If I were ever to meet a celebrity, the first question I would ask is, “Who are you starstruck by? Who are the stars in your life?” Often you will hear in an interview, a younger actor talking about an experience working with an older actor, and they will speak about how much of an honor it was. Sometimes a reporter asks the question, who was the greatest influence on you? This is often a family member, particularly a parent.
Parents are usually the stars in people’s lives. These are the people who are supposed to nurture your growth, help you along the path and be there when you most need them. Sadly, that is often not the case, Parents come in all shapes, sizes and flavours. There are good ones and there are bad ones.
Because our parents are so integrated into our lives from such an early age, as young children we tend to revere them, almost as Gods. As we grow up, most of us come to the jarring realization that they are just people with all of the flaws and personality quirks that go along with it. Our parents may be selfish or generous, mean or kind, introverted or extroverted, and it often not until we are adults, and we have had enough interaction with the world, and met and dealt with enough outside our immediate family circle, that we can actually, accurately gauge whether or not we had “good parents” or “bad parents.”
Ultimately, the success of a parenting operation depends on the success of the child. If the children are failures then so too were the parents. Parents who chide or berate their failed offspring misdirect their anger. In reality they are yelling at themselves, not the child. They are yelling in frustration at their own failures and foibles.
The debate over Nature vs Nurture or Hereditary vs Environment is endless. The actual mix is probably as diverse as humanity, itself. However, one can fairly safely assume that a personality is comprised of at least one third hereditary, at least one third environment and one third or less of who knows what (echoes of previous instances?)
This means that at least two thirds (and that’s being generous) of your personality is comprised from your parents and their interactions with you during early childhood (upbringing), which means that the chances are 2 to 1 that the parent (or parents) are responsible for the child’s failure in life. At those odds, anyone in Vegas will tell you to bet that the problem is with the parents, either genetic or rearing. Add to that, if the parents have a second child who could be classified as a failure, the odds move dramatically in favour of the parent being responsible (4 to 1).
Parents need to own their children’s failures as well as their successes. If a child consistently fails, then whatever the parent is doing, isn’t working. Too often parents share in their children’s successes, yet disown their failures. When the child succeeds they beam with pride at being good parents. When the child fails, they chide the child, solidifying their feelings of worthlessness and sewing the seeds of further failure.
Every time a child fails, the parent has failed. The Church has long held the belief that parents should, ultimately be responsible for the actions of their children. When a child takes a gun to school and massacres his or her classmates, it is the parents who should be held on charges of murder. After all, they did release a weapon upon the world.
Sadly, often parents don’t own their kids failures and they try to find any way to blame the 1/3rd of their constitution that does not involve the parent, even though the odds are vastly in favour of the conclusion that they are, ultimately, the cause. The reality is that your children’s failures are your failures and you have no right to share in their successes if you do not accept the blame for their failures.
While legally, that responsibility ends at a given age – 18 is common but it varies depending on locale – the truth is, you never stop being a parent until one of you dies. It is sad when a parent buries a child (The Church has experience with this) but only at that point, or when a child buries a parent does the parent’s responsibility to that child ends. Until such time of either of those events, you are still a parent and still have the moral responsibilities that go with that, including encouraging success and consoling failure (rather than berating the failed child, even an adult).
It is your actions that speak, not your words. Many parents will tell their children that they love them when the evidence is quite to the contrary. The magic word to look for is “but.” “I’m sorry I was a terrible mother, but…” “I know you need help and I love you, but…” If you see that “but” at the end of phrases like this then you are seeing an admission that the previous sentence wasn’t true. “I love you but… I love the idea of going to Tijuana even more, even if it does leave you homeless.” This person doesn’t love them at all. They love themselves. If you don’t take care of something or someone then you can’t love it, almost by definition.
“I’m sorry I was a terrible parent but…” Again, not sorry. This “but” is particularly nefarious. In this instance the parent is trying to justify themselves. Apart from disregarding the child’s feelings (which they are doing) they are also trying to elicit sympathy for themselves “times where hard,” “things were different,” “I had [this, that or the other thing] to deal with.” “I had [x number] of children to care for.” I was a terrible parent, but… I’m the one you should feel sorry for.
Umm. No. It is your moral responsibility to do everything for your children however you can and whenever they need you, without judgement or belittlement. Every… last… one of them. And, if you did fail, then it’s your actions going forward that count. Your excuses are meaningless.
There is a tipping point in a parent / child relationship. When the child is young and unaware, the child relies on the parent for guidance. The parents are the stars of the child’s life and the people they are starstruck by. As we get older we accumulate knowledge and experiences of our own and, eventually, we have children of our own. At that time, often the stars in our lives tip from our parents to our children. Our children become the new stars of our lives and will burn longer (and hopefully, brighter) than our parents.
It may take years to see the failings of our parents. Sometimes it is only revealed after years of intensive therapy. In some cases, there are skeletons of evil that are never revealed until after their death. Furthermore, it is not even important to like your children. But it is important to love them and to remember, as a parent, that by bringing them into the world and raising them you will always be responsible for their failures, and their successes. In the words of the late Robin Williams, playing the character of Lance Clayton in the 2009 dark comedy World’s Greatest Dad, speaking about his son Kyle (played by Daryl Sabara):
“You guys didn’t like Kyle. That’s okay. I didn’t either. I loved him. He was my son. But he was also a d****hbag.”
And remember, your children will have the final word about who you were.
