Epic

A different approach to identity

The College of Engineering at Iowa State University was packed with teams of excited middle school students, ready to compete in the state LEGO robotics tournament. Mike, Matt, and I were ready to cheer on Ben and his teammates from West Branch. LEGO robotics was one of my favorite activities to watch. The team programmed a LEGO robot to complete a variety of challenges. This, in itself, was fascinating, but it was the atmosphere of LEGO robotics competitions that I loved most. The judges wore funny hats. The competing teams made buttons to trade with other teams. And the goal of the whole competition was gracious professionalism. Winning was important, but supporting each other was something that every team could accomplish.

During a break in the matches, we found the souvenir area, which had a variety of LEGO robotics shirts. Matt gravitated toward one in particular. The shirt was black with red, yellow, and gray arrows on the front. Across the shirt was written, “When I grow up, I want to be. . .” At the bottom of the shirt was a blank white rectangle in a yellow LEGO brick. The shirt came with a marker. The message was clear. No one can tell you what you want to be when you grow up, especially not the makers of this shirt. We are not going to make you choose from a limited set of options. Your future is a blank slate. It is entirely up to you. 

When Ben saw Matt’s shirt, he decided that he wanted one too. Lots of the kids were buying them. Most were immediately filling in the white rectangle with desired professions – computer programmer, engineer, teacher. I convinced my boys to wait. Let’s take it home, think about it a little bit, find a nice flat surface to write on. Looking back, I see that I was adding my own message to that of the shirt makers. This is a big decision. Don’t mess it up.

I don’t remember the outcome of the robotics competition. Ben’s team didn’t win or even place, but they had fun and displayed some gracious professionalism. We drove home from Ames talking about the competition. Matt had already decided that he would sign up for LEGO robotics as soon as he was old enough.

The next morning, Matt was up early as usual. I haven’t even finished making coffee when he began covering the kitchen table with large sheets of white paper. “Whatcha doing, bud?” I asked him. “Getting ready to fill in my shirt,” he said. “I don’t want the marker to bleed through on the table.”

Ben wandered out of his bedroom at this point as well. “I know what I’m going to put on my shirt,” he said. “What’s that?” I asked. “Photographer,” he said. He had recently gotten interested in photography. He liked taking pictures with Mike and had even attended a summer camp at our local community college on photography. Despite the small voice in the back of my head questioning the job prospects for photographers, I didn’t try to talk him out of it. I was working on not passing my issues on to my kids.

“Do you know how to spell it?” I asked. “Yes, mom,” he said with a sigh that I probably deserved.

With that, I turned my attention to Matt, who had finished covering every inch of the table with paper. “Ok buddy,” I said. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“You’ll see,” he said with the sly smile that I desperately hoped would never disappear. 

I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down in the living room, far enough away to give them their space, but close enough to help if they needed me. This dance would continue throughout the next several years. I would continue to offer advice, ideas, suggestions. They would sometimes listen and sometimes resist. As a college professor, I have talked with 100s of students about their futures and their career goals. I do research on professionals who feel called to their work because they have found an alignment between their skills, their values, and the work that they do. But I was learning to choose my moments. I had to let them fill in their own white rectangles.

Ben soon brought his shirt over for me to see. He had written PHOTOGRAPHER in all capital letters in his best middle school boy handwriting – legible and definitive. “Looks good,” I said, as Mike wandered into the living room to see what was going on.

“A photographer, cool!” he said, without a thought to job prospects. “Matt, what does yours say?”

Matt had just put the cap back on his marker. Proudly, he walked into the living room and held up his shirt. Ben read it aloud. “When I grow up, I want to be. . . epic.”

I smiled. It was perfect. When I think about identity, I often focus on the roles that I play. I am a mother, a wife, a professor, a writer. But identity also encompasses our ways of being. When we describe ourselves, we claim not just what we are, but also how we are. No matter what profession Matt was heading toward, he knew that he wanted to do it in a big way, with swagger, or as Merriam-Webster puts it, “extending beyond the usual or ordinary especially in size or scope.”

I’ve thought a lot about this episode since I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease. It popped up on my Facebook memories just the other day. I have had to give up some of what I was before I became a person with Parkinson’s. I’m no longer an administrator or a driver. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to be a professor (although I am holding on to that identity as long as I can). But I feel like I have a little more control over how I am. I want to be curious and compassionate, helpful and kind. I want to have a positive impact, no matter what role I play.

A Postscript

When I went back to the Facebook post about Matt’s shirt, I noticed that my mom was the first to comment, as was her tendency after she made the leap into social media. She used Facebook comments like they were parts of a direct conversation, not just with the person who posted, but with the subject of posts as well. This comment was directed to Matt: “Nice shirt, Matt! I think you’re already epic.” I miss that energy in my life.

How do you want to be? No matter what roles you have, are there ways of being that you want to demonstrate? What energy do you want to bring to a room?