That’s My Dad
There is no greater honor than being admired in this way.
Joy is universal.
Joy knows no gender or race. You can’t even say joy belongs to people because I’ve seen some happy dogs jumping for joy at the sight of their humans returning home.
It’s infectious.
It’s contagious.
The sight of pure, unbridled joy is like lightning in a bottle. You can try to recreate it, but joy is at its best when it's felt in your bones, authentically beautiful, piercing the soul.
Feeling joy within ourselves is a feeling that lasts forever. Witnessing joy in someone else is a sight to be seen.
On August 21, 2024, Minnesota Governor Tim Walz stepped on stage in front of thousands of people in the United Center and millions more at home to accept the Democratic Nomination to become Kamala Harris’s Vice Presidential running mate.
Two weeks before the biggest speech of his life, Tim Walz was a little-known Governor from Minnesota. He was best known for a viral photo of kids hugging him in his office after he signed into law a bill that guarantees free school breakfasts and lunches for every student in Minnesota’s public and charter schools.
This former football coach, public school teacher, and Nebraska native was about as “everyday man” as possible. In a world run by think tanks, speech coaches, and Super PACs, Tim Walz was about as much of an outsider to politics as you could get.
We’ve learned a lot about Tim in three weeks. Far more than I would like anyone to learn about me in three decades.
We learned that he led his football team to a state championship, ran the school's first Gay-Straight alliance, became the first Governor to provide free breakfast and lunch to all Minnesota students, and, most importantly for me, how he became a dad.
Tim and his wife, Gwen, used IUI to start their family, which led to their becoming parents to Hope and Gus Walz.
No matter the circumstances, becoming a dad is a cause to celebrate, but entering fatherhood after years of infertility has to make the experience that much more miraculous.
Like any candidate running for office, the world has gotten to know the Walz family.
The midwestern family of four has been catapulted onto the national stage, and while we may have been introduced to Tim Walz, the Vice Presidential candidate, on August 21st, we learned about Tim Walz, the dad.
In his speech at the Democratic National Convention, Walz spoke to his family from the stage, saying, “Hope, Gus, and Gwen, you are my entire world, and I love you.”
If that weren’t enough to bring you to tears, his kids’ reaction would be enough to let the waterworks flow.
As the camera cut to his daughter, Hope, with tears in her eyes, she made a heart shape with her hands and showed it to her dad.
Then Walz’s 17-year-old son, Gus, stood to his feet, sobbing, clapping triumphantly, and pointing to the stage while yelling, “That’s my dad!”
“That’s my dad!”
“That’s my dad!”
I’ve been 17 before. I’ve coached 17-year-olds before. They are not often known for their beaming pride in their parents.
The way Gus stood proud, cheering emphatically, crying tears of pure joy after seeing his Dad in the biggest moment of his career struck a chord in almost anyone who witnessed it.
These kids love their dad. Not in a politically motivated way. They weren’t coached into supporting their dad. Their authenticity radiated through the screen and into millions of homes nationwide.
These kids absolutely love their dad.
Stepping into fatherhood can be a joyous occasion.
On one hand, you’re filled with exhaustion, never knowing if you’re doing anything right for your kids or yourself. On the other hand, you’ve got courtside seats to the greatest show on earth, watching your kids step into the callings you’ve watched them develop for years.
We work hard to prepare our kids for success, and somewhere along the way, we just hope that we can make them proud.
For Tim Walz, August 21st may have been the biggest moment of his career, but judging by his kids’ reactions, it was nowhere close to the biggest moment of his life.
That type of love is universal.
It knows no gender or race.
It’s infectious.
It’s contagious.
And it’s everything you could ever pray for as a dad.