What Does It Mean to be Great

 

Although I've tried to significantly diversify my book list, the fact of the matter is I've read a lot of biographies of old white men. And, whether from recent times or centuries ago, an almost universal theme is that none of them had (or at least their biographers chose not to consider important to their life story) any major parental responsibilities. Sometimes it's the cheerful "loved and doted on their kids," and sometimes the kids are literally not even in the picture (shipped off to be raised by another family member, or they themselves are away from home for months on end). Either way, it's hard not to draw the conclusion that having a life great enough to warrant one or more biographies involves not having to also worry about day-to-day kid-related tasks.

Most modern dads have no such path. For some, the quest for greatness quite literally costs them their family life: divorce, estrangement, distance. For others, greatness is sacrificed, for a season or forever: sometimes with great lament, while other times it's good riddance to the pressure that comes with it, when compared with the greater desire to enjoy fatherhood.

Many of my work colleagues with career ambitions and involved jobs have life situations that don't involve major kid responsibilities. Many of my friends who are involved in their kids' lives don't have jobs that tax them beyond 9 to 5. And then there's folks like me, who want to be present for their children and for whom work is a calling and not just a paycheck. To choose this middle path involves sacrifice and long hours and compromise. 

But greatness demands far more. At the highest echelons of any craft, greatness involves a singular focus. Is that compatible with domestic responsibilities? Can you be biography-worthy while carrying a significant parenting load? Or is it true that, by definition, greatness doesn't allow room for that?

The easy answer is that greatness is far too costly to want to pursue. And most people leave it at that without losing sleep at night. Who wants to be great when it comes at the expense of so many things that make life enjoyable?

But I am left tossing and turning. Is there then no room for greatness, except among those who have streamlined everything else out of their lives? Is the world worse off if there are fewer great people among us, and none of them are devoted parents too? Am I personally willing to pay the cost to be great, and if I'm not then am I willing to not be great?

Some people have great ambition. Others are just narcissists. But for some of us, greatness is called upon us. A circumstance is thrust on us, an opportunity to make a difference, a pull from the divine if you believe in such things. If we choose not to step through the door, can we live with the lost opportunity? If we choose to step through the door, are we willing to pay the price that comes with it? Or can we do the hard thing and also do the big and small things that come with being a parent?

When the story of our generation is told, I hope there are some amazing biographies to read. And I sure as heck hope that some of them are of people who were truly great, and yet who also spent meaningful time being parents, and their biographers took care to record this and celebrate this. I just don't know if it's possible.