A Father’s Perspective

I’m going to a celebration next Saturday in California.  Our daughter, Elizabeth, has published a book and it’s making its public debut that day.  “The Elephant on Aaron’s Chest” is thirty-six pages long, contains two-hundred and eighty-nine words, and took fifteen years to write.  You can’t rush perfection.

Elizabeth is a licensed clinical social worker in San Diego.  She graduated from Addison Community Schools, earned her bachelor’s degree at Western Michigan University, and her master’s from the University of Michigan.  What I know about the book, and her experience writing it, is “a father’s perspective”.

She talked about becoming a writer when she was in high school.  I’ve saved several of her, and her brother’s, compositions.  They give me a look at who they were during their high school years.  Some were given to me; some were just left behind when they headed off to college.  I take a look back from time to time.

In her late twenties, as she was establishing her career as a social worker, she began talking about children’s book ideas she developed.  Some were serious, while others were a comical look at life through what she envisioned a child might see.  They may have been glimpses of her own childhood.  Only she knows for sure.

If you speak with Elizabeth about her book, she’ll tell you she was inspired by her friend, Shayne.  He was a childhood friend, who grew up in our neighborhood.  He played on a baseball team with her brother, David. I coached the boys.  Shayne’s father helped remodel our house at Lake LeAnn when we added our master suite.  It still sports the windows, siding, and screened porch that he and his crew installed.  His grandmother, Dee, once asked me for advice about publishing a children’s book she had written.  I worked with her for a brief time with no success

Elizabeth had a crush on Shane, and after they both graduated from high school, they dated for a time.  They remained good friends even after they married others and Shayne had a son, Jaiden.

When she was getting serious about her writing, Shayne was in a dark place, and he told her he felt like there was an elephant on his chest.  That became the focus of her book, and she asked Shane, an artist, if he would illustrate it.  He agreed and brought the two characters, Aaron and his elephant, to life with his drawings. During one of his darkest times, Shayne attempted suicide.  He failed in his first attempt, sought help, started doing better, faltered, and succeeded in his second attempt.  The book ground to a halt.

Her desire to publish gained momentum a few years ago.  She sought advice from published authors, book publishing companies, joined writing groups, and honed each page, each word, until they were perfect.  She needed an illustrator and reached out to a young man she had counseled who was also a talented artist.  He agreed to do the work and spent more than a year in production. Arturo Lappara’s drawings are spectacular.

“The Elephant on Aarons’ Chest” is about a young boy who is struggling with his feelings, which have taken on the form of an elephant.  A friend recently asked the intended audience of the book.  What age is it meant for?  I didn’t have a good answer for her as, although the book is about a young boy, I think it reaches across all ages.

When I was teaching, I used children’s books and song lyrics with my students.  I wanted them to see you could reach out to others, and touch their souls, with just a few well-chosen words.

I think each of us has an elephant traveling through life with us.  Some settle in when life’s pressures are too much. Children are sometimes challenged by making friends, attending new schools, overbearing bullies, learning a new skill, or the death of a loved one.  Adults are confronted with financial challenges, marital strife, workplace turmoil, world headlines, and raising a family.

My elephant got heavy with the passing of my friend, Jim, and a few months later my cousin, Gene.  While we may not rid ourselves of the negative feelings that seem to crush us, we can accept their presence, and learn to embrace them. Learning to understand ourselves, like Aaron, should be a goal for all of us.

I’m extremely proud of Elizabeth’s accomplishment.  I’m honored she chose her childhood name as her penname.  Even if this is the only book she ever writes, BZ Tebo will always be my favorite author.