Hanging Chads, Dads And Grads

Self-helpy AF!

If this butterfly ballot from 2000 gives you full-body nausea, you’re not alone!

Welcome to an advice column by me, Sara Benincasa, a person with opinions. This column will not diagnose anything or give legal advice. There will be random pop culture references. Send questions to me via DM on Instagram or via email to saratoninnewsletter@gmail.com. If I use your question, I’ll change your name and details to protect your secret agent identity.

Dear Sara,

I object to some of my younger work friends’ sweeping assumptions and factually incorrect statements related to past US presidencies and general elections. They’ve taken to groaning when I start in with “Well, in 2000…” But I see some of them as foolishly cynical when it comes to not voting. I do believe that if we don’t know our history, we are doomed to repeat it. Maybe I am naïve for continuing to believe that good governance can actually happen if we all participate and actually give a shit, but I will stay optimistic. Is there a way to talk to them without sounding like an old fogey?

— I Am Old And I Know Things

Dear IAOAIKT,

You may be wasting your breath on this one. Remember, too, that they may be disillusioned for very good reasons, and that consistently attempting a hard sell may strike them as disrespectful and out of touch.

You might surprise them by biting your tongue the next time this comes up, even if they tease you a little. They may enjoy getting a rise out of you, and if that stops, they may turn their attention to other topics.

This is actually a more passive approach to perhaps getting the results you wish. If you relax your approach, you may find in a few months that one of them actually gets a little curious and engages you again in a non-combative way. Sometimes it’s better to have these conversations one-on-one with friends.

There will be plenty of get-out-the-vote campaigns and lots of mass media messaging encouraging them to participate. I applaud you for wanting to encourage them, but you’ve already tried, and they aren’t listening yet. Personally, I wish I had preached less about voting in the past, as I think it actually turns reluctant voters off.

Once we say our piece, as you’ve done, we ought to let them come around to it on their own. In the meantime, there are organizations like Emily’s List (transparency note: I’m on their Creative Council, I’m in the tank!) who could probably really use your passion and energy on this subject. You might also decide to train as a poll worker. Perhaps if the kids see you getting a free day of PTO to go do Civic Things (TM), they’ll be inspired. No matter what they think, you’ll feel good knowing you made a contribution.

Dear Sara,

I don’t want a Father’s Day gift this year. My children, both adults in their twenties, are strapped for cash, and I would be happy with a phone call or a card. Historically, they have always spent way too much on their mother and me at holidays. Sadly, she passed away last year. We had divorced a while ago but still got along well. I know what it is like to lose your mother and I am empathetic to my kids’ grief.

However, I have the feeling the kids are going to spend an extra-large amount on me this year. They ignore what I say and instead ask me to build wish lists on Target or Amazon. It makes my anxiety go up. Selfishly, I feel stressed considering how I may need to help them both out with money anyway this year. They are sensitive and I don’t want to step on their feelings, especially at such a vulnerable time. Any thoughts?

— A Dad Who Has Enough Stuff

Dear ADWHES,

It’s not selfish to want to protect your coins, Dad. I admire you for the way in which it sounds like you handled co-parenting, and for the kindness and understanding you show your kids. But you needn’t feel bad about being strategic and thoughtful when it comes to money.

This sounds like a bigger issue, but let’s first address Father’s Day 2024. I would simply say, “I’m trying to declutter and really don’t need anything. In fact, it would help me to NOT have more stuff in the house. A phone call would mean a lot to me. I also love cards.” My parents have said versions of those things to my brother and me, and it took a few years for it to sink in for me.

I get it now, though. Maybe it’s because I hit my forties and realized having too much shit actually stresses me out when I look around. Like you said, my anxiety goes up. Perhaps they just need to get a little older to empathize with what you have said.

We live in a capitalist culture that says loving somebody means spending a lot of money on them. A lot of us are taught to deflect offers of gifts out of politeness, with the understanding that of course we fucking want presents. We must appear to not want gifts, though. I bet your kids really do think you’re just trying to be sweet or polite.

I’d give it one more try, telling them both very clearly what WOULD make you super-happy on Father’s Day. You can’t prevent them from buying you stuff, but you can keep repeating your true feelings until they change their approach or you get absolutely tired of it.

You can also say, “I want you to save your money. That would be the best gift you could give me, besides a hug.” Or skip the “besides a hug” part.

I know some of the commenters have more experience from a parenting-adult-kids perspective than do I, a person with no kids. I would merely venture to say that you get to set limits, even with folks who are grieving.

You sound like a really good dad.

Dear Sara,

I live in one of those Northeastern states that doesn’t release its public school children into the wild until late June. One of my offspring is going to graduate by the skin of their teeth. They hate school and all their friends are older or live in other school districts. They don’t want to do graduation, and I’m not forcing the ceremony on them. They also don’t want a party, but I do, because I feel like I hauled them up High School Mountain on my back. What would you do?

— Mother Who Needs Some Cake And A Drink or Six

Dear MWNSCAADOS,

Throw yourself a party! Call it Barb’s Summer Blowout or Teneisha’s Wild Solstice Ritual or whatever the hell you want. Invite your friends. If you want to bust out the pics of the kid from kindergarten through age 18, that’s your business. The kid doesn’t even need to be there.

Have the girls over, enjoy your favorite beverages and music and snacks, talk about your kids’ hot gym teacher, whatever you want. Write THANK GOD THAT SHIT IS FUCKING OVER on a cake in your kid’s high school colors and then smash it into your face.

If your kid says, “You’re making my graduation all about you,” just tell them, “No, I’m reclaiming my time! Go have fun with your little friends!” and then have a middle-aged bacchanal in the backyard. Just don’t get arrested for streaking through the neighbors’ yards after the spicy margs hit.