No such thing as a “Dad Job”

Today I fixed the chain on my littlest Pioneer Girl’s bike.

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There used to be a time when, in a fit of not-wanting-to-do-that-right-now, I told my little kids that that sort of thing was a “Dad Job,” and they would have to wait until Dad got home and ask Dad to do it.  That went for such things as getting the screwdriver to remove the battery cover to change the batteries in the loudest favorite racecar, or fixing the squeaky drawer, or starting the grill for dinner, or anything that made me go outside and work where it’s hot.  (This is Arizona, people.)

Then one day I thought about what I was teaching my kids about what girls can do.  And it wasn’t the right thing.  Blergh.

I grew up in a house with no boys.  It was me, my mom, and my little sister, and we did everything.  My mom was especially great about it.  If there was something she needed done and she didn’t know how or didn’t have the right tools, we had an amazing Grampop a few miles away who had the tools and the knowledge to do pretty much anything.  But my mom never asked him to do it for her — she always asked him to show her, so that she could do it next time.  And he was super supportive of her and patient as she learned.

I watched my mom do everything, from running both an office and a household on her own, to cutting pieces of wood with heavy machinery in our backyard to create art,  to things as simple as arranging the logistics of our annual vacations.  Eventually she passed some of those jobs down to me.  I remember all three of us sitting around the cordless phone with a notepad (pre-Internet, people!) as I called and got rates, compared locations and prices, and then finalized the hotel and rental car arrangements for our trip to Seattle the summer that I turned 12.

And now I’m telling my kid that I can’t use a screwdriver to change some batteries?  Dude.

So a couple of months ago I stopped saying “Dad Job” to my children, and I got out the tool box.  My girls see me get my hands dirty and fix their bikes.   My boy knows that I can run the lawnmower or jump-start a car. They’re learning, by watching me and working with me, that there’s no such thing as a “Dad Job.” Girls can do anything.

Meet Mackenzie

Mackenzie Teo became a Pioneer when she was 17 years old.

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Mackenzie spent more than half her life in foster care before she was adopted in November 2014, six months before she would have aged out of the system. Because she was an older child when she entered the care of the state, her chances of being adopted were not good. She spent time in 26 different “placements,” including group homes. She considers two of them “good” — stable, loving, kind, supportive — placements.

When Mackenzie first met the family who would eventually adopt her, she had one pair of shoes that were two and a half sizes too small. They had holes everywhere. She wore an ill-fitting dress, the nicest she could find, and these blownout brown sneakers. She wore those shoes everywhere — to church, to school, to meet the people she hoped would become her family — because they were the only shoes she had.

A couple of years later, when Mackenzie came back to this family, this time forever, she had no shoes. She borrowed a pair of sandals that were three sizes too small for the day she saw her foster mom again. She had attended school barefoot for weeks because the group home she lived in didn’t provide her shoes like they should have.

When Mackenzie was finally adopted, she asked her mom for 17,000 pairs of shoes. In Arizona, where Mackenzie lives with her family, the most recent official statistics say that 16,990 children are in the custody of the state, living with foster families, in group homes, or with extended family members. Nearly 17,000 children — Mackenzie wanted to draw attention to that number. Mackenzie wants to help those children.

Mackenzie asked for 17,000 pairs of shoes so that she could help people visualize how many children are in foster care, how many children need help.

Together with her mom, Mackenzie is collecting those 17,000 pairs of new children’s shoes to make a video that will help people understand the needs of children in her state. When the video is completed and published, Mackenzie wants to donate those shoes to the children who need them.

The Foster Children’s Rights Coalition is helping Mackenzie with this project, which she calls Footsteps.  Her story has been told in The New York Times and in The Huffington Post and in The Arizona Republic.

Mackenzie is a brave, strong young woman, but sharing her story is not easy.  She’d prefer that many of these details remain private, that she didn’t have to become known as “a foster child” before being known as a smart girl who likes to cook and spend time with her family.  But Mackenzie is putting the needs of other kids before her own and trying to call attention to a problem and find ways to fix it.  She hopes that sharing her story changes things for others.

Mackenzie has found a smart way to better the lives of children who often can’t speak for themselves, while she’s still a teenager herself.   Mackenzie is a Pioneer.