the corrections, or LESS extreme parenting

I just watched about 3/4 of Lisa Ling's Our America - Extreme Parenting.  It reminded me a little of my take away from Jonathon Franzen's book, The Corrections:  as parents we often try to 'correct' for how we perceive our folks messed up with us.  At some point along our developmental path, we become determined not to make the same mistakes they made. 

In fact, this is the premise of a new TV show, called I Hate My Teenage Daughter on Fox.  It's about two moms who had been bullied as young teens, but who 'parented' their own girls into becoming just the types of girls who tortured them when they were younger.  Ugh. Sounds awful.  

Anyway - for better or for worse, much of the reputation of psychotherapy is that it will lead clients to eventually blame their parents for something.  For example, if your parents were very lax about education and expectations regarding grades, you might grow up to think, "they didn't push me hard enough.  I wasn't challenged enough.  I'm not going to make that mistake with my kids.  My kids will be challenged to meet high expectation set by me.  They will be successful.  They will reach their potential."  Or maybe you had a parent who really favored one of your siblings.  You might think, "I will be totally fair with my kids.  Each will be offered the same opportunities as the other.  They will get the same number of hugs.  They will have equal chores.  No one will feel slighted."

Maybe it sounds crazy, but I've made a connection between this approach to raising children and some of what I learned working in hospice:  we have less control than we think.  Case in point - I remember the sisters in my neighborhood growing up who weren't allowed to watch TV and always had to eat the crusts of their bread.  They didn't turn out much different than the rest of us as far as I know.  Conversely,  I know another good friend of mine who was raised in a pretty lax household compared to mine (Beatles poster on the dining room wall - Gasp!)  and he went to undergraduate and grad school in the Ivy League. 

I'm not saying there is a direct correlation.  I am saying there is NOT a direct correlation.  Our kids are born with many innate traits, which we can support and love and nurture.  I've also read and wrote a little about the Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, a book that was published about a year ago.  The author, a mom/professor, advocates the "Chinese Way" of raising children.  Very structured and disciplined.  She goes on to say one daughter was able to bend to this discipline and another rebelled against it. 

What I'd like to propose is that if we have some aspect of raising our kids that we are really digging in our heels on, like anything, it's good to look at it a little closer to make sure we're really doing what we want to do.  It's worth looking at whether we are seeing the child in front of us, or seeing our own selves as a kid.  If we're seeing only ourselves and the hurt we felt, it might be that we are trying to get our own needs met through our kids.  Talk about needing therapy later. 

In raising our children, I am in no way advocating an all laissez-faire approach all the time.  I'm just saying that in raising children, like in all things, we usually have more choices than we think and less control than we imagine. 

the outsiders

The elementary school I went to from Kindgergarten through half of 5th grade was Pierremont Elementary school in Manchester, Missouri.  I loved that school.   I remember our gym teacher, Mr. Lowry, pulling kids' teeth when they were loose. We all dreaded it, but longed to have a tooth pulled at the same time.  I remember he'd send us through 'the spanking machine' on our birthdays...this entailed the entire class lining up to spank you as you crawled through their legs.  I loved the gymnastics team, I loved music class with Mrs. Lippi and how we always saw a film called "Dans Macabre" by Camille Saint Saene around Halloween.  I loved the librarian Mrs. Kirkpatrick and the books she picked out for me.  I loved that a stuffed Santa Claus came alive and walked around in Mrs. Smith's Kindergarten class.  I loved that I was Mrs. Birmingham's teacher's pet.
But in a lot of ways, I was a weird kid, I think.  I remember kids inviting me to their birthday parties and not wanting to go.  I remember them inviting me over to play and my mom saying, 'just give so and so a chance.'  I hated the game 'girls chase boys.'  At the sophisticated age of 8, I found it undignified.  At least one school year I chose to take recess in the library to read, rather than have to put up with girls chase boys or boys chase girls or whatever.   I guess I was a nerd.  I guess I was an outsider, in some ways.  I felt like an outsider, but not in a way I experienced as hurtful.

I went to a great training last week given my Dr. Marsha Linehan on "Mindfulness, Willingness, and Radical Acceptance," and though many concepts were helpful to me, one idea that she talked about that I want to write about is the experience that many people have of being an 'outsider.' 

At Pierremont, I was given a great gift.  I was an outsider, but I don't remember ever being treated like that - by students or teachers.  I remember kind of being accepted for being an outsider.  Celebrated even.  I don't know what combination of character traits in the students, in the  teachers and in me came together to make this happen, but it was a huge gift.  I felt the freedom to make the choices I wanted to make, like stay in the library at recess, and no one said, 'you're weird, you're bad, you need to be more like some one else.' 

I moved to a different elementary school January of my 5th grade year.  One of my gym teachers, Miss Furlong, at Pierremont pulled me aside before my family moved, "you are going to do just fine at your new school.  Just be yourself.  Everything will be okay."  I remember it so well - where we stood by the doors to the gym, the way the light fell on the gym floor from the windows.  I felt like she was really talking to me like a grown up.  I am getting verklempt even now! 

Some 'outside-ness' is based on how a person looks on the outside or an outward  expression that is other; but many people who would appear to be 'insiders' also feel outside.  And,  if you feel other in a way that feels bad to you, it is no small thing to work through. Conversely, sometimes, I think we get a strange comfort in feeling we are outside and use it as a way to judge others or feel superior to them.

The question is, what might we do about it or with it?  The sad or negative feelings about being 'outside?'  I think a place to start is looking for the similarities between ourselves and other people.  Maybe especially people we don't like or don't think we like.  I saw Lisa Ling's Our America, about plural marriages in Morman Utah.  Some of the Mormon women have allied with the GLBT community regarding marriage rights.  You'd think they wouldn't have a lot in common, but one of the Mormon women said, "when we got to know one another, we really did."  I thought this was interesting. 

I also think it's worth taking the time to wonder what made us feel other in the first place - I've seen so many sensitive, compassionate, intelligent people feel separate and in pain - I think it's worth an honest look in ourselves to see the goodness and do the hard work to let go of judging messages we took on at a young age. 

I think it's do-able - I think it's important or I wouldn't write about it.  I feel like I had the good fortune of being celebrated for being an outsider when I was a kid.  I think it's something worth celebrating in all of us.