This post comes from Robert Bowling. Robert is the Creative Strategist at Infinity Ward, developer of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2, and has a 1 yr old daughter. You can follow him on Twitter @fourzerotwo.
Attempting to chronicle ‘What My Dad Did Right’, wound up being a much more enjoyable and lengthy experience than I first expected. It was a chance to sit back and really appreciate all the things my father did for me, that I now realize were never fully understood and cherished at the time. For the sake of brevity however, I felt it would be most appropriate to focus on the act(s) that had the greatest impact on the person I am today, where I’m at in my life, and the lessons I’ll use to raise my own daughter.
Going through the list of life lessons he taught by example; from his work ethic — I can count on one hand the amount of sick days he took in the 18 years we lived together – to the value of money, savings, and mentality that nothing worth having comes easy. I distinctly remember the desire I had for my own TV, so I could play video games in my room without having to swap off with my brother after each death. My father used this request as an opportunity. He had an old black and white television in his work shed out back. It had broken metal bunny ear antennas, barely got reception, and was definitely on its last legs. It was mine, if I could get it working.
I reluctantly took the TV, despite it being incapable of actually playing a console system beyond the Atari 2600 collecting dust in the closet. I hooked it up, I applied aluminum foil to it’s taped up metal antennas; I positioned it on top of boxes to get the perfect position for reception. Despite how dreadful the final result was, with static images that cut in and out and horrible sound, when I did get a watchable signal. I enjoyed it. I earned those grainy, low-quality 30 mins of the Simpsons in the peace and quiet of my own room on my own TV.
While I do appreciate all of those lessons, more so today than I ever did growing up, they’re not what I believe is the defining lesson of my father’s parenting. What I truly appreciate the most is far more subtle, far more universal, and something all of us can offer our children; the never-ending support of ever-changing dreams.
Regardless of how ridiculous my idea was, regardless if my father fully understood exactly what I was going on about, and regardless of the fact that there was a good chance that the thing I was completely convinced I’d do for the rest of my life and was the greatest thing to ever be thought up, that I’d probably be on a completely new obsession by the end of the week; My father always supported me, the idea, and never stepped in the way of letting me see it to an end. Even if that end was an utter failure, I was given the freedom to sprint, to trip, and most importantly to take the fall for my ideas. This is something I think is essential to every great success, the ability for great failure.
When I was 8 years old, I told my dad I wanted to be an author. I drew up a cover, which was oddly similar to the latest Goosebumps book I was reading, and he would take it to work and photocopy duplicates for me to bind together. When I was 13 years old, I told my dad I wanted to start a record label. He took me to the local court house to apply for a business license, in my name. He took me to the bank and helped me open a checking account, in my name. The rest was up to me. He’d listen to me rant and ramble on about bands I was signing, tours we were booking, CD release dates, and shows I was booking in nearby Cincinnati, Ohio. I don’t think ever really considering it more than a hobby.
I went into the military, I left the military, I started a magazine, I managed bands, I started working in video games, and moved across the country. Every twist and turn my life took, my dad was there to listen to the grand plan, proudly frame and display the first issue, print out articles or photos about my projects, and most importantly show complete confidence in me and my ideas.
My family didn’t have financial resources to support my grand plans, nor did they necessarily have the expertise in the fields I was diving head first into to offer advice or guidance relevant to the decisions I was making. Most importantly, they didn’t need to fund me, or hold my hand through the processes. My father, whether consciously or unconsciously did exactly what he needed to do. He listened to my outlandish goals, my wild dreams, and my grand ambitions and he believed that I could make every single one of them a reality.
