Pride v Humility

My 6^th grader recently had an assignment where she had to name one thing that she was proud of - “Mom, what am I proud of?”  I replied, “I can’t answer that for you.  You need to decide for yourself what you are proud of.”  She thought about it for a couple of minutes.  She then wrote down she was proud of her straight A’s last semester, which I agreed was definitely something that she should be proud of.

As parents we are in a very tough position.  We want to instill confidence in our children and a feeling of security about the things that they do.  We want them to recognize that their hard work paid off and that they have a right to be proud.  We believe that by instilling pride it will help their self-esteem and help them believe anything is possible if they put their mind and effort into it.    On the flip side, we also have a responsibility to teach our children humility and socially acceptable behaviors.  How do you accurately explain the tipping point between being proud and bragging?  For example, it’s ok to tell your teacher that you are proud you got straight A’s, but running around the classroom show your report card to all of your friends is not ok.  As an adult the slight social differences are evident, but to a child the boundaries are not so obvious.  They will quickly realize the difference when their friends start making comments or treating them differently. 

Teaching pride and humility is just one piece of the parenting pie. We also have to keep our own sense of pride in check.  Parents are emotionally tied to the performance of their children.  It starts from day one – this is my baby, it came from me.  The baby becomes a reflection of the job you are doing as parents.  As people compliment your baby (later your children), you take it as if they are complimenting you.  We can all admit that having someone validate the job you are doing helps settle those fears and anxieties that run rampant at 2 am when the baby is screaming and nothing is working.  We take pride in that validation.  As a result you start to link your child’s behavior and performance to your own validity as a parent.  At the same time we begin to project the kind of life that we want for our children.  We want “better” for them compared to what we had growing up.  We want them to be a “success” – which for some means athletic, artistic or musical excellence, while others measure success in the classroom.  There’s no argument that we all want what’s best for our child.  We want to protect them and guide them out of harm’s way.  It’s easy to let those initially good intentions, slide into expectations and high standards.  It’s at that point, in the name of Parental Pride, we reach a point where we might start pushing too hard for what we want, how we think things should be and for the best path we think they should take.

If you think about it, being a parent is the ultimate exercise in humility.  You believe your intentions are in their best interest, but that is your belief.  Your child may look like you or sound like you, but they are their own person.  A unique individual that you may be able to influence, but cannot control.  Recognizing, and accepting, that you cannot control the ultimate outcome will humble you.

Our children can also be our greatest teachers.  They question you, which may make you question yourself.  They challenge you - why do you believe that?  Why do you think that way?  They make you think twice about beliefs you have had for all your life.  They hold a mirror and reflect back to us.  In doing so, your children often show you what you most need to learn about yourself. 

There is no relationship like the one you have with your child.  The pride you feel is inescapable and will be like no other in your life.  One word of warning, be careful not to get so caught up in the pride, that you miss out on the humility and the chance to learn more about yourself than you’ve ever known before.

Heart-FULLy Yours, 

Kacey

Not like me

Our children are literally a piece of us and from the day they are born we are eager to uncover our similarities.  It starts by looking for similarities in eyes, lips, fingers or feet.  As the child grows, the link to similarities expands to their laugh, smile and curiosity.  Once they start school the tendency to look for similarities is second nature. Grades become tied to the ability, or inability, of parents, grandparents or distant relatives.  (Uncle Billy worked for NASA, so naturally Little Johnny is wonderful at science.)  Written out in this manner, it seems like a huge exaggeration.  Right?  We can’t help ourselves from taking pride in our similarities.   But, what happens when they are not like you?

Like many ten year olds, my daughter participates in multiple activities.  Not wanting to be the “tiger mom” (forcing her to do the activities that I want her to), I’ve let her decide.  A couple years ago when she said she wanted to play softball, I was excited.  Softball was a major part of my childhood, so this was definitely a “she’s like me” moment.  She enjoyed it, made lots of new friends and always did her best.  I was happy when she decided to keep playing.  This season she has become the girl who will try anything.  When the two team catchers were going to miss the same game, the coach looked for volunteers.  My daughter was open to trying it, put on the gear and ended up loving it.  I was excited to see her excited about playing.  We got her some gear and a great big bag to put it in.  I dropped her off excited to see how she would do that night behind the plate.  But when game time came, she was not behind the plate, she was on the mound.  What was going on?  She had never pitched a day in her life.  It turns out two of our pitchers were out of town and one had the flu.  No one else on the team had ever pitched before and without one we would have to forfeit.  The coach asked her if she wanted to try and she said sure.  And in that moment, she was not like me.  Growing up I was very competitive and I liked to be good at things.  I can’t imagine myself at ten years old going out in a game, doing something I had never practiced, in fear that I wouldn’t be very good at it.  In this moment she couldn’t have been more opposite of me and I couldn’t have been more proud.    

As humans we find comfort in people who are like us, who share our interests and who are understanding of our point of view.  As parents we naturally look for similarities with our children in order to relate to them and guide them through familiar territory.  What we learn is that through our differences, our children switch roles and end up guiding us.

Heart-FULLy Yours, 

Kacey

Be a Lighthouse

Earlier this week, my daughter came to me in tears.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sandra Day O’Connor’s face is smashed into her hair and one of the Justice’s head is almost completely coming off.” She said between sobs.  “It’s ruined!  I’ll never be able to get it back to the way that it was.  Why would somebody do this?”

I held her tight and let her cry it out.  The clay diorama she had worked so hard on had been messed with by another student in her class.  Apparently it had been going on for a couple days, starting out small but progressing as the week went on.  I tried to reassure her we could fix it, but the damage had been done, she had been disappointed by one of her classmates.  When she asked me why someone would do this I had to pause for a minute.  Why would someone do this?  My daughter is friendly to everyone, so though possible, this most likely was not caused by a personal grudge.  Chances are this was just someone messing around, thinking it was funny and trying to see what they could get away with.  After all it is fifth grade, there’s not always a lot of thought behind their actions.  There wasn’t much I could say to make it right, so I just held her tight and let her disappointment come out.  I encouraged her to talk to her teacher the next day and see if she could bring the project home to avoid any further damage.  She agreed that was a good idea and felt a little better knowing that she had a plan. 

Kids can be mean, that’s no surprise.  As parents we all know that these days are going to come.  Our children are going to have to learn hard lessons that are often hard to explain.  We have a choice on how we handle these situations.  Some parents take the “helicopter” approach – they hover over their children ready to swoop in at any time to protect and defend them from any situation where they might get physically or emotionally hurt.  My problem with this term is that we have to let our children experience these situations because it’s the only way they are going to learn.  As much as we’d like to protect them forever, we’re not doing them any favors when we do.

Dr. Kenneth Ginsburg suggests a new way of parenting:

“We should be like lighthouses for our children – beacons of light on a stable shoreline from which they can safely navigate the world.  We must make certain they don’t crash against the rocks but trust they have the capacity to learn to ride the waves on their own.”

I love that!  In his book “Raising Kids to Thrive: Balancing Love with Expectations and Protection with Trust”, Dr. Ginsburg uses the lighthouse metaphor to illustrate to parents the balanced approach they should take with their children.  It’s easy for us to forget that our children are born with an inner guide that will help them navigate through tough times.  As a lighthouse, we can illuminate their home base.  When the storm comes we can use our light to help guide them instead of taking over and steering the ship for them.

It won’t always be easy watching from the shore.  There will be times when we will be tempted to jump into the helicopter and rescue them.  If we can resist and force ourselves to stay back, the result will be much more rewarding for our children.  We may not always be able to explain why things happen, but at least they will gain confidence and see they are able to handle these situations on their own.

Heart-FULLy Yours,

Kacey