Rule #51: The Cowardly Lion Rule
What makes a King out of a Slave? Courage.”
—The Cowardly Lion, The Wizard of Oz
As I watch the tragic events unfolding in Ukraine, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about courage—what it looks like, where it lives, and whether we’re still teaching it.
The citizens of Ukraine are showing us what courage truly is. Against staggering odds and with almost certain risk of death, they fight—not because they want to, but because they must. Watching them, I’m humbled. And I’m worried.
I wonder: Do we still have that kind of courage in us?
Not just in our soldiers or first responders—but in us, as a people? Are we teaching our children what real courage is? Or have we become too comfortable, too insulated, too soft?
Comfort is a Liar
Let’s be honest: most of us are more concerned with Netflix password sharing than actual existential threats. I’m guilty too. When your biggest problem is whether your food delivery app has your usual order saved, you start to think that keeping your life as it is is more important than standing up to anything that threatens it.
We’ve drifted—from being dangerous people who could survive the world, to protected people who fear being offended by it.
Our kids are growing up expecting level playing fields, and sometimes even ones sloped toward their goal. They’ve been taught that their rights are sacred, that being offended is a crisis, and that the score doesn’t matter because “we’re all winners.”
That scares me.
Because courage isn’t born on a level playing field.
Courage is born when things get hard—and you stand up anyway.
A Little Too Much Lori Loughlin
When I saw celebrities bribing their way into elite schools, I wasn’t just outraged—I saw myself. It feels good to use what you’ve earned to smooth the way for your kids. Who wouldn’t want to move obstacles out of their child’s path?
But the problem is, obstacles teach us how to be strong. If you clear all the debris for your kids, they never learn how to push through it themselves.
Watching the Ukrainians fight for their lives, I wonder:
Did I do more harm than help by making things too easy?
Teaching Dangerous Courage
I don’t want my kids to be thugs. I don’t want them picking fights. But I do want them to be dangerous—in the best sense of the word.
I want them to be dangerous to injustice.
Dangerous to despair.
Dangerous to apathy.
I want them to be the kind of people who know how to take a hit—and get up.
Who know that failure isn’t the end of the world—and mockery isn’t fatal.
Who can stand up to evil—even when it’s not obvious, or when it’s cloaked in power.
Life doesn’t owe them anything.
And we as parents don’t owe them an easy path.
We owe them the skills to navigate the hard one.
Because life is hard. It’s unfair. The good guy doesn’t always win.
And sometimes you get fired. Sometimes you lose everything. I know—I’ve been there. Twice with a negative net worth. Fired nine times. And still here.
That’s what makes me dangerous—not my ability to throw a punch, but the fact that I know I’ll get back up.
That’s what I want to pass on.
The Courage to Get Back Up
I want my kids to know that falling isn’t failure—it’s practice.
That pain is a teacher, and scars are notes in the margins.
That life is going to hit them. Hard. And they better be ready to hit back.
Courage isn’t about not falling. It’s about getting up. Again. And again. And again.
Let’s stop cushioning every blow. Let’s stop pretending life is fair.
Instead, let’s raise our kids to be fighters—with compassion, yes, but also with grit.
Let’s teach them that true victory comes through persistence, not protection.
Let’s help them become just dangerous enough to handle a dangerous world.
Love,
Dad