When I was younger, one of the popular Christmas gifts from family members was always the multi-tool. You know that thing that looks like a pair of pliers had a kid with a Swiss army knife? One of the best ones that I ever received was the Leatherman Wingman, but I can honestly say I never fully appreciated it until I grew up and became a dad.
It was always too big to be a pocket knife and all of the gadgets seemed too small to be useful. Then I learned that every child’s toy is packaged more securely than many pharmaceuticals. They all have zip ties or some other industrial strength bracket securing the toy to the cardboard packaging. Also, it turns out that battery-operated toys for small children have screws that keep the batteries away from the kids. The Leatherman Wingman even has a tool for opening the plastic packaging in a way that doesn’t put Dad’s fingers in harm’s way. Suddenly, I found many uses for something I never really understood.
In the same way, as a dad, I’ve learned to use other tools that I never thought I would. That’s not a typo in the title; the act of fathering requires a set of tools that we haven’t yet mastered. Things like emotional intelligence, empathy, and humility should be part of the well-equipped dad’s multi-tool.
I used to be proud of my ability to be able to detach from my emotions. I’ve frequently advised employees and others that the emotional decision is usually the wrong one. Now that I am the father of a sensitive little boy who is far better at showing love and kindness and all the positive emotions than I have ever been, I’ve learned that understanding emotions can make us much more successful. I want to see my son keep his emotional connection with the world, and that makes it imperative that I learn to understand and use emotions effectively.
Similarly, I’ve watched my son tear up from listening to a sad story. I’m baffled by his lifelong inability to make it through most country songs simply because he can tell the singer is sad, even if he doesn’t know what the words mean. I hope one day to be almost as good and loving and caring as my young son already is. His empathy may be something that hasn’t been hardened by the dishonesty and harm that we, as adults, have witnessed and experienced throughout our lives. I want to work to sharpen my empathy tool so that I can help keep his working the way it does now.
The other tool that I’m learning to use more frequently as a dad is humility. Recently I had planned a challenge for a staff development program at work. One of the teams was supposed to be in a submarine that had lost its navigational abilities, and they had to find their way to the surface – obviously with no knowledge of how to drive a submarine. I proudly explained this exercise to my son, who didn’t take more than a moment to tell me, “Dad, they just have to go up.” And he wasn’t wrong. He regularly reminds me how comfortable my big belly is to lay on, and he dutifully makes sure I go back if I miss a spot when I mow the yard. He helps me sort the bad jokes from the funny ones. In him, I see a mirror image of my best moments and my worst behaviors, and it takes a great deal of humility to acknowledge my imperfections and to teach him to avoid them.
So, if you know a dad or one soon-to-be, encourage them to go father with the right set of tools. And if you aren’t sure what to buy them, the Leatherman Wingman might be something to consider.