Almost 2, Our Son, aka @comcast 's Littlest Data Hog

I'd like to introduce you to our son. He's almost two.

Within the walls of Comcast, he's probably also known as The Littlest Data Hog. He loves to watch YouTube and Netflix. His never-ending desire to watch videos of cars and trucks probably contributed to Comcast extorting added fees from us with their stupid data usage cap. They say you should really limit your kid's screen time. We try. Sometimes being a parent is hard.

I don't write much about our son because he doesn't really have much interest in marketing. In fact, the ads that interrupt his YouTube videos are probably one of his greatest frustrations. But one thing that we've learned is that it's hard to empathize with the people that "can't figure out how to use the iPad". Our son has been able to navigate the interface, get to YouTube and choose videos for nearly a year.

Before he was born, we imagined taking him with us frequently when we travel, particularly since bringing a child under two is free on most airlines. Because my wife and I have to travel a lot, we imagined that our son would be one of those expert traveler-kids that you sometimes see in the airport. Often, they have their own little suitcase and they seem to be very practiced at going through airport security. Once he was born, we gained a better understanding of how much care he required, how important a predictable routine can be for kids. Considering all of the things that we needed to bring just to go out to a restaurant, going on a business trip with an infant seemed like something best avoided.

This past May, we finally took our son on a trip, flying back to Florida for a conference and an opportunity for him to meet his grandfather. Overall, our son did well and we did okay. We were a little worried about how he'd deal with the different locations and environment. But, apart from an increased sense of making sure that he knew where Dad and Mom were -- and not letting us get out of sight -- he did okay. He made himself at home in each of the hotel rooms we stayed in. He found places to sit, places to hide, places he liked to play.

I'm writing this now because, over the past week or so, I've been haunted by the image of the little Honduran girl crying while the border patrol searches her mom. You know the image, it's the one that Time Magazine used on their cover, the one referenced in this article, The crying Honduran girl on the cover of Time was not separated from her mother. She's 2-years old. The look, that look of distress, is all too familiar to me. Sometimes you can see that same sad face, that same posture, on minor things -- like turning off YouTube or that the battery is all gone. But even if it's not unusual to reach that state, it's not the kid's default state and it's not the state that you want them to be in. An upset infant is an alarm for parental action.

If you don't have kids, aspects of raising kids can be difficult to imagine. Like our lofty dreams of a jet-setting baby, reality didn't quite match our theoretical imagination. And so, for those that may not understand, let me share a few things about our son at age almost two. He can't say his name. He knows Mama and Dada by our names, Mama and Dada. He says these names a lot.

He doesn't know his last name. He doesn't know his birthday. In fact, he can't really provide any identifying information about himself. This is part of why, if my wife and I go to the store with our son and one of us runs off to a different area of the store, our son frequently spends most of his time crying out for the missing parent. Without us, he feels lost.

There are immigrant children being separated from their parents. From the descriptions in the news, this includes children as young as my son, and younger. The image of that little Honduran girl serves as reminder of just how lost those kids are without their parents. When you experience a child's primal need for their parents, feel them cling to you for safety and protection in new, strange environments, you can begin to understand how truly cruel this separation is.

While politics, the news, and the state of the country are often on my mind these days, I try to avoid writing about politics here. Wading into politically sensitive topics has the potential to alienate and infuriate a segment of your audience or your customer base. These days, reactions can escalate far beyond what might have been imaginable in years past. That being said, every day, when I see my son, I can't help thinking about those families that are separated. I can't stop thinking about those little boys and girls who, probably more than anything else, just want to be with their mom or dad.

This is not who we are. Not as a country. Not as a people. Our government should not be separating families.  

I chose the above image because I thought his posture is evocative of the crying Honduran girl in the photo. But there is a difference. At this moment, our son was happy, holding a wooden airplane puzzle piece "up in the sky". He seems to remember his trip to Florida fondly.

When I think about our considerations and concerns prior to our trip, I'm reminded that traveling like this isn't something you don't do without deep consideration. And when I reflect on the challenges we faced -- and contrast that with the challenges that these immigrant families deal with on their journey to our border -- it begins to put asylum seeker into a contextual frame. This was not a trip that they chose to make because they wanted to, this was a trip that they had to make. After all of that, to be separated from your family? It's horrific.

This separation policy must stop.