I have a lot to be thankful for. But right now I’m thinking about my parents. 

I’ve loved reading and learning my whole life (my parent’s fault). As a kid, I’d read about snakes and tornadoes, inventions and geography, but my favorite thing was history. I’ve now traded those large “DK Eyewitness” books for Wikipedia, but reading about random historical events is one of my biggest comforts. On afternoons after school and during those long summers, I’d often sit in my bed, pouring over history books. As soon as I found something interesting, I’d often scramble downstairs to tell Mom about it. It didn’t matter if she was painting, cooking or sweeping, she would always listen intently and graciously, asking follow-up questions to show she was listening. Mom made me feel heard and loved, and she taught me that my curiosity was important. She also forced me to be a better teacher in explaining my insights to her. She still lets me babble about the complex things I read about, as if I was her very own live podcast. Oftentimes, trying to explain hard concepts to Mom has been a way for me to understand better, which has been crucial for tests and TKC articles alike. For my curiosity, I owe her.

What I’ll say about my dad is more general. My dad taught me what it means to be emotionally mature. He taught me to feel sad when I’m sad, to feel anger without bursting out at people and to always talk it out. Despite a little coercion into playing little league baseball longer than I might have otherwise, he never asked me to be a vessel for him to live through, always encouraging my exploring. Maybe most importantly, he taught me how to cope with mental illness. From the beginning of my struggles, he told me how crucial it was to talk to him and my mom. He taught me how to cope, to unashamedly seek help and how to help other friends. Everything I tell my friends when they confide in me is the result of many long conversations with Dad. He taught me that manhood is loving and respecting the people who care for you, not hiding emotions or one-ups-manship. 

That’s the best I can do with a little under 400 words. I hope you know there’s a whole lot more to say. 

Love,

Owen