The Silencing of Sirens
Making peace with my career changes
The first hour of my day is spent greeting my students at the front gate. One of the last ones to arrive is Holly.

Morning greet
Every morning, when she sees me, she throws both of her hands up in the air anticipating a hug, this action is quickly followed by a boisterous exclamation,
“Josh”
as she runs full blast at me. To end in a warm embrace. This precedes her first English lesson of the day where I teach her how to say,
“Goodbye Mom, I will see you after school. I love you.”
She always tries her best with a gleeful smile and the universal 3 year old speech impediments.
The essence of empathy
She only cries for two reasons. When she is hurt, really hurt. Little bumps and bruises are not a big deal to Holly, but if someone is mean to her and hurts her, she will break down and cry.
It’s not the pain, its the intention. Cruelty is so foreign to her that she doesn’t know how to process it.
The only other trigger for her tears is if she accidentally hurts someone and they cry. She is pure empathy in its rawest form.
Sad Gummy Bear
Yesterday was our end of the year performance and all the parents came to watch.
Almost all.
We performed the “Gummy Bear Dance.” I should say, I performed the “Gummy Bear Dance.” We practiced for two months, during class they performed the dance flawlessly. Yet once on stage they magically forgot all the moves and left me, a 40 year old man, doing the “Gummy Bear Dance” alone.
Most of the stage time they spent looking in the crowd for their parents and as soon as the performance ended they all dispersed to spend time with them.
Holly’s didn’t show.
She broke down. How do you console a three year old who is seeing her classmates revel in parental adoration, while she desperately searches for hers in the crowd only to be left wanting.
It was a deep guttural cry.
She sat there with her mouth open, no sound as tears poured down her cheeks.
I watched as she suffered in catatonic silence. My co-teachers and I tried to console her.
Salience in sadness
I realized something in that moment. My career as a merchant mariner is over for the foreseeable future. I can’t go to sea for months a a time and miss any moment of my child’s life. I can’t imagine missing one recital, one sports game, one school play.
You put my son in a little yellow bear costume and prance his silly looking self onstage with his classmates, I don’t care where he is. I will be there with a smile on my face and a camera in my hand.
Her cries silenced the sirens
My life at sea was rewarding beyond measure. The security and simplicity of my monkish life at sea beckoned like a Siren.
Until yesterday
Yesterday those Sirens were silenced, by the inaudible desperate cries of a 3 year old.
My son will never search a crowd of adoring parents and fail to find me.
Naps cure all
After a good nap Holly was back to her cheerful self and I am sure her mother had a legitimate reason why she could not be there. I hope it does not have a lasting impression on Holly because she is an example of the best of our species and I hope she continues to exemplify us all.

