“All parenting turns on a crucial question: to what extent parents should accept their children for who they are, and to what extent they should help them become their best selves.”
I read these words in the description of Andrew Solomon’s latest book, Far From the Tree: Parents, Children, and the Search for Identity. I haven’t yet read the book, as it just came out, but it’s on my list. In it, Solomon (who won the National Book Award for The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression) draws on interviews with over 300 families in which the children were profoundly different from their parents. He spoke with families dealing with schizophrenia, deafness, and other disabilities, as well as those with transgender children and prodigies. (For more information, you can also visit the book’s website.)
The quote above caught my attention, as it is one that I struggle with on a regular basis, in small and big ways. My daughter doesn’t seem interested in math and science, but that would be a good career for her, so should we push it? She’s an anxious child; do I embrace the anxiety (a genetic gift I gave to her) and make life easier when I can? Or do I push her to face it, and hopefully overcome it? And of course, there is the obsession with Hello Kitty and the Disney Princesses. Do I accept my fate (and their love of all things girly and pink) or push forward with my wish for them to be strong, independent girls, unphased by the glitter and glam of pop Americana?
And what about the bigger questions, the future? As much as I’d love to tell you that I don’t have plans for my daughters, that I am willing to follow them on whatever path they may choose, it’s not entirely true. I expect them to be healthy and functional, contributing members of society. I hope they get an education, find life partners, start families, and work hard at careers that inspire them. I want them to be happy, and make the world a better place.
Now that I’ve written it all out, it seems like an awful lot to expect of another person. And yet, I can’t imagine wanting anything less for them.
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I have heard a couple of interviews with Andrew Solomon. This book is definitely on my reading list. The title of the book caught my attention as genetic counselors often refer to “apple tree syndrome.”
I am reading the book and it is wonderful. I am a very successful person with mild cerebral palsy. I am a poet and disability activist. I am so happy that this book is getting tons of attention, although I am disappointed that it has taken a somewhat able-bodied person to garner that attention. He repeats many of the ideas Deaf and disability activist have been writing (and have been ignored) for twenty years.
The guist of the thing is about accepting your children for who they are- not who you desire them to be. It’s about adjustment and resilience and not using the one American standard to measure everyone by (Solomon uses the word typical because normal implies better). There is EASIER, but there is not better.
I walk awkwardly, get tired, have a lot of pain and have impaired speech. For years people have put me down and questioned my ability. It is funny to me that people would think something such as walking straight or speaking utterly clearly is a measure of conpetitance. Obviously not. I have two Master’s degrees, a husband, child, and have been a university adjunct. Society makes a mistake in thinking that there is one form of success, based largely on capitalism and only certain people are capable of that success. Everyone looses.
My kids will appreciate you for this article one day! Now, I’m anxious to get my hands on this book. I love your inspiring story, Jennifer. I am a “typical” person, but you sound extraordinary. It’s true, people are judged before given a chance. A friend of mine, who has spina bifida, has been looked over for years, her family still doesn’t know the brilliance that goes through her mind and probably never will. Your hard work is proof that judging by looks is idiocy (though, I’m sure you obtained all you have for much better reasons than proving something). Thanks for sharing!
Right there with you Carla. This is the essence of trying to value the child for who he/she is but also creating an option filled life. I struggle with this everyday with my artist/musician/writer who finds academics less than interesting. Yet, when I find him in bed late a night with Jack Kerovack next to him my heart can’t help but sing. Raising humans is the hardest job there is out there.