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abundance, discipline, Gen X, growing up, healthy adult, helicopter parenting, maturity, millennials, modern parenting, parenting, red pill, rites of passage, SAHM, self reliance, single parenting, stay at home mom, working mom
In a post a few days back about a real life red pill conversation I had with a gentleman in his 60s, I didn’t include a story he told me then that I think really illustrates how much things have changed when it comes to parenting and raising kids in the United States today.
He told the story of helping out a local farmer every summer as a kid. He’d go in the morning, starting at 10 years old, and spend the day with the neighbor. The tasks were age appropriate, for example at 10 he would ride along on the hay baling machine and jump on and off to open and shut gates, and do various other small tasks a child can easily do but that are very helpful to getting the overall job at hand done in a timely manner (if the driver is hopping up and down opening and shutting gates all day, well it slows things down versus little Jake riding alongside, spending the day outdoors, watching older boys and men work, and learning to be useful.)
As he grew, he took on more tasks. Tasks he had watched the older boys get to do with envy before. (Buck hay bales! Run equipment! Drive the tractor!) They became rites of passage, tangible signs that he was growing up. Mastering them was a privilege, not a chore.
For his help, Jake would get $2 a day. Now this was likely sometime in the 50s, so that wasn’t such a bad wage back then, he says, and by the end of the summer he could have $100 saved up. What did he spend it on? School clothes. Such an idea today may seem unthinkable — making a child earn and buy their own school clothes? God forbid! That’s borderline abuse! But Jake didn’t see it that way, in fact his eyes twinkled as the memory came back to him of being a kid, flipping through the Sears and Roebuck catalog, and picking out “his” school clothes.
As he put it, “I could buy way better looking school clothes than my parents would buy that way, and I got to pick them out myself,” he said with obvious pride.
Jake grew up, served in the military, married, ran a small business, raised a family of his own. He’s comfortably retired now (No pension or retirement plan either mind you, he saved that out of his self employed, self created earnings!) in his mid 60s, a self made man with a loving wife and self sufficient, well adjusted kids, respect in his community, and few worries. Jake has had and lived a successful life — in many ways he embodies, “The American Dream.”
Contrast this with recent a tale from another family, this from customers in their mid 40s, a very, very nice couple, childhood sweethearts, with two teenage boys, 18 and 16. As we talked about their oldest preparing to start college next year, I said how proud they must be of him. Uncomfortable silence followed.
“Yeah, we’ve got good kids…” they said, not finishing the sentence. I sensed there was something more. So I gently probed. Was he in trouble? Acting out?
“No,” they said. In their minds it was almost worse — their son started collecting Pokeman cards as a child, and still to this day it is still one of his core activities. Their younger son, 16, doesn’t want to even get his driver’s license. They aren’t sure why their kids are so passive, so reliant on them, so perfectly OK with NOT growing up. (No offense to any Pokeman collectors, please don’t take this personal.)
As we talked it dawned on me — unlike generations before, unlike Jake, these kids had grown up in a protective parenting bubble. There is in fact actually a movement to bring back that unsupervised, just kids, roaming around outside and engaged in imaginary play, playtime. Apparently it is much more important to normal human development than anyone realized.
The mother shared of how she was always there for her boys, how when they played outside she watched them, how when they need to go somewhere she took them, how they had very little unsupervised time, how when they needed or wanted something (within reason) their parents supplied it. They were “good parents” by almost anyone’s definition.
The mom mentioned a neighbor lady who basically shoos her boys out in the morning, and spends her day cleaning house and cooking while the boys play. Unsupervised!?! Outside!?! It seems almost shocking by today’s parenting norms. Yet, this mom wondered out loud if…maybe she should have done more of that?
I mentioned how different childhood may have been for us compared to today, as Gen X kids, and asked if either of them had been latchkey kids, like myself. Sure enough, the father said he had, and that he wanted more for his kids. He and his wife worked hard and lived carefully to ensure she could be at home while their kids were growing up. And these are good people, good parents, I believe they had the best of intentions and were doing what the society at large said was, “the better way.” But now, they fully admitted, they think their kindness has crippled their kids, and they aren’t sure if it is too late or if not, what to do now? I could feel their pain, they want their kids to be happy, healthy, and whole. That’s all they have ever wanted. They don’t know where things went wrong.
It’s a common parenting reaction to one’s own lack, to go 360 degrees the other way, but I would urge the middle is a better place to aim to correct for what one considers their parent’s parenting mistakes of the past. Maybe they were too harsh, to easy, too whatever. The gut reaction is to either do the same, or to do the opposite. I’d argue the middle is usually better than the extremes of either end.
Jake and I marveled at how today what he did would not even be possible, except on the sly. Farmers can no longer hire local children under 16 to help out. And if they hire children 16 or older, they can only do so if they can pay them minimum wage. Today, it would be much more likely that a farmer would hire migrant farm workers, than a kid like Jake.
Is all this really progress? Is it good? Or have we lost something we may need to get back? Let me know what you think in the comments!
(Note: I also know people who are Jake’s age who worked on farms as children except unlike his experience, the kids were expected to do too much, the labor was too hard, the tasks above what they truly were developmentally ready to do. This approach, as far as I can see, backfires, and is not good, does not seem to instill the same self reliant work ethic Jake has. So again, the middle is the often the sweet spot.)
Notes From a Red Pill Girl 
I’ll add more when I have time later, but this generation of kiddos is definitely different. My Dad was raised on a farm. I mentioned he went to war at 17, but before that he pretty much ran the family farm, and he flew a crop duster. Yes, kids grew up a lot faster, and a lot more was expected of them. I think that’s the different. Dad’s mom never worked outside the home. Henry Ford owned a neighboring farm.
@ Liz, all of this has me reflecting on my own parenting style, which is admittedly more on the younger couple in the story’s side. I want to start nudging my girls more toward the middle, toward ever growing gradual self sufficency and self reliance.
That conversation with Jake went on for several hours, and we touched on sooooo much! Very illuminating. I may have to write more posts about the various facets we touched on, definitely food for thought!
My mom was raised on a farm, but experienced more the scenario I describe at the bottom, it was too much, too hard — she could not wait to get out of there and have nothing to do with farm life or ways. So with my own kids I want to avoid that, yet at the same time implement more than I do at the moment…hearing Jake’s version of working on a farm as a kid was a good balance to my mom’s…
I think just being raised on a farm is a lot better, Bloom. I reflect on my parenting, too…our boys run around free quite a lot, but we don’t live on a farm and we don’t ask much of them, comparatively. Fortunately they don’t have any interest in pokemon, or anything like that, nor social media.
My parents gave us a lot of independence, so long as we gave them no reason to pay closer attention. So I never had a curfew and was rarely punished. But I guess I was a good kid. I got above average grades without being badgered into doing homework, got my first job when I was 14, paid my own cell phone bill starting at 15, and had been doing my own household chores since I was 5, generally without being asked. It was a little different with my sibling, but neither of us is particularly dependent on our parents.
Except for one thing: I still don’t have a driver’s license and I’m in my 20s. But I take the subway everywhere and ask friends/family very politely if I’m really in need of a ride.
Lunar, sounds like your folks struck a good balance.
I have a good friend who was born and raised in very urban areas (Ontario, San Fransisco, New York City, etc) and she doesn’t drive either as having and owning and parking a car is not the same as in a suburban or rural area — it’s a major pain to keep moving that thing around and such. Perhaps this is similar to why you don’t drive — you don’t “need” to? (Always good to learn tho, before you get too much older, and learning just gets harder! Trust me, at 45 I think my learning banks are nearly full…I hand my cell phone to my daughter who instantly can reprogram it with ease…I am turning into my mom!!! Eeek!)
This is what today’s parents face for letting their child play outside independently 😦
http://www.freerangekids.com/mom-rejects-plea-deal-of-just-30-days-in-jail-for-letting-4-y-o-play-120-feet-from-home/
Yes I live in a major urban area. Definitely makes the car more of a hassle and expense. But I also just don’t like driving much. I had a permit as a teenager and never felt comfortable. Best to let someone else drive for now. If I move I’ll probably reconsider though
In contrast to the above, as a child my brother and I would spend HOURS outside, roaming around the big fields surrounding our home, searching for lizards and horned toads (this was in Arizona). Unlike where I live now, there were POISONOUS things everywhere, and I can clearly recall being in fields of waist high grass and hearing the “shhk, shhk, shh” sound of rattlesnakes warning us to stay away. Somehow we never encountered them, and I actually find the sound very soothing and relaxing, a pleasant memory (weird, I know!) We never were bit or stung by all the black widow spiders, scorpions, and oodles of other things we encountered during our lizard hunts.
We would also spend HOURS roller skating around the neighborhood on the sidewalks, ride our bikes unsupervised and several miles to the store and back to get candy, sell Girl Scout cookies or trick or treat door to door ALONE. We would walk to the park ALONE with friends, or to the school playground 1/4 mile away. We’d walk ALONE to the local pool and spend the whole day there ALONE swimming, going off the diving boards, etc. I don’t remember feeling neglected in the least, we had a blast!
I had perpetual scabs on my elbows and knees, constantly taking tumbles on my bike or skates or whatever as I pushed myself to take my skills up another notch (hands free! backwards! Jumps!) without a helmut, elbow, or knee pads (I am not even sure they were available back then!) and lived to tell the tale.
We’d play outside until the streetlamp came on, checking in occasionally to get something to eat or to go to the bathroom. It was pretty idyllic, really. Sadly I cannot IMAGINE letting my own kids do any of this today 😦 And even if I did, chances are some do-gooder would call the police and report me for neglect! Sad… really sad…
>> “In their minds it was almost worse — their son started collecting Pokeman cards as a child, and still to this day it is still one of his core activities. Their younger son, 16, doesn’t want to even get his driver’s license.”
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hikikomori
“Hikikomori is a Japanese term to refer to the phenomenon of reclusive adolescents or adults who withdraw from social life, often seeking extreme degrees of isolation and confinement.
[T]he government estimates 1.55 million people to be on the verge of becoming hikikomori.
The dominant nexus of hikikomori centers on the transformation from youth to the responsibilities and expectations of adult life. Indications are that advanced industrialised societies such as modern Japan fail to provide sufficient meaningful transformation rituals for promoting certain susceptible types of youth into mature roles.
In general, the prevalence of hikikomori tendencies in Japan may be encouraged and facilitated by three primary factors:
1) Middle class affluence in a post-industrial society such as Japan allows parents to support and feed an adult child in the home indefinitely. Lower-income families do not have hikikomori children because a socially withdrawing youth is forced to work outside the home.
2) The inability of Japanese parents to recognize and act upon the youth’s slide into isolation; soft parenting; or codependence between mother and son, known as amae in Japanese.
3) A decade of flat economic indicators and a shaky job market in Japan makes the pre-existing system requiring years of competitive schooling for elite jobs appear like a pointless effort to many.”
Both (1) and (2) are a part of Western culture since 1970s. And when it comes to (3) – Japan went bust in 1990s, and it took 20 years for hikki phenomenon to develop. Our moment was in 2008, so we might as well expect our own hikkies by 2030.
Those guys you mentioned will hit 30 by that time, right?
By coincidence, I’ve written a post scheduled for 5 hours from now in spawnyspace, about my nephew Wee Meddy. Some of it overlaps with yours here, Bloom. Great minds think alike, eh? Must be something in the air.
I grew up in the mountains, miles from nowhere. I reckon Jake and I have a few things in common. We’ll never run out of memories, blokes like Jake and I.
I know what you’re talking about here.
@ sergey sounds get similar! Interesting… In a not good way for those kids
My life was very similar to Lunar’s.
I’m the oldest out of either 4 or 6, (depending on whether you combine households or not) and was basically “mom” for the majority of the time we were home together. Latchkey kid all the way. Had neighborhood jobs since age 12, like babysitting, snow removal, cleaning elderly neighbors gutters and outside windows…even put in a pond with a friend’s help once. Got a “real” job at 16 to afford my car payments/insurance and save up to put myself through college. Left my parents house at 17.
Weird thing is…I had things like curfews and chore charts, and *had* to be in AP classes + high honor roll every quarter else else I invoke my parents/stepparents ire. But my brothers and sisters? Pshaw! No curfews whatsoever, could drink in the house from age 16 upward, didn’t get jobs til they were 18 (or older), 3 still live at home, each one of them needed summer school numerous times, and everything from their college courses to cell phones to expensive clothing was bought for them. Yet, somehow, none of them are happy.
I’m not so much bitter as just really frickin confused as to how both sides of my family changed their parenting styles so radically going from me to the siblings. It truly was a bizarre way to grow up.
I think if I ever changed my mind about having kids, I’d use the middle path of being there for them if it’s honestly needed but letting them learn as an individual for the most part.
It seems they learnt their lesson first time round?
What a “red pill kid” it is?
Lol. Maybe, Spawny.
As he grew, he took on more tasks. Tasks he had watched the older boys get to do with envy before. (Buck hay bales! Run equipment! Drive the tractor!) They became rites of passage, tangible signs that he was growing up. Mastering them was a privilege, not a chore.
This is a great comparison of the difference between parenting styles. On the one hand, there’s those of us who were raised to think of our growing list of responsibilities as just another aspect of approaching adulthood. Sometimes they were fun and looked forward to, other times you simply dealt with it, knowing said responsibility was what it was. Nowadays, there is a steadily increasing horde of young adults who simply. Aren’t. Growing. Up.
And no, I don’t mean that they are still “kids at heart”…For crying out loud, I still play videogames and collect comic books. I mean they think they should be shielded from learning uncomfortable truths, that workplaces need mandated “safe spaces”, and that they should suffer no consequences for their actions. Oh, and that mom + dad (or the state) should pay for 90% of their stuff.
Tarn, it a weird and unfair thing I have noticed in life, the most capable oddly are often pushed hardest and helped least. The weaker (not saying your sibilings are, just in general) are coddled, given chance after chance, etc. not that I would want to be non capable but it somehow seems like a bum deal nonetheless! -ah well… At least we are highly capable 😉
@ Yoda, I am not really sure… One who “gets it?” 🙂 gets life, how things work, truly work, not how we wish they worked? I am probably stretching terms…
Indeed Tarn, those kids are in for a very rude awakening, or their parents are in for a lifetime basement dweller
The way I see it, one of my biggest jobs as a parent is to teach my kids “how the world works” and “what the rules are” rather than shield them from that reality. I mean, I love them, I will teach those lessons w compassion. The world will not. The lessons will be learned somehow… There is no escaping reality
These words of wisdom, from Paul Harvey, come to mind for this thread:
“We tried so hard to make things better for our kids that we made them worse. For my grandchildren, I’d like better.
I’d really like for them to know about hand-me-down clothes and homemade ice cream and leftover meatloaf sandwiches. I really would.
I hope you learn humility by being humiliated, and that you learn honesty by being cheated.
I hope you learn to make your own bed and mow the lawn and wash the car. And I really hope nobody gives you a brand new car when you aresixteen.
It will be good if at least one time you can see puppies born and your old dog put to sleep.
I hope you get a black eye fighting for something you believe in.
I hope you have to share a bedroom with your younger brother/sister. And it’s all right if you have to draw a line down the middle of the room, but when he wants to crawl under the covers with you because he’s scared, I hope you let him.
When you want to see a movie and your little brother/sister wants to tag along, I hope you’ll let him/her.
I hope you have to walk uphill to school with your friends and that you live in a town where you can do it safely.
On rainy days when you have to catch a ride, I hope you don’t ask your driver to drop you two blocks away so you won’t be seen riding with someone as uncool as your mom.
If you want a slingshot, I hope your dad teaches you how to make one instead of buying one.
I hope you learn to dig in the dirt and read books.
When you learn to use computers, I hope you also learn to add and subtract in your head.
I hope you get teased by your friends when you have your first crush on a boy/girl, and when you talk back to your mother that you learn what Ivory soap tastes like.
May you skin your knee climbing a mountain, burn your hand on a stove, and stick your tongue on a frozen flagpole.
I don’t care if you try a beer once, but I hope you don’t like it. And if a friend offers you dope or a joint, I hope you realize he is not your friend.
I sure hope you make time to sit on a porch with your grandma/grandpa and go fishing with your uncle.
May you feel sorrow at a funeral and joy during the holidays.
I hope your mother punishes you when you throw a baseball through your neighbor’s window and that she hugs you and kisses you at Hanukah/Christmas time when you give her a plaster mold of your hand.
These things I wish for you — tough times and disappointment, hard work, and happiness. To me, it’s the only way to appreciate life.”
🙂
I am not a parent. The one thought that rattles around while reading this is that those who weren’t happy with the way they were raised are unlikely to have kids.
RPG,
After reading that link, I am infuriated. Sending these CPS people to jail might be a good idea.
Well, from the above.
Our boys do share rooms and there are lots of homemade sling shots, and no new cars…so I guess we’re doing some things right. No meatloaf though. 😛
“After reading that link, I am infuriated. Sending these CPS people to jail might be a good idea.”
Yeah, it’s crazy stuff, Fuzzie. 😦
Liz,
Paul Harvey is brilliant at making the ordinary noble. I miss Andy Rooney too. 😦
Liz,
My mother made meatloaf that she was proud of. When my dad asked for ketchup it made her so sad and then mad.
Hm. I’m kind of in the mood for meatloaf now. I haven’t had it in a very long time.
Meatloaf delivered it is,
And, a second helping
@ fuzzie, that makes me sad that ketchup can be a dividing facto when it comes to meatloaf.
When my mom made meatloaf, it included a ribbon of ketchup squirted on the top for decoration. But it car aliased during baking and somehow I can’t do meatloaf wo that touch! Best of both worlds? Not sweating the small stuff in a relationship is a very good strategy, better than fighting about every little thing, no?
@ Liz, add a bit of teriyaki sauce into the meat/egg:crushed cracker bit. Mmmmm. A whole new level of meatloaf! (2 pounds ground beef. 1 egg. 1/2 package saltine crackers crushed fine, 2 tablespoon teriyaki sauce. Mix well. Squirt back and forth ribbon of ketchup atop loaf liberally. Bake @350 degrees for 45 min- 1 hr or till done. Serve w mashed potatoes and veg of your choice. Mmmmmm. Comfort!) Enjoy!
RPG,
It speaks well for you that you wouldn’t be put off by a request for ketchup. While I can’t remember my mother’s recipe, like most things that she applied herself to, it must have been more complicated that it needed to be.
A mechanic told me that his family complained about always having meatloaf on Fridays. Kneading the meatloaf was the only way for him to get the last of the stains out of his hands.
Sounds like an excellent recipe! Thanks Bloom. 🙂
“But my brothers and sisters? Pshaw! No curfews whatsoever, could drink in the house from age 16 upward, didn’t get jobs til they were 18 (or older), 3 still live at home, each one of them needed summer school numerous times, and everything from their college courses to cell phones to expensive clothing was bought for them. Yet, somehow, none of them are happy.
I’m not so much bitter as just really frickin confused as to how both sides of my family changed their parenting styles so radically going from me to the siblings. It truly was a bizarre way to grow up.
I think if I ever changed my mind about having kids, I’d use the middle path of being there for them if it’s honestly needed but letting them learn as an individual for the most part.”
Tarn, that sounds like my husband and his family. He was the oldest boy, had an older sister, but he was the one who had it extremely hard concerning rules and curfew and lots of chores that didn’t sound age-appropriate for me. BUT… he thinks it’s made him better because of it, and I can’t argue there… but his other siblings having no accountability or responsibility for their horrible actions and decisions (while he had to punishments for even the slightest infraction) didn’t help their lives or his relationship with him and his parents.
It is so weird how parents parent their kids differently. I get it that you have to make concessions for different abilities and personalities, but a lot of parents seem to take it too far.
“My mother made meatloaf that she was proud of. When my dad asked for ketchup it made her so sad and then mad.”
😦 wow! My mom always made it with ketchup either in it or on the side. Either way I remember ketchup. But yea Fuzzie, my mom would complain and complain about not getting “help” from my dad with the cooking, but then the one time I remember him helping, she threw a fit that he didn’t do it the “right” way!
And my mom really should have known better, she’s the one who taught me about how to respect men, but she didn’t apply it in her own marriage at times
And as a result, he NEVER helped her again… just refused to if she was going to be like that.
As the old saying goes: Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind …
“As the old saying goes: Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind …”
I adore my dad, and I love my mom, too, but even as young as I was, I could totally see that she self-destructed in that. I was really glad to see him constantly hold his ground through many ridiculous things she did.
Now I always say to friends that if they want their husbands to help, don’t criticize them when they do something for you!
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