I really love this piece, Parenting in the Age of Paranoia: A Small Manifesto. The author says a lot of things that I agree intensely with. Many sentences left me nodding firmly to myself. Like this one:
We do our child a great disservice when we protect them from all risk and harm, as great as letting them go into the world unable to read.
Um, yes. I agree with this absolutely. I think the thing that the author said that was new for me, though, was about how the social norms of today make her self-conscious about being the kind of mother she wants to be:
Horribly, my social group is creating a construct whereby I can’t easily give my daughter her freedom without sending her the message that I don’t care about her. This is a first attempt to strike out against that. When enough parents are saying they restrict their children’s freedom out of love and responsibility, I have to defend my desire to let my kid experience new things- it’s not indifference and negligence. It’s being the kind of parent I would want to have, and putting her as a person above my own desire for comfort.
I am so familiar with this. The stinging criticism I endured when I let Grace fly alone (twice so far), for example. Or the raised eyebrows when I tell people I take her biking on busy streets, or let her walk to the general store alone in Marion. I’ve been chalking these reactions up to my own sensitivity, my own anxiety about my choices. But Quinn makes me realize that some of this is about the social environment, too.
The article renews my commitment to raise children who trust their own instincts, who feel safe and masterful in the world, who know what it is to fail without someone there to pick them up within four seconds. I believe that all of these experiences are incalculably valuable for a child. I also believe they are hard for the parent, both because it’s difficult to see our children hurt or failing and also because we endure the judgment of much of today’s parenting community.
There are, as Quinn reminds us, no guarantees. I think back often to my first pregnancy, when I just wanted to get to 12 weeks so the risk of miscarriage would go down. Then I wanted the triple screen blood work to be normal, then the 18 week ultrasound to be normal, then to have a full-term pregnancy and to deliver a healthy baby. At each milestone I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling that some major risk was now over, that I was closer to the safe and secure reality of a healthy baby. And then Grace was born. And I realized, in a few days or weeks or months, that, oh my God, the risk is never gone. She could get sick. She could get hurt. All kinds of trauma could befall. And, as Quinn also says, something bad could happen to me. There are no guarantees.
This is not a reason to protect her (or him) so much that they are ill-equipped for life in the real world. My conviction that the world is a fundamentally good place is sturdy. It has been called naive. But I really believe it, in the marrow of my being. And so I don’t want to teach either of my children to fear the world. No. I want them to dance out into it, confident and brave, full of skills to cope with inevitable setbacks. I want to send them out without safety net so strong they never venture far enough to experience it onto their own. I am so proud of my children when they demonstrate independence. So very proud.
They don’t belong to me. On that I am clear, the crystalline, sharp clarity of sunshine on icicles. No way. I brought them into this world and that is all. One of my favorite bloggers, Jenn of Breed ‘Em and Weep, said this best of all:
I want you to grow up central only to yourself. I want you to find your center, to be your own pivot, your own point of balance, your own anchor. I don’t ever want you thinking you are the center of the universe, and be shocked to find that it is not at your beck and call.
I’ve long loved the story that Warren Buffet said he loves his kids too much to leave them enormous inheritances. This is a similar philosophy: I love my children too much to handicap them with overprotection. I love them so much that I continue to challenge myself to let them go a little bit, knowing that that letting go lets them build muscles, physical and emotional, that will help them stand steadily in life’s waves. To let them go I have to trust them. And myself. And I do.
Here we have the perennial parental dilemma. How do we love with all our might, protect our little creatures from the ubiquity of harms that await them while also letting them go, letting them become strong and sturdy individuals? I do not pretend to know.
I also ponder this often. It's brought to my attention daily as I drive down my street behind a school bus who stops at EVERY driveway to pick up a child. We used to have 7 kids at my bus stop. We walked 10 houses to get there. We walked ALONE. Our parents taught us to be careful. Taught us to look both ways. And then they let us go. Parents today don't let their kids learn ANYTHING on their own for fear of failure. And in the end, it's definitely to their detriment. But I struggle with it too. I worry more than I should. I hover more than I should. It's just so hard not too! Thanks for the eye-opener once again!
"I love my children too much to handicap them with overprotection."
Lovely, Lindsey.
It seems to me that parenting is a constant exercise in letting go – from the moment we first hand over our newborns into the arms of the delivery room nurse. The more practice we have, the easier it is on us and on them. Or so I tell myself.
Lindsey, this is a major struggle for me. While I'm awe-struck by how much of a unique individual my almost 3-yr old boy is, everyday, my instinct to hold tight defeats my common sense to let go. I admire your example.
YES. We cannot smother our children with overprotection. We want to, of course. But we do them a great disservice. I like the idea of the pivot. Right now my youngest daughter is learning to walk, and she literally pivots like a pro basketball player. It's hysterical to watch, and next time as I giggle I'm going to be thinking about how she is growing into her own self and finding her way. Oh the mixed emotions of motherhood.
i really enjoyed this post…left me reflecting a lot on my parenting philosophies, values and how to implement them…in so many ways i'm over-protective and in other ways i fear i give my children too much freedom and want them to be overly trusting in areas maybe they should have fear? i'll have to read that book you mentioned and mainly just trust my intuition…thank you for a thought provoking post!
This is one of the hardest parts of parenting – walking that fine line between protection/safety and letting go/independence. I have always erred – if indeed it was an error – on the side of independence. I get looks all the time from parents to this day.
Yet, my children go away to college and can read the bus schedule and get around without the prerequisite car that most in our area have and want to take with them.
You are doing fine!!!