Posted in DemEd in Real LifeParentingTeaching on Feb 11, 2010 - 03:42 PM
Many of us who strive to nourish democracy in our society and strive tirelessly for equality, justice, peace and compassion have a break down in execution when it comes to our own home life. It's very easy for even the most mindful, progressive parents to replicate systems, dynamics, and roles we experienced in childhood, rather than the ones we aspire to create in our adult lives. Most of us working for in progressive education or for progressive causes didn't come from that experiential background.Our young children don't have access to our intellectual sensibilities or our academic pursuits regarding education, democracy, sustainability, or anything else. And they could care less. What they do have is us. Just us. As people. And we are, to these brave new souls, merely the sum of our actions and demonstrable attitudes. To create a nurturing household that reflects the society we dream of requires more than the mental gymnastics that have supported our studies, writing, lecturing, and professions. It requires the sort of personal transformation that reflects outwardly in our daily personhood. And there is nothing like our children's developmental predisposition toward adult emulation to point out how far we've come, or how far we have yet to travel.
My oldest son is in his 6th year of life. I'm flattered when he chooses his clothes to match mine or adopts one of my signature phrases as his own. I can feel the powerful inheritance of skill and wisdom when I notice that he holds his carving knife just as I do or he moves a spider to a safe place while his friends run away or try to stomp on it. But I feel dread when I see him get short-tempered too easily with his little brother, or raises his voice unnecessarily when he wants us to know he's angry, characteristics of mine that I often don't even know I have. It's these little reflections that make me realize I've been a role model who's asleep at the wheel.
So how do I avoid even these decidedly minor parenting foibles when by the time I realize I'm not being a not-so-great example of a balanced, mature, thoughtful man, he's already trying it on for size? Talk about needing to bring your A-game!
And so, I turn my game around. I try to focus less on what my children are or are not doing. I scrutinize them less and less, love them more and more deeply, as I dig deeper in my attempt to BE who I hope they can be.
Will my boys become warriors of peace, democracy, and joy? Wrong question. What have I still to become?
Tags for this entry:
role modeling,
mistakes,
maturity
Comments
Feb 12, 2010 - 09:54 AM
I couldn’t agree more with the points you make, Sara. Check out a previous post of mine on this blog called Lost and out of control. . . At last. where I unpack those issues a little bit. I’d love to hear your thoughts on those ideas. Thanks!
Feb 12, 2010 - 02:44 PM
I love this post, too. When you see your actions mirrored in a Mini-Me, it does give you pause, doesn’t it? Adults can forget how much their actions teach, whether they mean them to do so or not.
It’s such a good idea to model not only being a “balanced, mature, thoughtful man” but also how to correct course at the times you fall short of that.
I hope that more parents take your approach, trying to come closer to their ideal selves and letting that influence ripple out to their children.
Feb 13, 2010 - 03:13 AM
I will definitely check that out, Khalif!
Sara Schmidt
Feb 12, 2010 - 03:08 AM
I love this, Khalif. You’re absolutely right about our visions and actions for a peaceful world sometimes coming to an abrupt halt in our own households! My four-year-old has taken to copying some of my baser moments, particularly the phrase, “What the hell!”
These are definitely wake up moments to, as you said, turn your game around. Sometimes it’s all you need to reaffirm your commitment to being the best parent you can possibly be and to maintaining those progressive ideals within your home, too.
But I also think it’s a good teaching tool for our kids—a good experience for them to learn that Mommy and Daddy aren’t perfect, and they don’t have to be, either! By showing that parents can make mistakes too, especially if parents apologize afterwards, maybe they won’t feel as much pressure to not make mistakes, or feel as bad when mistakes are made.
Plus, the value of a good apology has taken a backseat—I never learned that art in my home growing up; our family battles always ended in fire, with the next day progressing as if nothing had happened. The respect and humility that come with admitting a wrongdoing or hurtful act are just as important as settling conflicts with nonviolence and expressing love.