Did you Score An Eagle Today?

There are some stories that you read and just cannot stop thinking about.

The recent story coming out of Cornell University has been one of those for me.

A former Cornell student has alleged that she was drugged and sexually assaulted by seven men in 2024. What has been especially heartbreaking to me is the allegation that a fraternity group chat with more than 50 members was active while this was happening, including a message inviting other members upstairs.

And-- I keep thinking about the people who were watching.

The people who knew something was happening.

The people who had a choice to say something.

And the question I cannot get out of my head is:

What would I have done?

Because I have children.

And when I think about the world my kids are growing up in, honestly, it scares me sometimes.

Not just because there are bad people in the world.

But because there are moments when good people can become silent people.

And I don't want to raise children who simply know the difference between right and wrong.

I want to raise children who have the courage to do something about it.

My dad used to ask us about eagles.

When we would come home from school, my dad would ask:

"Did you score any eagles today?"

An eagle meant you soared.

It meant you chose the hard right over the easy wrong.

Maybe that meant sitting next to the kid who always sat alone.

Maybe it meant going against your friends.

Maybe it meant doing something kind when nobody was watching.

Maybe it meant standing up for someone who wasn't even there to hear you defend them.

At the time, I thought it was just one of my dad's little sayings.

Now I realize he was teaching us something I think our world desperately needs.

You have to practice courage before you need it.

We can't expect our kids to suddenly find a backbone in the biggest moments of their lives if we haven't taught them how to use it in the small ones.

And honestly, this isn't just about our kids.

It's about us.

We need to practice going against the grain.

Sure, we can teach our kids to work hard when they don't feel like it.

But what about speaking up when your friends are bad-mouthing someone who isn't in the room?

What about being the person who says, "Hey, that's not okay"?

What about sitting with the weird kid?

What about refusing to laugh when everyone else is laughing?

What about choosing kindness when there is absolutely nothing in it for you?

What about road rage?

Because let's be honest. Most of us would never talk to another person face-to-face the way we sometimes act behind a steering wheel.

These tiny moments matter.

They are opportunities to practice choosing our better instincts over our immediate ones.

Because when the really big moment comes, I don't think we magically become brave.

We fall back on the person we've been practicing becoming.

So I want to practice.

I want my children to see me practice.

I want them to see me speak up.

I want them to see me apologize.

I want them to see me defend someone who isn't there.

I want them to see me choose compassion when judgment would be easier.

I want them to see me choose the hard right.

I want them to see me score some eagles.

And I think we need to heal something between men and women, too.

I am a big feminist.

But when I say that, I mean feminism in the truest sense to me.

I want women to be seen.

I want women to be valued.

I want women to be respected for exactly who they are.

And I believe men deserve that same thing.

I don't want to live in a world where we teach women to view all men through fear and teach men that their masculinity is something they need to apologize for.

Because I believe deeply in the goodness of healthy men.

Healthy men are protectors.

They are defenders.

They carry the heavy things.

They show up when things get hard.

They sacrifice in ways that often go unnoticed.

They use their strength to make the people around them feel safer, not smaller.

That is the kind of man I want my sons to become.

And it is the kind of man I want my daughters to know exists.

I think we can hold men accountable for terrible behavior without deciding that men themselves are the problem.

And I think we can expect more from men because we believe they are capable of more.

I also believe women have a role here.

We can breathe life into the good men around us.

We can recognize integrity when we see it.

We can encourage courage.

We can celebrate men who protect, provide, serve, love, and lead with humility.

We don't have to tear down masculinity to make room for strong women.

I actually think we need both.

Strong women.

Good men.

And children who grow up knowing that their strength is meant to be used in service of something bigger than themselves.

Maybe that is what my dad was really teaching us.

Maybe "scoring an eagle" isn't about doing something impressive.

Maybe it's about what you do when nobody is watching.

Maybe it's choosing to sit beside someone who is alone.

Maybe it's speaking up when your friends are silent.

Maybe it's making the uncomfortable phone call.

Maybe it's walking away from the crowd.

Maybe it's defending someone who will never even know you did it.

Maybe it's choosing the hard right over the easy wrong.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Until it becomes who you are.

I can't control every room my children will ever walk into.

I can't control every person they will meet.

I can't protect them from everything that is hard or heartbreaking in this world.

But I can teach them what to do when they find themselves standing in the middle of it.

I can teach them to listen to that little voice inside that says, this isn't right.

And then I can teach them to act.

Because I don't just want my children to be good people when it is convenient.

I want them to be the kind of people who will stand alone if they have to.

Who will protect someone who needs protecting.

Who will speak when everyone else is silent.

Who will choose courage over belonging.

Who will choose the hard right over the easy wrong.

And maybe, just maybe, that is how we change the world.

Not all at once.

Not through some grand gesture.

But through thousands of tiny decisions made by people who have practiced being brave long before they were asked to be.

So I'll keep asking my kids the same question my dad asked me.

Did you score any eagles today?

And I hope the answer is yes.

Not because they were perfect.

But because somewhere, sometime, when it would have been easier to look away...

they chose to soar.

And I want to do the same.