Sounds like a good book. It’s written by a Marin County therapist, about the privileged children she sees – and their parents:
Levine has spent 30 years with these unhappy children, as a therapist and a mother of three sons who attended high-pressure schools. And now, it would seem, she’s had it. She’s had it with schools that worship at the altar of high achievement but do everything they can to undermine children’s growth and well-being: eliminating recess; assigning mind-deadening amounts of homework; and ranking, measuring and valuing kids by narrowly focused test scores, while cutting out other areas of creative education in which large numbers of students who don’t necessarily test well might find success and thrive. And she’s had it with parents who profess to want nothing more than “happiness” for their children (“Kids laugh when I tell them that their parents don’t mention money as a measure of success; they think I’ve been snowed,” she divulges) while neglecting the aspects of family life that build enthusiasm and contentment, and overemphasizing values and activities that can actually do harm.
These are parents who run themselves ragged with work and hyper-parenting, presenting an “eviscerated vision of the successful life” that their children are then programmed to imitate. They’re parents who are physically hyper-present but somehow psychologically M.I.A.: so caught up in the script that runs through their heads about how to “do right” by their children that they can’t see when the excesses of keeping up, bulking up, getting a leg up and generally running scared send the whole enterprise of ostensible care and nurturing right off the rails.
Every once in a while, I see something that seems to be very common, but strikes me as bizarre: You go to your kids’ sport practices? What is the practice for, exactly? Is it so parents can critique the child’s performance, and that of the coach? I mean, I literally don’t get it. What’s the point? You think you’re “proving” what an involved parent you are? It tells me you’re not really paying attention to your child’s psychological need to grow and evolve as an individual in their own circle, and not under your constant scrutiny.
Boy, these old fart outbursts are becoming even more common!
Don’t get me started. Way back when, my ex (a self-made advertising wunderkind who came from humble beginnings and was kicked out of high school himself) insisted that our daughter go the the “best” private school in NYC, which she did. It was a great school, but I never thought it was right for her. Way too much pressure, what with dealing with a mentally ill father and issues of past violence in the home, along with all the normal stuff teenagers deal with: sex, drugs, finding themselves.
I didn’t feel the same way as he did, my self-worth not being defined by what school I attended (though I attended the best on scholarship where I felt [and was] totally out of place with the 1%, half of whom didn’t even deserve to be there academically). When she had to have emergency surgery, she and I switched her to an alternative school where she progressed at her own pace. Hubby was furious. Eh, whatever. Sue me.
Then, within months after we left NYC, he died and she dropped out of college after one week. The death was unexpected and horrible for all of us. A terrible tragedy. She lived on her own and waitressed for a year. I left her alone. Those choices were hers to make. Then, she decided to move to CA with her boyfriend (now husband) and graduated with honors from Berkeley and is now a terrific lawyer (though thinking of switching to teaching). Not all kids learn at the same pace or in the same way – and some simply have too much stress to concentrate. Give ’em a break, that’s what I say.
And never ever put your self-worth in the hands of anyone else. Period.
I must say that I enjoy watching my kids’ sports practices, and games, and the moments we have alone together before and after — usually not discussing the game or practice at all.
I like to think that they get something out of the fact that I care enough to be there watching them. I like to see what they are doing, what they are learning. Watching practices helps me understand their games (I didn’t watch or understand the sport before they started playing, and never played myself) and to appreciate how far they have progressed and how hard they have worked. It lets me see how my kids interact with different coaches and different kids. Occasionally my kid does something or the coach does something that bothers me, and I can talk to my kid about it later. Those events are pretty rare though.
That’s not ALL I do with my kids. THAT would be troubling.
There are other kids whose parents are NEVER there for games or practices, and just pick them up and drop them off at the curb. For some kids, that probably isn’t a problem. I am fortunate to be able to be at most of my kids’ practices and games, and I don’t think I need to be at all of them. But to never be there seems to be wrong too.