Ever since hearing about the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School last week, I have spent a lot of time wondering. Wondering why this happened. Wondering how it happened. Wondering what is wrong with the world today. Wondering where we, as a society, went wrong. And I haven't been able to determine what the answer is. What I do know is all the ways my parents went right when I was a kid.
My parents gave me an abundance of motivation to do the right thing. And my motivation was this: If I got in trouble at school, if I earned subpar grades, if I spoke disrespectfully to my elders, if I (insert any other show of bad behavior you wish here), I got my ass beat. My dad wore a leather belt every single day of his life and although I don't ever remember a belt whippin', just the possibility that it might one day happen was enough to keep me in line most of the time. I grew up with a weeping willow tree in my back yard (willow switches make excellent motivational devices, for those who don't know). My mom kept a yellow flyswatter on the top of the refrigerator for the sole purpose of making sure I behaved. There were spans of my childhood when I know I got more than one spanking a day - and you know what? I'm okay with that. More thank okay, even. I'm thankful that my parents loved me enough and cared enough about my development as a human being to make sure I didn't make the same dumb mistakes twice. And for as much trouble as I stayed in, my mom and dad spent twice that amount of time letting me know that I was loved. I don't ever remember a punishment without a talk at the end wherein my parents told me exactly what I'd done wrong, that they hoped it never happened again, and that they loved me.
My parents taught me very early on that in most every situation in life, there is a winner and there is a loser. And that it was okay if I wasn't the winner every time, just as long as I gave it my best. There was no such thing as non-competition soccer (basketball, baseball, football, etc.) when I was growing up. We showed up wearing matching t-shirts with the names of our team sponsors on the front (usually local banks, the lone car dealership in town, or the local Kiwanis club). We played hard. We listened to our coaches and did what they told us to. One team won and one team lost. And we shook hands with the opposing team at the end of every game. If I whined and complained about not getting to play enough or play a certain position, my parents didn't have a come to Jesus chat with my coach. My parents suggested that I practice more. My parents came home from work, worn out from a hard day paving roads or serving meals in the school cafeteria, and they got out in the yard with me and hit grounders and fly balls and pitched overhand to me. They knew my coach wasn't responsible for my success at my sport of choice; and they didn't blame him or her when I didn't get my way. With that, they taught me that I'm the one responsible for my successes and failures - not my coach. Not my teachers. Not my bosses, neighbors, friends, or enemies.
I wasn't allowed to dress however I wanted to, to do whatever I wanted to my hair or my body. My parents didn't treat me like a grown up. They treated me like a child. They paid for those clothes and hairdos and if they didn't approve, then it didn't get bought or done. I believe we focus far too much on treating our children like little adults and not enough on treating them like children. Children need direction, guidance, and training. They need a routine and discipline and motivation to make the right choices. And they need to be told no. That doesn't happen a lot these days. If little Joey wants to wear his hair all swooped around and down in his eyes because that's how all his friends are wearing their hair, then that's fine because he's expressing his individuality. I wasn't allowed to express my individuality until I could afford to pay for those expressions on my own. And an allowance for making my bed and sweeping the kitchen floor? Think again. Those were chores. Those were things I was expected to do because I slept in that bed and I helped to dirty that floor. My parents taught me that everyone needs to earn his or her own keep in this world.
I grew up during a time when I wasn't connected to all 500 of my "friends" and to the world at large 24 hours a day, seven days a week. If I wanted to know what my friends were doing/eating/watching/thinking/listening to, I called them from a landline telephone with a cord running between the receiver and the cradle (if they were allowed to talk on the phone on school nights). Otherwise, I waited until I saw them at school. And since I was motivated to not get in trouble for socializing during class time, I had to wait until lunchtime to chit chat (at an acceptable volume) with my pals. All of this gave me a LOT of time to do my homework, read, or spend time with my mom and dad. To talk to them about school and friends and family or learning to shoot a gun, string a bow, or change a flat tire. My parents knew what was going on in my life because we talked to one another all the time. There are days now that when I go to bed, I know that I have interacted more with my Facebook timeline than I have with my husband and son. And that makes me sad. The world was a much bigger, more spread out place when I was a kid. And I will do everything in my power to make sure that the world seems just as big to my son.
So, as I continue to pray for those parents who lost children and for those people who lost loved ones last Friday, I also continue to try to come up with a way to protect my boy from the evils of this world. I know I have to let him grow up - that I can't keep him in a bubble forever, no matter how badly I want to do just that. But I can remember all that my parents did right and try my best to do many of the same things for my little man. I think it's time to unplug - to shut off our phones and open our ears. To live more simply and at a slower pace than we have been. To always remind our children and ourselves that people matter more than things. And to never, ever let a day pass without letting those who mean the most to us know exactly how important they are.
