The Game Face

Age 7. Practicing the
Game Face.

We all know about the Terrible Twos. If our own children were perfect, then we certainly witnessed them in other people’s children – usually at the grocery store. Also called “First adolescence,” this is of course that magical time during a child’s early development when the discovery of the power of the word “NO” – the feeling of exhilaration when standing up and walking – that irresistible urge to experience independence – are all rolled up into a tiny, fierce package that parents both love and fear. Both parents and children weather that period, but another soon follows: second adolescence, or the teen years. That time in a young person’s life when fangs appear to replace their normal teeth.

Parents who’ve been through both periods of drama and trauma have no trouble figuring out what’s going down at the time: the emotion of the moment is clearly written on the child’s face. We become expert readers: we know the faces of shame, anger, happiness, fear, desire. And in response, we learn an offset mechanism that seems to bring balance to the upheaving world around us: The Game Face. Surrounded by tumult, we steel our emotions, practice the art of the poker bluff, and silently hope for The Peaceful Years, whatever or whenever they might be.

The Peaceful Years eventually arrive. We tell funny stories about the early years. In general, we are glad those years are behind us – we are happy to see the confusion, upset, and out-of-control feelings we all had fade into the dim past. There’s no real reason to preserve it now, but The Game Face sticks around.

If you’ve mastered it, The Game Face is really useful in all kinds of situations. Take work, for example. This is a good one because I can speak from experience here. With my Game Face, I’ve effectively defused office squabbles, calmed angry clients, stood up to intellectual bullying and sexual harassment, delivered speeches to thousands, landed promotions, advocated fair treatment for myself and others. Over the years, my Game Face evolved into my All The Time Face. And while I always aspired to be like Clint Eastwood’s “Dirty Harry” Cool Cucumber persona, I came to realize that bringing it home with me worked against my best interests.

I like to research word and phrase origins, and one of my favorites is “letting one’s hair down” – to drop the reserve and let others get a glimpse of what you’re really feeling or thinking. As the years pass, I’ve found it harder to keep my Game Face. I find it kind of fun, actually, to give free expression to my private views. It’s even more entertaining to watch people react to the letting down of one’s hair. The big surprise for me was learning that letting my hair down makes me more human in the eyes of my family and friends. I always knew I was human, and worked hard to keep my foibles to myself. A little too hard. So now my family sees another me – the one who throws occasional tantrums, who feels (and shows) anger, and fear, and desire, but also great happiness. More often lately, I find myself doing a happy dance in the kitchen while making dinner, or in front of the fireplace on a nippy winter evening.

The time has come to fully set aside the Bluff – at least at home – and enjoy the results of my other face: the real one.