Adapt, Young Man

Jacob started Kindergarten last week. We went to the store together and bought him all the school supplies listed, and he was excited to start back to the learning part of school.

After a fun summer of field trips, splash days and lemonade stands at the school, its back to curriculum. I am glad he had fun, but its time to get to business. Future summers will include more sharpening the saw than this one, and it will be to his benefit.

All of these thoughts helped me focus words to my philosophy on parenting. If it were be boiled to its simplest description, we want to teach Jacob to be adaptable. For the longer description, you can keep reading.

There was a day when I picked Jacob up after Junior Kindergarten (I know, it's new to me too) and a teacher stopped Jacob from leaving until he cleaned up his mess. I was, of course, fine with this. He cleaned up his mess quickly and came back smiling to me for the short ride home.

The next day, that teacher apologized if I was upset by her insistence on making him clean. I was confused by that because I had made no complaint and had looked anything but angry about it. To the contrary, I told the teacher, I was very happy that she insisted it be done. I insisted that she continue to hold him to his duties.

I learned that other parents had not handled the situation so well and had made it an issue with management.

So, what might those children be learning? Well, I can thing of a few things. 1) That they can override a teacher's authority. 2) That the rules don't apply to them if they don't want them to. 3) That parents will swoop in to save them from any inconvenience. All three lessons for the child will begin the long atrophy process of the self-reliance muscle (if such a thing were to exist).

Now, lets take a quick look at what this example of "standing up for your child" can lead to. A child cried about it because he or she was fishing for a response (and likely expected one). A teacher was likely chewed out. A parent introduced stress into the home by (very likely) discussing the matter in a family setting. Corrective action was taken that led to apologies to ANY potential "victims" of the action and humiliation of the teacher, who did nothing wrong. And, a child learned how to skate by.

How much stress was this worth?

Meanwhile, our little guy dutifully cleaned up his mess and came running to me with a smile. Why didn't he cry? Because he knows we won't let him skirt his responsibility. I must say, I'm proud of him for being so adaptable. Of course, in this case, he was being merely responsible for his own mess. It's sad that even this basic thing got a teacher in trouble.

I have read many parenting articles, some books and have had many discussions about the topic. I have heard a wide range of approaches. I do not agree with all of them, but I do not condemn all of them, either. The ones I do reject for our own household, however, are those that utilize coddling and attempt to bend the world to the needs of a particular child.

Jen read one book that attempted to make the case that boys are being screwed over by a system that suppresses them and has become girl-centric. Her verdict was that it was all griping and no solving.

I, personally, don't care if the charges in the book were even true (although I doubt it). Jacob will learn to navigate the path at hand. He will learn do make the best of situations. We will, of course, try to set him on productive and helpful paths. But, we will not bend the axis of this planet to meet his preferences or comfort zones.

This topic reminded me of a long-ago conversation with my father. I had heard horrible rumors about my math teacher. He was mean. He was tough. He was too demanding and liked to embarrass those who were not prepared. My schedule included this particular teacher and I was not happy about it.

Dad's response? Well, after he heard my concerns, he calmly destroyed my argument. The conversation after my complaints were listed went loosely like this:

Dad: "You don't know that."

Me: "But this guy is terrible."

Dad: "Again, you don't know that. Do you believe everything you hear?"

Me: "No, but they can't all be wrong."

Dad: (laughing) "Yes, they can. Do you think everything said about you is true? Don't you think he deserves an honest chance? Don't be foolish. Judge for yourself. You may be surprised.

Dad: (with the finish) "Besides, you won't always like the people you have to deal with, so you better get used to dealing with it now."

The end result? Well, that teacher absolutely taught me that subject. He was tough, but fair. He knew his topic and he was energetic about it. He challenged me, but not unreasonably. Everyone kept bitching about it, but I learned it cold.

In short, they were wrong and the fact that attitudes remained the same only served to undermine their own learning. Thanks to dad's advice, I learned to adjust. To adapt. To make the best of a situation. And, it turned out, I would have avoided a great situation had my plan to bail worked.

Because adaptability requires practice, I was reminded about it in a big way in college when a professor who I respect, after hearing my concerns, told me without flinching to "grow a skin." Best advice I got in college.

Kids may learn in unique ways, and they should be encouraged in those directions. But, if you teach them to await the perfect environment, or avoid any uncomfortable or unfamiliar options or challenging situations, or (worse yet) to weasel their way out of anything but the optimal, then they will not thrive in society.

To make a sports analogy, sometimes you have to play hurt. And you can't make the game stop if you have a hangnail. You might spend your whole life waiting to be pain-free enough to compete. Besides, many folks don't let go of such a good excuse once its been identified.

Did I talk to Dad about my math teacher in hopes he would help me get my schedule changed? Absolutely. But, dad was not interested in saving me from every possible discomfort.

Instead, he was afraid I may learn to run away from hard realities. The world isn't perfect, and Dad didn't want me prepared for such a mythical place rather than the one outside our front door.