Editor's
Note: This story has been reprinted with permission from The
Rhinoceros Times of Greensboro, NC.
So much of parenting is about guilt.
We of my generation were raised by anxious,
guilt-ridden parents. They grew up in the Depression and lived
through World War II. They knew what it was to be poor, to be
broke, to be hungry; they knew better than to ask their parents
for a thing, because there was no money.
Their idea of a date was to take the streetcar
to get an ice cream. Their idea of a party was to stand around
a piano and sing the latest hit songs together. Their idea of
a great Christmas present was a jacket that hadn't been worn
by an older sibling.
And they were grimly determined that their
children would lack for nothing.
So we -- their spoiled baby-boom children
-- grew up with a weird combination of being spoiled rotten
while being made to feel guilty about it.
"Eat this huge plate of food. Children
are starving in China."
"What do you mean you don't like hot
cereal? When I was a kid I went without breakfast and hot cereal
was a luxury."
"You better enjoy this vacation in
Disneyland. Your father had to work two weeks to pay for it."
"You're whining because you have the
best health care money can buy? When I was a kid with a toothache,
my dad just pulled it out because we couldn't afford a dentist."
"Look at our big new color television!
When we were kids, we had to sit and look at the walls and hum,
because we couldn't even afford a radio."
Free Spirits
So when we of the Baby Boom generation got
married, we were determined (a) to make sure our kids had every
single thing their hearts could conceive of desiring (because
we felt so guilty) and to make sure they never felt
bad about having it (because we hated feeling so guilty).
Weren't we the love generation? Our children
would know nothing but peace and love. We would take their side
in every dispute at school. We would never make them follow
silly rules. We would never say, "Because I said so!"
They would be free spirits!
OK, well, now they are. And it's terrifying,
isn't it? Our kids go out there and we don't know where they're
going, what they're doing, whom they're with, when they'll get
back, and whether they'll get pregnant, get date-raped, pick
up some hideous incurable disease, o.d. on drugs, or get killed
in a gang-related shooting.
Repression Is Looking Better
Now some of those horrible old repressive
rules our parents grew up with and sometimes tried to impose
on us (those Nazis!) are beginning to make sense.
That whole curfew thing -- now
we get it, don't we.
And chaperoning! Don't you feel a lot safer
if you know your irresponsible but post-puberty child is not
alone with that person of the opposite sex—especially
since that person was probably taught at school and in the media
that they can indulge themselves sexually any way they want
to.
Don't you want to scream?
But you can't do a thing, can you? Because
it would make you feel so horrible and guilty to be the only
parent who insists on a curfew.
How can you be the only parent
who calls up your kids' friends' parents to say, "My beloved
child is coming over to your house, he/she says, to take part
in a wholesome activity with your child. Is this true? What
adult will be there to supervise? When they leave, would you
be so kind as to call me so I know when to panic if my child
isn't home soon afterward?"
You don't mind the embarrassment of the
other parent reacting as if you were insane. Nor do you mind
your child's abject humiliation in front of the other children.
After all, this is about keeping your child alive, disease-free,
mentally alert, unaddicted, and reproductively inert. What does
embarrassment matter?
No, the thing that is just killing you is
that if you do these things, your child will be oppressed!
And you learned in the sixties and seventies that the worst
thing that could possibly happen to a child is to have parents
who keep them from "expressing themselves" and "pursuing
happiness their own way" -- parents who forget that it's
"their life" and "you can't possibly understand
them."
Here Is Your Parental License
I am, here and now, offering you absolution
from all your guilt over being an attentive, responsible, careful,
loving, and strict parent.
First: It is actually a terrific thing if
your child's desires are repressed. In fact, one of the main
skills that civilization depends on is the ability of its citizens
to delay gratification of their desires until an appropriate
time.
Like, not acquiring property that doesn't
belong to you until you can pay for it.
Or not engaging in potentially child-producing
activities until you're actually old enough and committed enough
and married so that you can guarantee such a child a two-parent
family for its entire life.
The other word for repression is
self-control. And here's how it's learned. First, your
terrible mean awful horrible parents keep you from
doing what you want.
Then, as you get older, you begin to realize
that your friends whose parents didn't stop them from
doing those things are now having horribly messy lives. You're
glad your parents kept you from doing it. Now you keep those
same rules yourself. You have learned to control your desires
because you now understand the consequences.
But during those many, many years when children
are too ignorant, inexperienced, self-willed, stubborn, or angry
to grasp the idea that really bad things can actually happen
to them, parents have to have the strength to say no,
to mean it, and to make it stick.
That's what happens when parents actually
love their children.
So when you find yourself worrying about
whether to put your foot down because you don't want to cause
your children to be "repressed," I give you permission
to say, "Live with your repressions, child! Live long enough
to go to a shrink every week for years, working through all
your 'issues' with your horrible parents. But you will be
alive because I am going to make sure these insane, self-destructive
desires of yours get good and repressed for the next ten years
of your life."
Nobody Else's Parents Do That!
Not only that, but my wife and I will perform
another service for you. When your child says to you, "Nobody
else's parents call their friends' parents to check up on them!"
you can answer, "Oh yes they do. The Cards do."
When your child says, "Nobody else
makes their kids wait till they're sixteen before they can go
on a date," you can answer, "Oh yes they do. The Cards
do."
When your child says, "Everybody else
can go to this concert without their parents insisting
on coming along!" you can say, "The Cards do -- because
the Cards firmly believe that the more a child wants his parents
not to come, the more certain it is that they will
come."
And when your child says, "I wish I
had cool parents," you can answer, "You do have
cool parents. Because when it comes to parenting, the only way
parents can be 'cool' is to care enough to keep their children
safe ... from themselves, from their friends, and from the dangers
in this world."
Trust for the Trustworthy
At the same time, of course, you have to
be keenly aware of your child's level of maturity. If you have
a kid who always tells you the truth, who does his homework
without nagging, who takes care of his assigned chores and even
does jobs around the house just because they need doing, and
who treats you and his friends respectfully, then it is not insane
for you to trust that child way more than you
would trust a child who has to be yelled at to get him up in
the morning, who is failing all his classes, who never does
anything you ask, and who lies to you constantly.
A trustworthy child should be rewarded with
trust. Not total trust, but more trust than
untrustworthy children should get.
Of course, it often works the other way
-- the children who whine and nag and lie and cheat often get
away with it because their parents are too unconcerned, too
intimidated, or too guilt-ridden to draw a line and make it
stick. While the obedient children are easy to overlook; it's
easy to find fault with them for the small things they do wrong
instead of realizing, Wait, this child is really great about
most things, so I'm going to cut him a little slack.
In other words, the kids who most need to
be kept on a tight rein are the ones most likely to have way
too much slack cut for them, while the kids who barely need
reins at all are the ones most likely to be kept from access
to the freedom they actually have earned.
But hey, kids don't come with an instruction
manual. (Nor a warranty. Nor a refund policy.) We're all inventing
it as we go along.
Meanwhile, though, you have the
Parental License that I have just issued you. You can proceed
with the confidence that comes from knowing you aren't the only
ones who are actually expecting your kids to earn their freedom
by proving they can be trusted.