Of mean girls and little princes

I have thought about at length and with great frequency how incredibly difficult it is to raise children.  Not just to have them, but to make a real effort to raise them, teach them, guide them so that they might become upstanding citizens and productive and helpful members of society.  My grandmother used to tell us that she told her children, our parents, aunties, and uncles, that she was “always going to love them but that is was [her] job to get others to like them.”  We used to laugh at that as we imagined our parents as little children running around, acting a fool, and wreaking havoc on Grandma’s home. 

But I have my own two little mermaids splashing all over the house and now that we are a household with four crazy, intense personalities I can see the need on a daily basis, really on a minute by minute, to empower these people to make good decisions, to inspire empathy, and to provide them with a world view in which they are not the sun, the moon, or the stars, but kindhearted people who care about their neighbors and all mankind. 

And that, my friends, is the hard part.  Because we are living in a culture where telling our children that they are indeed the sun, moon, and stars, little princesses, “my own little man,” oh so special,  is so prevalent.  I have no argument against allowing children to feel special and good, to celebrate their achievements, true achievements not just forgoing the beating of their little brothers or sisters down to the ground or going to bed finally after begging for three or four reprieves.   What I am talking about is the constant drilling, reminding, cajoling while loving, supporting, guiding that helps children find their own way to kindness, to strength, to self-awareness, and awareness of others.  I know, I do, that after a long day at work, in the trenches at home with small people, juggling all that life tosses in, that spending that time with a whiny one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, whatever year old not just reminding them to say please, thank you, hello, and goodbye, but ingraining in themselves the sense of community and camaraderie that can make the world a better place.

I have seen absolute terrors on the playground, in the grocery store, and at the public library and wondered, “Do these parents know that they are living with a mean girl?  Do they know they have created a little prince with no interest whatsoever in engaging with their peers from anywhere but the throne?”  When my oldest suffered some indignity on the playground by a total bitchy brat,  an eight year old meanie, I sought out her mother, only to find her nanny chatting away on the telephone, clueless to the girl’s bullying tactics.  It got me thinking.  Do people leave their children with other people and then assume or hope that the lessons one would hope to instill are being taught?  Or do they not even realize that there are lessons to learn at every age and that they are not being learned?

I lived in the Caribbean for two years and while I did see birthday celebrations that rivaled Celine Dion’s stage sets in Vegas, I also learned that Caribbean parents and certainly grandparents “don’t take no mess.”  Are the women, many of them Caribbean, left in charge of these unguided cherubs being expected to raise them up as their own?  Because I highly doubt that what needs to be done would be allowed.  And I am in no way talking about corporal punishment.  I do not like spanking or hitting unless it immediately stops an incredibly dangerous act.  For example, I have swatted the girls on the bum if they have run into the street.  We spend a long time talking about why we do and don’t do things, come up with examples from Mommy and children, think of new ways we could handle situations, and hopefully grow together.  But this takes discipline, commitment, sometimes a stern voice, a strong tone, something that it seems many are nervous to take with Little Princess or Wee Prince.

Are we Americans just too lenient with our children?  Do we hold them to a standard far below the standards of parents in other countries? Perhaps it's that we hold ourselves to a lesser standard, caring less about compassion, unity, consideration and more about success and winning.  It seems that every few months a tome from another culture, community, or country alights where we are, if not failing, faltering.  When I am bugging out over some kiddie’s bad behavior on the playground, I always seek out the parent.  I want to see them, want to know, want to understand.  I know it sounds like judgment, but it isn’t meant to be so.  I just know that a little one only does or says or acts in a way that he or she has been allowed.  When I stumble upon a parent whose head is buried in a smartphone or ear is turned to a good chat or is not there at all, I wonder if that parent has considered how his or her behavior has affected the child.  Sure I know I could be catching them at a bad moment, an necessary phone call, an emergency but very often it is the same few perpetrators.

My girlfriend from El Salvador told me that there is a saying, "Mothers raise their daughters and love their sons."  Little boys who are not held accountable for their actions, their words, being told, "You know how boys are" as an excuse for really inappropriate, impolite, disrespectful behavior.   Little boys who take no responsibility for their actions, don't say hello or goodbye to others, come into another's home and break toys, open the refrigerator, flop on the couch shoes and all, don't have home chores or responsibilities appropriate for their age make me cringe.  Because it stirs in me the fear that this behavior will be perpetuated throughout his life.   How could he not feel like the king?  The space has been cleared all around him.  He will come into contact with people feeling no responsibility for his actions, not recognizing their needs, or the role he might play in making their lives better or worse.  Because he will not see himself as part of a community, but as a solo flyer.  A sea of solo flyers where everyone is a star ace does not bode well for community-building or peace.

My girls love to dress up like princesses and dance around like ballerinas.  They also like making things and playing soccer and drawing.  I am taking nothing away from the joy of being young, little, creative, imaginative thinkers when I ask them to help me set the table, clear their plates, clean their playroom, carry their own backpacks.  When they are asked to speak to adults, strangers to them but familiar to Mommy, they are happy to speak up.  They are certainly excited to talk to their grandparents and aunties and uncles and familiar faces.  We have tantrums and meltdowns and crying spells and fights like all families with kiddies, but we are respectful of each other and others.  We don't throw our garbage on the floor or out the window.  When we drop things, we pick them up.  When we hurt someone we apologize and we know before being told that what we have said or done just might have  been hurtful.  Even if we didn't think it was, we apologize anyway because we can see that we have hurt someone.

My girls have felt the sting of cruel words and shoves and would never want another to suffer them as they have.  I suppose I have too which is why this selfish, disconnected behavior bothers me so.  It is okay to pretend to be a king or queen for the day, but the fun in that is having the knowledge that most of us live below that exalted line where we just don't have to give a damn.  We should give a damn.  All of us should give a damn.