Loaning Stones

It occurs to me that teenagers really do need special care.

They're brittle. I don't mean physically so (in most cases), but profoundly so from an emotional standpoint. I'll explain why I believe that.

If someone calls me a name or implies that I'm foolish, ugly, stupid or unworthy, that creates a kind of microscopic identity crisis. After all, in my own mind, I'm not those things... but maybe the insulter is right? It creates that little inconsistency with my own personal story of me.

But that little assault on my self worth has quite the mountain to charge up to gain any traction.

I am a husband. I've been with the same woman since I was 19 years old. I've made our relationship work across years and thousands of miles. I am a father. I helped bring my child into the world, and I've been there for him since he could draw breath. We got through his colic, his terrible twos, his three-nage years and beyond. I taught him to tie his shoes, how to write, and how to be a good person. I am a son. When my father had a stroke during law school, I drove up 100 miles to help look after him every weekend after it happened. I am an attorney sworn to uphold the constitution. I've represented thousands of men and women in their darkest times, and stayed there through their suffering and shared their triumphs. I am a budoka. I've been in a dojo for 13 years trying to forge myself into the best human being I can be. I've done the work, endured the discomfort, and I have the gifts to show for it.

If you want to sell me a narrative that I'm not worthy, you'd better be one hell of a salesman because I've got plenty of proof to the contrary.

Most insults are droplets of water against the mountain that is my life's stories. In my law practice, I've often said that stories are my weapons. But they're also my armor. Against the backdrop of the story of me, the insults don't mean much, and I don't pay them much mind.

Many teenagers often don't have that kind of narrative as a form of psychological armor. They are unsure of their worth, and do not have as many "external reference points" to back it up. Even the things they know about themselves that should make them strong are unsure... a narrative that they haven't entirely bought into yet.

Things that would not cause me to lose a night's sleep can be agony to teenagers. It's easy to lose sight of that. I try to be mindful of that in my interactions with teens. Even if a teen says or does something utterly stupid, I remind myself of how they are and how we all started out that way.

Even if I have to take them to task on something, I try and do so in a way that uplifts and adds to their dignity and sense of worth. Instead of "I can't believe you did something this stupid," it's "I believe you have it in you to choose something more noble." It's not "who do you think you are?" but rather "who do you want to be?"

See, by my reckoning, we all have that story we tell ourselves about ourselves. If I was a better Buddhist, maybe I'd just tell everyone to let go of that narrative. But the reality is that doing so is no easy task. I've been trying for two decades with only limited success. With that in mind, I try and do the next best thing: I try and make my interactions with teens (and everyone else for that matter) positive chapters in the story of their being. I want our experiences together to be rocks that help form the mountain of their life, that will give them to strength to endure the world as it is when they become adults.

So the next time you see a young person doing something that draws your ire, think about the story you want to be part of, and the landscape you want to help build.

Parenting and Reality

Jack is energetic.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in how he manages his body. He never quietly puts himself somewhere when he could crash down there. He takes a very pure, simplistic delight in just feeling his body fly through the air in different directions, and then feeling the splash of impact when he lands (which he knows how to do safely).

This trait, which usually causes a smile, drew a frown when he crashed into his mother for about the forty-billionth time over the course of a weekend. You could tell Monica was about to jump him for it, but I decided it was time for the patented 10,000 lbs. hammer of truth.

"Jack, have a seat and look at me."

He did so. He's developed a keen ear for when I'm not screwing around, and behavior to match.

"You need to learn how to control your body. If you crash into a stranger like that, he will assume you did it on purpose. Then he will respond by beating you until you are bruised and bloody. Depending on who your crash into, the injuries might be so bad that they are permanent. This will happen because you don't know how to fight and protect yourself. I'm not asking you to learn body control because it makes me happy. I'm asking you to learn it so you don't get severely injured."

That's a lot to drop on a six year-old. Some might say too much. I disagree.

As a parent, I am first and foremost my child's feedback monitor. He grows and experiments with various behaviors as his knowledge and capabilities grow. Part of my job is to give him very realistic pictures of the outcomes of those behaviors.

The hard reality of him throwing himself into someone is exactly what I said it was. If he goes out and "field tests" that one on the wrong kid, my prediction will have a high degree of accuracy.

I take a similar tack when he acts disrespectful or nasty to me. If I was in the process of helping him or getting him something when it happens, I stop immediately. Not because of some moral reason or because of my hurt feelings: I do it because if he disrespects anyone else on this planet, they will not be inclined to help him out. He needs to learn the direct correlation between disrespect and isolation. I would be selling him a terrible fantasy if I convinced him that there were a lot of people out there who would put up with a lot of bad behavior and just love him anyway and still do him favors.

I am the first and foremost avatar of the real world to my child. Many of the things he will need to understand in order to survive in reality he will first experience through me. I would be doing a piss-poor job if my parenting did not reflect reality.

It would be like training in martial arts and providing a student with a fake and unrealistic attack, then telling that student that he can really "defend himself" because he can deal with the fantasy problem I've been giving him. Search the internet and you'll find many instances of such students (who are the victims of the bad teacher) learning about reality the hard way.

I'd much rather my child never come to the conclusion that what I'm teaching him is a lie designed to make us feel comfortable.

Now, let me qualify my statement here. I did not and would not have used this kind of correction on a toddler. They aren't physically or cognitively in the place where they could accept such a correction. Between fear and trauma, it would do more harm than good. For a toddler, the lesson would have been (equally important) that such collisions hurt bodies and feelings, since toddlers don't necessarily understand that very well.

But my son is an exceptionally bright six year-old. He has a natural curiosity for how things work, including relationships between people. He can take losing a bit of innocence in order to obtain some much needed wisdom.

I could see the disquiet in his eyes after I laid this on him. This was a truth he'd much rather not have to dwell on. To be honest, I felt really bad laying something that heavy on him.

But then, parenting is not (and never will be) about being comfortable. It's about doing what is necessary to equip your child with the knowledge and skills needed to interact with the real world outside the presence of its benevolent avatar.

Placeholder

The only reason I am posting this picture of Jeremy Irons is so it doesn't show my ugly mug every time I link the blog on Facebook.

Because every time you need a random image, that image should be Jeremy Irons.

Free Coffee Day

Today I'd used enough of my holiday Starbucks gift certificates to get a free coffee. As is my custom, when it is free, I upgrade from my very modest ice coffee to a venti, ultra-espresso'ed vortex of insanity.

Barista: Are you sure you want that much caffeine in one drink?

Me: Let's make sure we understand each other. Upon drinking this, I want to be able to perceive individual streams of time as they spiral through the universe.

Barista: Understood.

To Do Lists...

Jack overheard a phone conversation I had with my brother the other day. Chris is a contractor, so the topic of a punch list came up.

Once I got off the phone with my brother, Jack asked with utter sincerity, "Does Uncle Chris have a list of people he has to punch?"

"Probably, but that's not related to his job."

On Connection

*While watching Voltron*

Jack; What happens if they don't connect the dynotherms?

Me: No idea, but it's evidently so catastrophic they never even consider NOT doing it. Given that they get discussed in every single episode, I'd imagine they're important.

Jack: Does your Toyota have dynotherms?

Me: I don't think so, no. But then, it doesn't have a blazing sword either.

Jack: That would be really cool.

Me: Yes, it would.

Nutritional Motivation

Jack: Are you going to play that whip crack sound every time I eat a bite of vegetables?

Me: Yes.

Jack: Awesome.