Waiting on the World to Change

            With so many graduations going on this time of year, there are a lot of proud parents out there. I’m sure they’re (almost) always proud of their children, but a diploma gives them carte blanche to be loud about their pride, and rightly so. Personally, I foresee possibly getting thrown out for standing on a chair whooping it up when they call my son’s name, even though we’re supposed to hold our applause until the end. It’s definitely one of those milestones every parent looks forward to. Although I try not to rush time by thinking too much about the future, I find it’s helpful in raising my son on a day-to-day basis to step back as often as I can to keep in mind the big picture.

            When people have disagreements about raising a child successfully, you often hear the ones with grown children say, “Well, mine graduated [insert ivy league school here]” or “Mine graduated magna cum laude,” as if that trumps everything. With all our insecurities as parents, maybe that’s a simple way to confirm that we did ok. They graduated from college, end of story. Maybe they think their child is the one immune from being among the many stressed out, maxed out young adults walking around with a college degree. And maybe their child is. However, with the ever-increasing list of achievements teens are compelled to put on their college applications, chances are there aren’t going to be very many young adults who aren’t burnt-out by the age of 22. As parents, we’re not only contributing to this trend, we’re the ones setting it.

            What do you mean, Korina? We’re just doing what we have to do for our kids to be successful later in life. Tell me, if we’re not setting these rules, then who is? Certainly not the kids, but we keep using them as an excuse for our own past regrets and competitive tendencies. Maybe we think, If only I had gotten to play the violin from the age of six… or If only I had gotten to go to soccer camp… or If only my parents had pushed me to take all AP courses… So we do it for our kids without finishing those sentences for ourselves. So what if you had? That’s right, that’s what kept you from being the multi-talented, multi-faceted, good looking, multi-millionaire that you were destined to be! More likely, you might’ve been good at playing an instrument or better at soccer or had a leg up on some freshman college courses, but at what expense? Is racking up the longest checklist what our lives are about?

            For some people, perhaps it is. When I was in my mid-twenties I met someone who often – for years - brought up her SAT score in regular conversation. After being accepted to college, I don’t think I even remembered what my SAT score was. It was just a means to an end, not who I was. But apparently those four numerals defined her. Now that her daughter will be taking the test soon, I’m certain we’ll be subjected to a new generation of score keeping.

            Because sometimes that’s what it is, isn’t it? Keeping score, keeping up with the Jones’s, making sure your kid isn’t a single step behind anyone else’s kid. I think what we need to be clear about is that this need (and fear) is about us, not about our children. We can say we’re doing it for our kids; we just want them to be successful adults. But what is it that we really want for our children? I think we can all agree, we want them to be happy. That’s the bottom line. Even for those people whose identity depends upon which college their child goes to, they still want their children to end up as contented adults. So maybe we ought to step back more often and think about what makes us happy as adults.

            How many of us are happy being scheduled to the hilt, even for things we might enjoy? Yet our kids don’t even get the weekends off from schedules. How many of us want more time with our families? Yet mom and dad spend all weekend, every weekend split apart taking each kid to his or her sporting event. How many of us wax nostalgic about how we spent hours playing outside with our neighborhood friends? Yet we don’t allow that kind of free time for our own children.

            While we’re giving our kids every possible opportunity to excel, we might just be depriving them of the precious freedoms that come with childhood: the freedom to live in the present moment, the freedom to be creative, and the freedom to enjoy quality time with their family. Frankly, we’re cheating ourselves, too.

            I’m not saying we shouldn’t help our children be the best they can be. I’m all for being an involved, participating parent. The bar my parents set for my siblings and me was to stay out of jail and off of welfare. For the record, I think the bar ought to be a hell of a lot higher than that. But we don’t want our children growing up so single-minded in their quest for society’s notion of success that they end up like Suzy Lee Weiss, an angry high school senior who felt entitled to get into her first choice of college, and robbed when she didn’t. (http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424127887324000704578390340064578654.html) Or worse, Paige Aiello, captain of her college tennis team, who was accepted to nine law schools, but committed suicide just before her graduation. (http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/body-id-new-jersey-college-student-article-1.1339669).

            Those are extreme cases, but I see the next generation inching closer to those scenarios. Let’s stop with the excuses about why we can’t ratchet it down, scale back on extra curricular activities, and stop making our kids believe that their school test scores will be on “their permanent record.” On their permanent record will be whether they were kind, honest, emotionally healthy contributing members of society. They shouldn’t forever be quoting their SAT score in order to feel accomplished.

            Perspective might be the best thing we can give to our children. We seem to be telling our kids, “This is how the world works and you have to follow it.” What we could be saying is, “Make your world what you want it to be.” As parents, let’s lead the way.