personality emerged, she found herself changing to adjust to his psychological abuse.
It got to the point where the only opinion that he wanted to hear was his own and the only opinion that he wanted from me was the one that he gave me. So I started giving him back exactly what he wanted so we wouldn’t argue. I learned how to walk in silence, to quiet myself, but that started bringing on some different forms of anxiety.
Feeling totally disconnected from her husband but not wanting her kids to grow up in a single-parent home or disappoint relatives, who didn’t believe in divorce, CJ stayed—until the psychological abuse became increasingly physical, particularly toward their children. Having already started law school with an eye toward possibly having to support herself and her children in the future, CJ decided to make her move to independence. She moved to her mother’s house in Carson, which neighbors Compton, Los Angeles, some sixty miles away.
Space was tight, with the four of them sharing a room, and food was a daily challenge. Caylin remembers that there were times that his mother didn’t have enough money to feed all three of the kids so she would say that each could get one item from the Dollar Menu at the fast-food restaurant. This is when he started doing push-ups to transfer the pain from his stomach to his arms. While it did wonders for his upper-body strength, sometimes he did push-ups until he passed out in a pool of sweat.
CJ was determined that their financial situation would define neither their lives nor their futures. So she set out on a course of actions that would allow her and her children to take advantage of any opportunity that might come along. Her first decision: Despite the distance, the kids would remain in the school that offered them the greatest advantages. Her next step: She would continue her law school education so she’d have more options to support the family.
I’d get up at four in the morning, get them dressed and in the car, and I would drive the seventy-two miles to Marino Valley where their school was located, and then I’d take Chase to childcare. Then I would drive the forty-five miles back for law school, where I was attending classes from nine until twelve a couple days a week.
The school didn’t know what I was going through. The only thing they knew was that I was the best-dressed student on campus because you know we sisters know how to put it together, and I would always have on my suit. I believe in “dress the way you want to be addressed,” so I was always dressed decent and in order and they’d be, “God, it’s finals. Can’t you put on a sweatshirt and some jeans.” I’m like, Uh, no. I’m dressed for the job that I’m looking for, not the job that I have.
After I’d get out of school, I’d go back to pick the kids up, and I would take them to the park and we would do homework at the park and then we would go for tae kwon do classes. We would get out of there maybe eight o’clock at night, then we’d drive back home and then start all over again.
Most families with kids will agree that connecting around activities is the ultimate bonding experience. But the Moore family bonding didn’t stop with tae kwon do. There were dance classes and community improvement projects that they did together. There was also involvement with the Snoop Dogg and Pop Warner football leagues, which not only provided her sons with skills that would carry them into the future but also connected CJ with coaching roles that would ultimately help her gain financial freedom. But before that would happen, a tumor in one of the chambers of her heart landed her in the hospital—and following a successful surgery, a male nurse sexually assaulted her. The aftermath put all the progress she was making as a single mom in jeopardy.
I didn’t tell the hospital what happened because I knew I still had several more days to be there. I feared that they could put an air bubble in my IV or something. But I did tell everybody who came to visit me. I told them what had happened while it was fresh, and we all kind of agreed it was best to get out of the hospital as soon as possible. I didn’t report it until the hospital sent a follow-up questionnaire once I got home.
After that, I was in a deep depression. I mean, I was probably about thirty days lying on the couch, not moving, and I don’t know how I was taken care of.
I really don’t remember that time. What I do remember now is that after this thirty-day period of time Caylin picked me up and brought me to the bathroom. He had a dining room chair and a plastic bag over it and it was sitting inside of the tub and he was like, “Come on, Mom. You need to take a bath. You need to feel better. You need to wash your hair.” He took my clothes off me and I sat there and I’m thinking now I probably cried. I realized how low of a point I was to have my fourth-grade son standing here to bathe me. I realized, I’ve got kids I’ve got to live for. I’ve got to keep pushing. I’d checked out on them. I don’t know how my babies got to school. I don’t know how my babies ate. I couldn’t keep doing this to them because they deserved better. I’ve got to check back in, in a hurry, so I can take care of my kids. I knew I had to live for them. To myself I declared, then and there, “My pity party is over!”
CJ slowly worked her way back to the state of presence her children needed. She had gone
through a stunning reversal of roles where her children became her pride, her circle of support. It took the recognition that she had experienced PTSD and needed professional therapy to help her the rest of the way. But even though she went through all this, CJ feels that because the kids were such integral players in her recovery, they learned a valuable life lesson about resilience: that no matter what happens, they can return from it.
CJ went on to receive her law degree and started working in a midsize boutique law firm. At the time, Caylin was in middle school and was playing for the Snoop Youth Football League.
I would drop the kids off with the sitter and she would give them breakfast, make them lunch, pick them up, give them dinner, and then I would come pick up my kids. I was paying about $1,800 a month in childcare and I realized that was as much as a salary.
I didn’t want the kids to grow up without me. I was concerned about what high school they were going to be going to and how I was going to be able to manage if the boys were going to continue playing football, and I had to sit back one day and say I missed it all. It was a tough decision. I did the math and said, I’m paying so much for childcare right now. If I scaled back and took on one or two clients on my own, just one or two clients, I’d be probably clearing the same amount, so I decided to leave the firm.
We suffered financially at first, but life has been so much more enriching. I got it in my head that when you work for yourself, you can wake up and decide how many zeros before the decimal you need, and I liked that. You wake up in the morning and say, “I have a bill due. How much do I need to make today? Okay, let me call some clients and generate some income,” or if your kid calls you and the school says, “He’s sick. Can you come pick him up?” Yeah, here I come.
I sacrificed my professional life, in some aspects, but God had a way of leading me into a different profession that I may not necessarily have been able to go into. Once I stopped working for the firm, I was able to participate in community improvement activities with the kids. I was also able to go to all the boys’ football games and since I was always there, knew the game, and could motivate the team, I became the first female hired by Snoop to coach in his league. I’m the first female to be a head football coach in Pop Warner, and I’m one of the first, I believe, females to coach at a high school level. And now I’m breaking the glass ceiling with a coaching position at the college level here in Los Angeles.
CJ became adept at spotting players with potential, so coaches around Los Angeles began relying on her to point out players who would fit into their programs. Soon she was recruiting for football programs around the country, and now as one of the first female college coaches in the nation, CJ hopes she can continue her now successful ten-year-old football player recruiting enterprise. As football has helped her achieve her own family financial freedom, her efforts in recruiting have assisted more than two hundred students get into college and generated just over $45 million in scholarships for kids from underserved areas.
CJ’s daughter is now a California-licensed registered nurse and a mother to her own little girl. Chase is a student at the University of Texas–Austin and an emerging football and academic star. He is also spearheading the effort to begin a chapter of SPARK, which stands for Strong Players Are Reaching Kids, a testimonial outreach program for underserved elementary and middle school students that was co-founded at Texas Christian University by his brother Caylin. As for Caylin, his journey as a Rhodes Scholar continues to fulfill a dream of academic and personal excellence that was fueled and nurtured by the inspiration, expectations, presence, and true grit of his mother.
LESSON FROM A LIONESS: Connect with community, connect through community.
We can gain so much by keeping busy with members of clubs and organizations that have members who are like-minded. And as we saw with CJ and her kids, through community involvement and shared experiences, they tightened the bonds of their own family while meeting honorary extended-family members who ultimately changed the direction of all their lives. The football community turned into a career for CJ that she could never have anticipated or sought out; her presence on the field and at the games brought out a talent she didn’t know she had while also strengthening the bonds that held the family together.
National Geographic provides an extensive list of ideas to get you or your children (if they’re the right age) involved with friends, neighbors, and civic organizations. Keeping your kids busy with connections like these can lead them to connect with their inner purpose, raise their self-esteem, and teach them to be responsible. Some ideas on its list include:
Raise money. Start a drive to help members of your community or another community. For example, start a book or coat drive, a disaster-relief drive, a fund-raising drive, or a canned goods drive.
Help a neighbor (great for your tweens and teens). Adopt a neighbor who could use some extra help. Lend a hand with shoveling snow, scraping ice from a car, yard work, taking out trash and recycling, walking a dog, grocery shopping, or other tasks.
Join a group. Participate in a community organization such as the YMCA.
Community heritage. Research the cultural heritage of your community. Find out why different groups settled there. Did they move to be near family? Were they displaced due to war, poverty, or persecution?
Community jobs. Find out what different people in your community do. With a family member, go talk to a firefighter, a librarian, a construction worker, and people in other professions that interest you.
Improve your neighborhood. Make your neighborhood a better place. Volunteer with your class to do things like pick up trash or other community improvement projects.
Find your parks. Use the internet or Google Maps and zoom in to find your community, taking note of all the public parks, big and small. Then visit a new park each weekend. Take pictures and make your own guidebook of parks in your community. Don’t forget about dog parks, which are great places to meet other people with pets, and perhaps begin volunteering with animal shelters.
The complete list of suggestions can be found on the book’s companion website, www.power-ofpresence.com.
Making Time to Connect with Ourselves
Self-care isn’t selfish. You cannot serve from an empty vessel.
—Eleanor Brownn
Lifestyle author Eleanor Brownn says self-care is a simple formula but essential. “Self-care can be getting more rest, eating healthier food, spending more time in thoughtful reflection, being kinder to yourself, smiling more, playing, or engaging in any activity that renews you,” she says. “By making time for self-care, you prepare yourself to be your best so you can share your gifts with the world.” But this simple formula becomes complex when you add in the ingredient single motherhood.
Three months after my husband died, I was talking to my mother, and as she said later, what she heard in my voice was sheer exhaustion. By the next morning, after all my early-morning chores were complete, she called. She found an ad for a spa that promised “rest, revitalization, and renewal” and thought I should invite some of my girlfriends to go with me for a week away. She and my dad would come down to stay with the kids so all I had to do was decide who I wanted to go with me, make the reservation, book my travel, and go. At first I thought the idea was preposterous. After the death of their dad, how could I possibly go away for a week, for pampering, no less? How could I justify spending that money on myself when there were so many other needs and unexpected expenses? Besides, who in the world would be able to take off a week to do something as frivolous and self-indulgent as go to a spa? My mom convinced me that investing in myself for something like this was not frivolous. Besides, credit cards should be reserved for the unexpected, and there was nothing more unexpected than Wes’s death. Still not convinced anyone else would or could join me, I made some calls anyway and surprisingly both Mary and Gail thought it was a great idea. So off the three of us went to Rancho La Puerto in Baja California.
Its pastoral setting wa
s exactly what I needed, especially since I was sharing it with my girlfriends from college. We woke up to beautiful sunrises and welcomed each day with yoga or meditation on a bench, perched among desert grasses and flowering succulents. At the end of the day, we talked about everything: Wes’s death; my new life as his thirty-two-year-old widow; how helpless they’d felt the night Wes died; and how much our connections meant to each of us. I’ve always said that a therapist is like a friend that you have to pay to listen. With a great set of girlfriends, you don’t have to pay!
Each of our daily schedules was individualized with exercise classes and/or spa treatments. And even though the food was a little healthier than the comfort food I might have wanted, it was delicious and exactly what I needed. At the end of the week I really did feel renewed. I had lost a few pounds, I had reestablished a healthier sleeping pattern, and I was able to shelve, at least for that week, the responsibilities of single motherhood. But most important, I think, was that by my prioritizing myself, I was able to come up with a more realistic plan as to how to proceed as a single parent without sacrificing the presence my children needed.
After I got back I put into practice some of the relaxation techniques I learned in Baja. I finally gave myself permission to grieve, to employ all my senses to look deep within and imagine the direction our family should go. I decided to pick and choose my battles. Would the world explode if the whites mixed with the colors or didn’t make it to the wash at all? Would it really be a bad thing if I forgot to RSVP to that party? Would the food police come if I did takeout a few nights more a week, or allowed my children to worship Tony the Tiger for breakfast? I learned to forgive myself for all the messes—those of my doing and the ones that landed in my lap—and got a little more logical with each breath I took. That logic told me I could worry about bigger things, if I really felt the need, and then when I began to do just that, I found myself not wanting to waste the energy.
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