I Danced on the Sidewalk. He Learned to Build Trust.

The lesson I didn't know I was teaching.

There I was, dancing in the middle of the sidewalk to a Diego song playing from my three-year-old's Big Wheel. I looked around for a second, wondering if the neighbors could see me. Then I figured, you know what? It doesn't matter.

My son, Adam, didn't care who was watching him dance in the middle of the sidewalk. He just cared that I was out there dancing with him, and that was what mattered.

The things we do as parents of young children, right?

We pretend to eat plastic food at tiny tea parties like it’s a five-star meal. We make animal noises in the grocery store because someone in the shopping cart wants to know what a giraffe sounds like. We crawl around the living room on all fours searching for dinosaur eggs.

We wear superhero capes, read the same book for the hundredth time, and stop everything to admire a bug on the sidewalk.

Why do we do all that? Because we know it matters. It helps our kids learn, builds their confidence, fires up their imagination, and creates memories they'll carry forever. But more than anything, those moments tell them something important: you matter enough for me to step into your world.

When Adam was little, someone mentioned that children hear the word “no” way more than “yes.” I don’t know if that’s exactly right, but it stuck with me. I didn't want "no" to be the first thing out of my mouth every time he asked for something.

So, I changed my approach. Instead of leading with "no," I started with, "Thanks for asking." I asked a follow-up question. I said, “I see where you’re coming from.” Then, I shared my perspective or explained why I was hesitant. And finally, (and this is the part I really like,) I'd invite him to help me find a solution that worked for both of us.

That might seem like a lot of work, but I had my reasons. I wanted to develop his character and his confidence. I wanted him to know his opinion and ideas mattered. I wanted to build a relationship where we solved problems together and where he could trust me, even when the answer wasn't what he hoped to hear. So instead of turning his request into a quick "no," I turned it into a conversation.

Did he get really good at negotiating? Oh, absolutely. But here's the thing: he was also learning to listen, to understand another person's perspective, to think about what mattered to someone else, and to look for solutions that worked for everyone, not just him.

As he got older, I started noticing him using these skills in other places too. Within a few days of each new school year, he seemed to figure out what was important to each one of his teachers – and they all valued something a little different. Once he understood that, he naturally adjusted how he interacted with them. He showed respect in the classroom and behaved the way each teacher needed, and that led to little moments of grace: flexibility with assignments around his sports schedule, a teacher who made sure to be available when he had questions, or a note home saying how much they enjoyed having him in class. 

As I watched Adam grow, I discovered we had been practicing something pretty amazing, and honestly, something much bigger than I realized at that time.

Our conversations started with curiosity:

What did he really want? Why was it important to him? 

Then came the harder part: listening well enough to actually understand his perspective, responding in a way that showed I heard him, and working together toward something we both felt good about. Looking back, those conversations were teaching both of us how trust gets built.

Years later, as I began researching the science of human connection, I kept seeing those same patterns show up everywhere. Whether you're raising a child, leading a team, serving a customer, or building a friendship, the process is pretty much the same.

That's what eventually became the CARA Code: a framework for using Curiosity, Attunement, Resonance, and Amplification to build trust and stronger relationships. It isn't just a parenting strategy. It's a human connection strategy. 

Now Adam is in his college internship. As he shares stories with me, I’ve learned that he’s doing the same thing he did growing up.

He gets to know each manager, figures out what's important to them, and responds accordingly. People trust him because they know he'll take the time to understand them. And when he has an idea, a request, or needs support, those conversations flow with ease.

As I watch him, I keep thinking back to that little boy dancing in the middle of the sidewalk.

I stepped into his world because I wanted him to know he mattered.

Now he's doing the same for others.