Muuuuuuum....I'm bored!

I have particular memories from my childhood of being bored - bored enough to brave my mother, who made short shrift of any complaints by briskly telling me to find something to do or she'd give me a job. My godmother, with whom we spent countless weekends and holidays on her ten acres of land, was wont to inform us with devastating matter of factness from her lofty 6"2' should we be silly enough to complain to her of boredom, that only boring people were bored...and then she'd just stare at us suggestively, which usually prompted us to scuttle off with our tails between our legs! 

I visited similar techniques on my boys - and they learned pretty early that if they couldn't occupy themselves during after school time (once homework had been dealt with) or the weekends that I would find them things to do. Not surprisingly, dishes, car washing, weeding, hanging out washing, etc, didn't really appeal to them... They were both highly creative, and could often then be found building great Lego edifices, complex road systems for matchbox cars, playing board games with friends, and other good old fashioned past-times. No.2 also loved to bake, and I have a number of recipes in my collection that have been specifically written out for him to cater for his reading and comprehension levels at various ages so he could be left to his own devices, because if he was going to make muffins, then HE was going to make them - not help me with the odd stir or adding in of ingredients. 

We didn't have a computer until I was doing my post grad university - No.1 was in his final year of high school by then. The Ex bought him, over my vigorous protests, a Nintendo for his ninth birthday. A few years later, it had become the basis for levels of aggro that were constant: rows over whose turn it was; rows about turns taking too long; rows because someone had cheated; tearful angst about losing; tantrums because I limited their time playing on it; tantrums because the 'stupid Nintendo' cheated (!); and so on...it had become the machine that dominated all the time they weren't at school or otherwise occupied. So one visit to The Ex, when of course it had to be packed up and taken along with clothes and other stuff, I told him not to bring it back, or I'd bin it. I was quite unpopular for some weeks after this, until they gradually drifted back to the myriad other activities they habitually amused themselves with, and relative peace reigned again.

Did they get bored? Of course they did - just as I had before them, and countless generations of children before them. Was that a bad thing - bearing in mind that, at the time of writing, very few children have time to even consider the concept of being bored, poor overscheduled little grubs that many of them are... No, I don't think it was. What being bored did for my children and those of us that remember it, was throw them back on their own resources. For me, as a child, it meant I spent time reading, drawing, writing, creating mad fantasy worlds with toys and building cubbies - inside if the weather was bad, and outside if fine. Interpersonal skills got developed as we headed out into our street to find other kids to play with so the games could be bigger and more exciting. My boys did the same. 

These days, with so much scheduled activity it is less likely that children have much time to get bored - between different afterschool classes, sports, tutoring, and so on, a child's day can look infinitely busier than some working adults, which is a pretty scary concept. Learning to manage time, to manage activities, to foster creative time, and to cultivate those moments when there is nothing pressing to do and you can just BE requires time that isn't scheduled. Time to be bored. Time to have to reflect back to the self and say, well now, what am I going to do with this time that I have available? Maybe an opportunity to find mum and ask if she's free to do a little cooking, or play a game, or similar with a sibling - which will require utilising developing negotiation skills if the other person is busy, and require patience if the requested activity is possible but not just right then and the child has to wait a while. Then again, perhaps everyone else is already occupied and that means the child has an opportunity to sit with it, deal with the initial frustration, be gently nudged to books, paper and pencils, other toys, or even a quiet lie down to just daydream a bit... If this is the norm, it won't be long before the child has found something to do and may even find, to their surprise and yours, that they're quite happy.

We start the rot when we park them in front of the TV to keep them out of our hair at times when we feel we need to be able to focus on what we're doing. I understand the motivation - I did it myself in moments of desperation. But if we start offering them that kind of instant gratification at an age when they lack discernment, then we're effectively spoonfeeding them for our own convenience and, at the same time, depriving them of the opportunity to learn to work it out for themselves. 

I was at the Sydney Fish Markets this morning and there was a large family sitting down to eat. This is not a long drawn out process at the Fish Markets. People buy from the stalls, and park wherever they can find a seat, and scoff down wonderful fresh seafood, then pack up and go... So why was the toddler with this family needing to be parked in front of an iPad with a children's tv show on? The place is a teaming mass of humanity, wonderful colours and smells, stuff coming and going constantly - it's a visual as well as a gastronomic feast - and this little child was experiencing none of it. I see it all the time - kids with their parent's devices being babysat out in public - never learning to BE in public situations, and learn to watch and enjoy being out and about as an activity in itself. I see so many cars being sold now with built in DVD players - why? As a kid in the back seat of a car doing the trek between country South Australia and Sydney annually, as well as countless other road trips, we didn't have all that - and that the technology didn't exist is irrelevant; knowing my mother, we'd not have had it anyway. Instead, she made a pack for us just before each trip. Mine - my brother's had some slightly different goodies - always had a brand new novel, a new activity book and pack of gleaming new coloured pencils; a new blank sketch book and drawing pencils, little packets of sultanas and nuts (which were expected to last) and, if I was really lucky, a new travelling version of a traditional game - we had travelling everything...Scrabble, chess, drafts, battleships and so on. We also had an always growing repertoire of games to play in the car - and my kids grew to love Mum's number plate game where you have to come up with a slogan about the driver in front based on the letters on their number plates. My kids and I also accumulated a selection of songs and had mad sessions of things like There's a hole in the bucket and all sorts of corrupted nursery rhymes!

And what prompted this particular post? There's usually an article or some event that generates my posts on this blog - as my regular readers will know. In this case, it was an article in yesterday's Sydney Morning Herald, which you can read HERE. There are some important points made in the article about the benefits of allowing children more free and unstructured time than they often get these days, as well as some of the issues that may arise when they're over-scheduled.

It's school holidays in lots of Australian states at the moment - so how about having some time when there isn't an activity planned... Give yourself a holiday as well as the kids. Tell them it's THEIR holiday and ask them what they're going to do when they can be at home all day and not have to be at school and all the other things that keep them busy during term time. See how it flies!

Learning to fail

I know, it sounds contrary. However, a few things have converged recently and the ability to manage failure gracefully and see it as something potentially useful is a dying ability, or so it seems to me based on a number of recent experiences. And, as it appears to happen - it's a bit spooky really - as I'm mulling over my thoughts on this topic, up pops an article by a public figure for whom I have a great deal of respect. 

Lisa Forrest will be remembered by many as one of our teenage swimming stars, and one of those who defied Malcolm Fraser's government to be part of our contingent at the 1980 Olympic Games. She has since campaigned for women in sports journalism, acted, presented radio programs and is a writer of four novels, with a fifth due out soon. In her article for The Hoopla, Losing can be beautiful too, she tells of her own experience coming second in a race - mostly due to ignoring her coach's swim plan through youth and inexperience - and her parents' handling of her feelings post-race. She also looks at the debacle of the Australian swim team at the London Olympics last year. A debacle not due to the medal count - our swimmers were there, many won medals, ergo they are right up there amongst the best in the world - but due to their behaviour post-race. Who will ever forget James Magnussen's attitude? Cocky and top of the world pre-race, then incoherent, shoving past reporters refusing to speak when he didn't win.

Aeons ago, when I was still married to No.1's father, I had an experience, up close and personal, of behaviour like this. He was doing an honours degree, and after much slogging away at his thesis, he submitted it for its first review. It was handed back with notes and recommendations for improvements before he handed it up to be examined. It was some time before I got the details of the situation because he was outraged, almost incoherent with emotion that he clearly couldn't articulate. Silly me, I kept asking him what the matter was...concerned young wife... What I got was a tirade about how he'd failed, and how I just didn't understand. I didn't see it myself. What I saw was a review process. What he saw was that his effort wasn't good enough.

This drama played out again with him as one of the players many years later. The other player was No.1. It was school sports day and No.1 had been picked for his house's relay team - the relay races were always the last event on the schedule for the day, so everyone was lined up along the track to cheer them on. No.1's team started badly. The first runner wasn't fast enough, and then there was a fumbled baton change between the first and second runners. Then came the change between the second runner and No.1. At that point in the race, they were coming last. I had never seen No.1 run as fast as he did that afternoon. He powered through, passed one runner, then another runner, then thrust the baton at their last team member with the team now in second place. Their last runner ran a mighty length, but couldn't quite catch up and they came in second - just! Those kids were beside themselves, and No.1 was thumped from all sides with congratulations for pulling them so far back up through the race. He was walking about ten feet tall. His stepfather and I set off across the tracks to congratulate him, but his father got there first... We got there just in time to hear him say to No.1, "What a pity you couldn't have run just a little bit faster, Son. Then your team could have won." No.1 shrank back to less than his usual height. Nothing we said to him could erase what his father had said. He'd done his best, his very, very best, and pulled his team through to a fabulous second, but in his father's eyes he'd failed.

These days, there appears to be a concentrated focus on building our children up to believe they can do anything, they're wonderful, they're brilliant, they're super-talented - ALL THE TIME. Consequently, we are now creating a generation that have no idea how to meet challenges that are a natural part of life. A parent once said to me of a teen I was to work with, "Tell him he's great, he needs to hear he's doing well." My reply was, "Let him show me he's doing well, and I'll reinforce that, but if he's messing up, he needs to hear that so he can lift his game and work out what he needs to do to improve." That same child has recently had a setback at school, and is in meltdown because it's his first real failure and he hasn't the faintest idea of how to deal with it. Admittedly it's big. The potential consequences could be harsh. However, it's not irredeemable, and although it will ultimately mean that he may not come through shining quite as brightly as anticipated, he can still achieve a grade that will get him where he wants to go.

Learning to fail, to lose, teaches us skills to meet challenges. We're not always going to be first in a race. We're not always going to get the top mark. All too often, we'll be second choice for that job we went for. These things will sting, yes. Some of them will feel initially devastating. I know this, I've been there. I've also watched my children struggle through the disappointment of not winning, of not coming first in competitions or school exams. I watched both of them have to work through the emotional implications of spending not one, but two years completing their final year of school, both for a different set of reasons, and both by transferring to a different school for that second year. They are now both in good jobs, independent and enjoying what they're doing. Was it easy for them? No. Do they have a sense of appreciation for what they've achieved? I certainly hope so, because it's impressive. I am extremely proud of both of them.

When we start by giving out a prize to every child who plays 'pin the tail on the donkey' at a birthday party instead of just the child who actually achieves it; when we buy into rants from children who bring home substandard work from school blaming their teachers for not 'getting' them; when we tell them that they're the best at something, even if they're not - we start to teach them that everyone is a winner, everyone is great, and they can always have what they want just because they want it. That's not reality. Sometimes, if they experience something bad, it may be a genuinely unfair situation that creates the loss. That happens, and in that case, they're fully entitled to sympathy and cossetting. Losing a game - well, in games someone wins and someone loses and that's how games work, so that should be dealt with in a matter of fact manner. Basically, if you don't like to lose, don't play, and if you want to play, learn to lose gracefully when it's not your time to win. When they fail because they didn't come up to scratch, if they ignored an instruction, if they broke the rules...they need to learn that they created that for themselves. They made a choice that resulted in them not achieving their desired aim, that they played a part in the end result and they need to take responsibility for that. If we don't teach them this, we deprive them of the opportunity to take responsibility for their own destiny. We take away from them the possibility to learn to strive for something they haven't yet attained. We don't give them a chance to learn what it is to burn for something and then pursue it... 

The Samson factor

Today's trigger article in The Sydney Morning Herald really did strike a chord, so after a long time away from this blog, I really did feel the need to write about this. Kasey Edwards, a journalist who writes in the Lifestyle section of the paper wrote a piece that, on the one hand taps into the ongoing celebrity watch/criticise that is rampant in the press these days, and on the other hand, highlights the issue of when it's OK to give our kids free reign on the choices they make - and which choices can be left to them without risk or potential harm, depending on their age and the circumstances.

The piece centres on Will Smith's eleven year old daughter, Willow, and her recent decision - upheld by her parents - to shave her head. You can read the full article here. http://www.dailylife.com.au/life-and-love/behold-powerful-public-parenting-in-action-20121204-2arr8.html

Those of you who follow the celebrity press may be aware that Willow Smith has been hailed as a budding fashion icon, and there has already been considerable flack leveled at her parents for some of the outfits she's been seen wearing. Will and Jada Smith have been extremely vocal defending her choice of self-expression, taking some pains to make it plain that they are not pushing her into notoriety. Characteristically, both parents have publicly defended Willow's new haircut, Will stating in a statement in Parade:

If I teach her that I'm in charge of whether or not she can touch her hair, she's going to replace me with some other man when she goes out in the world...She has got to have command of her body.

And this letter from Jada Pinkett Smith on Facebook:

This is a world where women, girls are constantly reminded that they don't belong to themselves; that their bodies are not their own, nor their power or self determination’, wrote Jada Pinkett Smith. ‘I made a promise to endow my little girl with the power to always know that her body, spirit and her mind are HER domain.

She goes on to add the following, qualifying her sentiments about the length of Willow's hair:

... even little girls have the RIGHT to own themselves and should not be a slave to even their mother's deepest insecurities, hopes and desires. Even little girls should not be a slave to the preconceived ideas of what a culture believes a little girl should be.

It is this last that really got to me, because I have lived this story with No. 2 son. When he was five, he up and announced that he didn't want a haircut the day I was making appointments at the hairdresser. He wouldn't tell me why, but when I pushed to get him there, I found myself dealing with not a tantrum, but a very determined small boy who refused to budge on the issue. In the interests of peace, I let it ride that day. However, when I revisited it a week or so later, I met exactly the same determination. It took me weeks to get to the bottom of it, and I was sworn to secrecy... He had a crush on boy band, Hansen, made up of three brothers who all had glorious manes of thick blond hair. Seems No. 2 HAD to emulate this particular fashion statement. I was sworn to secrecy because No. 1 son had already given him a considerably hard time about liking the band, so he didn't want any more ridicule.

The hair lasted four years. During that time, No. 2 endured teasing and condemnation from classmates, teachers, his brother, his father, and random members of the public. His father hated it and refused to help him keep it tidy, following that up with castigating him for having messy hair. I went to war with the hierarchy at his school when we were passing through the phase of getting the fringe past the point where it's going to be in the eyes because it's too long to not be and not long enough to tuck behind the ears... I made him navy blue bandanas so it could be tucked out of the way and keep his head neat. The school said they weren't uniform and he couldn't wear them. The school had recently supported the Canteen Fundraiser, which sells brightly coloured bandanas to raise money for child cancer sufferers, and half the student population at the time were sporting a wide array of pink, red, green, yellow and bright blue bandanas, while No. 2 was the only child in a plain navy one, which matched the school colours. As I said to the principal, in a somewhat heated exchange watched in wide-eyed amazement by then six year old No. 2, it was completely discriminatory on his part to single No. 2 out when all my efforts were to ensure that his hair was neat and tidy and out of his way so he could work without distraction while the school was peppered with small girls with loose hair that was all over the place as, being a public school, there was no hair code... Those small girls who were groomed sported a variety of clips, combs and headbands, none of which would have been suitable for a boy. The word 'discrimination' worked like a charm...the last thing the man wanted was a situation where that became a factor, and the navy blue bandanas were passed.

My issue with No. 2's father and stepmother was that, had he been a girl with long hair, neither of them would have hesitated to assist him, and would probably have gone out of their way to help make it 'pretty'. That didn't go down very well. By this time, No. 2 had realised the value of regular trims at the hairdresser, once he'd realised that that was what I - with my then waist-length hair - did. He had the added bonus - which wasn't extended to me (!) - that the hairdresser would do him a fabulous braid at the end of his session - and I wish someone had taught me how to do the fishtail he left with one time. Once his hair was long enough, he went to school with a ponytail. Eventually there was enough length to do a proper braid that kept all the ends in. He went through the same regime I had as a child with long hair - it was brushed out in the morning and braided for school, and then brushed out again and braided to sleep. He wore it out on weekends, unless he was doing something where it would be better in a braid.

So, why did I allow this 'anarchy' from a five year old? No. 2 is a highly gifted creature. He had an enormously turbulent time throughout his time at school - all twelve years of it. There was often conflict and trouble - with schoolmates and teachers. He didn't connect well with his peers, was often on the receiving end of resentful teasing, and he didn't always handle that well, resorting all too frequently to violence. Yet, for the four years of wearing what was a most spectacular mane of thick, streaky, ash-blond hair, he never once retaliated inappropriately to jibes about that. He did everything I suggested to keep it clean and tidy. He put up with the discomfort of having me wash it - how THAT experience came back to me from my own childhood... - and combing out wet tangles. He was never rude to people who, seeing only the hair and the big blue eyes, mistook him for a girl. I do believe that because it was his choice to grow his hair and wear it long, he was equally prepared to deal with the consequences of that choice in an appropriate manner, no matter how trying other people could be.

I have a lovely memory of watching him walk across the tarmac to a waiting plane, en route to a visit to his father who was then living interstate. He was nine, the hair had reached his waist. He'd pleaded with me just to have a ponytail for the trip instead of a braid, and as he cleared the building, the wind caught his hair and blew it out into a shining, blonde banner. Two weeks later, I walked past him in the airport...missing him completely when I arrived to pick him up. I didn't recognise him. The hair was gone, chopped by a hairdresser ordered by his father to cut it off, replaced by a messy layered crop. His posture was diminished - the proud, head-tossing swing was gone from his stride, and wordlessly, he placed the ponytail, still with its elastic grip, in my hand. He changed after that. There were increased issues at school. He hated his hair. He wouldn't speak to his father when he rang from interstate. He wouldn't discuss his hair at all.

Growing his hair was an exercise in self-expression that, for No. 2, in the midst of an often very difficult childhood, was a positive choice on his part with a number of very positive personal achievements for him. He wasn't given a choice about having it cut off, and that damaged something in him. Someone in the media frenzy that followed Willow Smith's crop made the comment, '"it's just hair", etc....It's not the hair...Kids not only need boundaries, they WANT boundaries...’ I remember having stuff like that leveled at me. Thing was, No. 2 had boundaries being placed all around him, many of which he challenged on a daily basis. With his hair, there were boundaries he then placed on his own behaviour, which were all to the good...because he didn't hit kids who teased him about his hair, he didn't smart talk teachers who said stupid things to him about it, and in the face of the campaign waged by his father, he knuckled down and learned to do his own neat and tidy ponytails much earlier than a lot of the little girls we knew at the time. Having made the choice to grow his hair against the prevailing trends for boy's hair, he empowered himself, learning alternatives to his usual knee-jerk reactions.

These days' No. 2's hair changes colours frequently. Now it's me who lives interstate and I still have moments when I meet him at airports as to whether I'll recognise him... He said to me recently that now he's settled in his job and new apartment, the next plan is to lose some weight and grow his hair again...

Baby sleeping woes...

I spotted this article in the Sydney Morning Herald the other day, http://www.essentialbaby.com.au/baby/caring-for-baby/five-baby-sleep-myths--busted-20121009-27arb.html#utm_source=FD&utm_medium=lifeandstylepuff&utm_campaign=babysleepmyths

The writer, Pinky McKay, works her way through a list of myths/rules about how babies should and shouldn't sleep. I've not always agreed with various pieces of hers on parenting - she can be a bit extreme on some issues - but this piece is right on the knocker.

It brought back lots of memories of those conflicted, sleep-deprived, dizzy days of small babyhood, and made me think about how important the right information is when we're new mums. I was so very fortunate to have excellent support from my mother and a good friend when No.1 Son was born. There were some skirmishes with the in-laws and his father, who were, in their various ways, control freaks who believed in babies having routines that matched a clock... However, Mum and Rose were always there telling me to go with my instincts and follow the lead given by the baby. Consequently, he was fed on demand, put gently into bed more or less asleep (drunk on breastmilk) and in the afternoons when I was desperately in need of a nap myself, we both went to bed together with him plugged in, nursing on and off until we were both asleep. It worked. He was a very healthy, easy baby and slipped quite naturally into a 'routine' of his own that, on the whole, meant his awake times were during daylight and he slept at night - going back to sleep after night feeds that were just that...no talk, no play, no lights, just a feed and back to bed.

No.2, born when No.1 was six and a half, and at school, posed different issues. There were clock issues - the school run, mostly. He was also a much 'busier' baby. He didn't do hours long sleeps in the day time - ever. It took me a little while to cotton on to the fact that what had worked for No.1, wasn't necessarily going to work this time around. So, he did a lot of his day time naps in a baby sling, if I needed to be out and about, or if I was at home, he was happier in a baby chair on the table where he was in the middle of everything - and would just drop off there and sleep for an hour or so in the midst of the activity. When I was desperate for a nap, I took him to bed, because being tucked in with me, all warm and cosy, meant he almost always dropped off while nursing - where, if I fed him anywhere else, he might nurse with his eyes shut, but the minute he was finished, they'd ping back open and he'd be wide awake again...no sleep for me...and stressed, overtired mum means there's a really good chance of ratty baby right on dinner time when the six year old needs attention too...

The bottom line is, there are too many 'shoulds' for new mums - in my humble opinion. Gone are the days of the extended family living in close proximity where kids grow up alongside babies, and absorb a lot of baby-lore along the way. Nowadays, a first baby can often be, for both parents, the first baby they've ever really handled. It can be the same for their friends around them as well. There is more literature out there about how to 'do' babies than ever before, especially with online resources added to the welter of books. I remember THE book that came out when No.1 was tiny - all my young mum friends had a copy, it was THE bible... I also remember the woman in our group who ended up a complete basket case because she tried to use it as her daily guide, and when something didn't exactly match how the book said it should be she was just a mess. It was awful to watch. I put my copy away after that, and if I was stuck, I called Mum or Rose - both of whom reiterated, trust yourself, and do what feels right for you...

Babies are resilient little beasties, and each one is different. Having said that, they have very simple needs in those early months - sleep, food, and a dry nappy...  Putting away the 'shoulds' about how to be a 'perfect' mother (what IS that???) and feeding your baby when it's hungry, letting it sleep as it will, cuddling it if it's miserable, is what we can do best, if we are supported to do so by our partners, our family and our friends.

Men in frocks

It's been a while...life has rather got in the way of keeping up with this blog. It's not been for lack of what my friends would call fodder. It's been a matter of time and headspace. My aim with this blog is not to use it as a space to vent - which would be all too easy. Rather to offer a considered view of parenting and family stuff as things pop up that trigger a response in me. And that takes care, which takes time, which I've not had a lot to spare for the last little while. However...something dear to my heart popped up in The Sydney Morning Herald today.

This is a photograph of German father, Nils Pickert, with his five year old son, which appeared in an article in today's Herald, which you can read here. Pickert's son is at an age where small boys quite often wish they could wear dresses - both of mine did around the same age (one more definitely than the other), as did the child of a friend of my mother's, and I daresay more within my circle of friends if I asked around. In doing so, Pickert's son became the brunt of a considerable amount of bullying and teasing and, rather than taking what could have been many different options, Pickert chose to don a skirt in solidarity with his child. The writer of the article, Christopher Scanlon, says Pickert should be voted 'Father of the Year — no, scratch that — Father of the Decade' for opting to stand by his son's choice, rather than try to impose a more general stereotype.

The media and Internet furor has, apparently, been considerable, with Pickert being accused of poor parenting, at least, to downright abuse. However, as the mother of two boys, I and they survived these phases. One of them, at four, bemoaned the fact - on viewing an extremely frothy theatre costume I'd brought home to re-furbish - that he didn't get to wear anything 'pretty' like that, and why couldn't he have dresses too? The other, at five, refused to have his hair cut and by nine sported a waist length mane of the most spectacular streaky, dirty blond hair. He also had amongst his toys a small baby doll that he'd begged for at two, which he cared for most diligently for long stretches of time - demanding that I sew new outfits for so she wouldn't be cold - and then neglected for equally long periods of time when other things took over. At eight, when all the children in his class were taking favourite toys to school for show and tell, 'baby' was in a period of being cared for and he insisted, despite my concerns about him being teased, on taking the doll to school complete with a small case of her entire wardrobe.

The one who wanted the dress had me chewing on an almighty dilemma. On the one hand, I didn't see anything at all unreasonable in his desire for something pretty. However, I knew his father would have very different views and wouldn't be above some pretty negative and unedited comments which I was concerned could be more damaging in the long run. So, some creative compromise was called for... I had just finished making myself a dress from some wonderful vintage, printed linen - cream background with an abstract, but clearly floral, splashy print. I pulled the scraps out and asked if he like it..the glowing eyes said it all, so I made him some shorts. He wore them until they threatened to split even when he was standing still. Then they were handed on to a friend's daughter. they came back and were worn by Son No. 2, then my goddaughter, and are currently in my sewing box awaiting new elastic to go onto small niece who will be just about big enough for them this Christmas.

No. 2 son loved those shorts. He didn't ask for dresses, but he also loved pretty things and beautiful fabrics - he still does. His hair was forcibly cut by his father just before his tenth birthday, and he's never been quite the same since. He's twenty one now and talking about growing it long again.

The thing is, these are all external expressions - some of which may pass, some of which may be a bigger and deeper statement about core identity. Personally, watching No. 2 son battling through the trials and tribulations of a gifted child in an education system that couldn't cater to him, I felt enormously proud about the self control he exercised in the face of the inevitable teasing he faced from other kids and some teachers about his hair. I just wished he could do the same thing about some of the other issues - but nothing's perfect, right?!

But, back to the skirts and dresses. Ultimately, this is a cultural thing, and in the West, we've become so homogenised that we've lost sight of the fact that the way we may apportion gender characteristics and style is something that has evolved over time, and has been driven by a great many different factors at different times - and it's not fixed. A lot of it is driven by the fashion industry, and then there are cultural stereotypes that, as much as we might wish it otherwise, can have all of us condemning or celebrating particular decisions without thinking overmuch WHY we do that. A perfect example of this is the constant negativity around Shiloh Jolie-Pitt - daughter of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. This child, from a very early age, has been dressing mostly in boy-style clothing - and the media backlash has been damning at times...

I say...and this is a purely personal opinion...who the hell cares what people wear, as long as they're comfortable in themselves? And on the men with dresses thing...one of the most common negative comments is that it's 'gay' and that allowing boys to 'indulge' in wearing dresses when they're little will 'turn' them gay... I copped this over No. 2 son with his long hair and 'baby' in arms - because when that child was high on his list of priorities, where he went, so did the 'baby'!

Is it about masculinity, and is it that subverting a stereotype is deeply unsettling for many in the general population - and why is that? Have a look at this pic:

I don't know about anyone else, but I can't see anything here other than some pretty solid masulinity. Part of that, I have to say - and this was borne out when we went to the Highland Festival in the Souther Highlands this year and were surrounded by men in kilts - is that a man wearing a kilt with confidence is a darned sight more masculine to my way of thinking than a guy slouching along in drainpipe jeans that are hanging so low down I can see nearly all of his underwear... And this one:

Whatever your views on Arab culture and politics, I think it's reasonable to assume that most people are going to view the traditional Arab man as an inherently masculine creature - regardless of his long skirts. 

Coming back to the issue of sexuality - because this whole discussion inevitably comes around to it - I don't think that a gay man is necessarily any less masculine than a straight man. Or a gay woman, come to that, is more butch than a straight woman. That's character stuff, and the whole spectrum of character traits can be found across genders and sexuality types. That may be a bit of preaching to the choir - but I felt it should be said.

While I was chugging around the net preparing to write this post, I came across another article; this one about a British boy who borrowed a school uniform skirt from his sister to protest the lack of a comfortable summer option for the boys at the school. He cleverly exploited a loophole that stated - without gender specification - that tailored black trousers or a skirt with no splits could be worn in summer...but no shorts options for the boys. With the support of his family and many of his mates at school this feisty twelve year old wore his skirt to school to make the point that the boys were equally entitled to have a cooler summer uniform option. You can check out the article here.

Who knows what will happen with fashion - there are couturiers who are sending men down the catwalks in skirts. Vivienne Westwood certainly started it some time ago, and many of the other houses have followed suit at some time or another. Will it take off? In a culture like Australia, I suspect not. My father used to have a go at a friend of the family every summer - it was so regular that it became exceedingly tedious and everyone ignored him. The reason? Said male friend of the family spent as much of every summer in our very hot, dry country town in a cotton sarong when he was at home. He had a couple of very spectacular sarongs too, and in the evening would add a simple white collarless shirt to come to the table for dinner. He always looked impeccable - and cool.

And ultimately, isn't that what should come down to when we get dressed? Comfort...physically and emotionally?

Gen X, Y, Z - now what?

I wrote in a post a while back that I didn't know what to call the current generation. You can read that post here. Today I found an opinion piece in the Sydney Morning Herald in which the writer dubs them 'The I Generation'. In her article, I want out of Generation I, Lynn Van Der Wagen tackles the issue from the perspective of the classroom, as a teacher. I would encourage my readers to follow the link and read the article - it's not long - before continuing here, otherwise some contextual misunderstandings may arise.

Firstly, I have to say that I chuckled all the way through Van Der Wagen's article. She exercises an edgy, sarcastic style that is hugely entertaining, and I'm very sure that anyone who has anything to do with today's teenagers would probably have found a similar level of enjoyment from her very pointed analysis. 

However, underneath the sarcasm and wry wit, there is a very real concern, with which I identify. I tutor teenagers and I live with one - and there's an awful lot of reality in this article. It's not a particularly pretty reality either. It's not just the current crop of teens either, my boys belong a generation back, and there are elements of what is described that can be attributed to Gen Z too. Back when they were 'Gen I's' age, I was teaching other Gen Z's and receiving assignments that were - as is described in the article - all too often pastiches of digital cut and pastes from websites, rather than the product of considered research and evaluation of the  source material from the reading lists I had so very carefully assembled for them. It worried me at the time, and I told them I'd automatically deduct marks if there were no books in their bibliography lists at the end of their papers. My sense then was that it was the thin end of the wedge. I didn't have any sense of that thought being prophetic. However, now I have students in high school whose first port of call - in front of me too, when we're working together - is Wikipedia... It's pure laziness - and I tell them so.

One of my students goes to a school which has an agreement with a number of university and industry based libraries, so that the students are able to access books and journals as well as online resources that exceed the scope of most school libraries. Does this student avail himself of this awesome resource? Of course not. That would take time, and effort. Much more time than leaving the assignment until the last minute and waiting for me to arrive for a tutoring session, then in a ridiculously thinly camouflaged fashion, sitting at his computer waiting for prompts from me on what to write... "What did you say? Can you say it again?" - you don't have to be too smart to realise he's waiting for me to dictate the text of his paper...and I'm far from stupid. 

What I don't get - and this is a characteristic that Van Der Wagen didn't mention - is why this batch of kids continue to set themselves up so clumsily. I watch it all the time. And it comes back to what Van Der Wagen said so succinctly:

The sheer weight of their viewpoints is growing exponentially as parents and teachers alike are counselled to hold a young person's opinion in the highest regard.
Current thinking in educational circles focuses on students' independence and empowering unwavering self-belief.

By 'empowering' this generation to believe in themselves implicitly, and expect others to 'hold their opinion in the highest regard' are we not depriving them of opportunity to think critically? To consider their opinions and potential effects before they open their mouths? To value substantiating information and actually be concerned about getting things right, to the best of their ability? 

What I see all too often is a certain element of bravado and swagger that is probably a necessary accessory to enable them to maintain their deliverance of a lot of hot air, followed by an enormous effort to put themselves in a position of humorous superiority by joking about it if their bubble is pricked by someone who isn't prepared to indulge them. Worse, if you get them on a bad hair day, you're quite likely to get a mouthful about how all you ever do is try to take them down, and what do you know anyway...?

One of my colleagues said to me a few weeks back, when we were discussing this topic (he has teenage kids) that in his opinion, the destiny of 'Gen I' was going to be failure - in much the same way as family businesses can all too often go under when generations who weren't part of building the business inherit. My colleague's theory was that 'Gen I' have been too much indulged to have an understanding of long-term, hard endeavour, and sticking to things until they succeed. They're too accustomed to the instant gratification of things at the click of a mouse, last minute arrangements, making excuses and not being accountable. It will be their children who pick up, because they will have to find a different path... It's a scary proposition.

I do want to clarify one thing before I wrap up. I like these kids. They're very charming, and the ones I deal with are all very bright. They have piles and piles of potential. But I see so much of it going to waste, and I worry about their future when they don't have people standing by them who are there to continue to build them up because they lack the ability to do it for themselves.

Rules and regulations

I've been mulling a bit about this blog. It's easy to tell stories, to comment on what's in the press about parenting, and to come across - and I hope I don't - as someone who thinks they know it all. I don't. I know how it was for me when I was growing up - what I struggled with from my parents and what I can look back on with the clarity of hindsight and see as good commonsense. I know what I tried to do as a parent with my kids - and I know that some of it they see very differently to the way I see it. 

So, I  was thinking about the basics, the things that underpinned what I did, the way I did it, and why I did it - and I'll qualify that with the information that I also did it largely on my own as a sole parent. Even when partnered I was, largely, parenting solo - and that does make a difference. When you don't have someone backing you up, the terms of engagement have to be different - you can't play good cop/bad cop by yourself!! Seriously, a united front of two like-minded parents is something that kids might try to resist, but ultimately will respect pretty quickly - just as they will, equally quickly, play two parents off each other when they discern that said parents are not in agreement about something.

My basic parenting style was based on rules. The premise was pretty simple - there were a bunch of rules that I created that were intended to provide a clear structure of what people could and couldn't do, and what was expected of everyone in the household so that living together was manageable. Breaking the rules meant uncomfortable consequences - and the reality of that was, often the consequences were uncomfortable for everyone. They evolved over time as the boys got older and were more aware of the rights/responsibility equation, and they had to be something I could stand by without getting myself into hot water, because backing down wasn't an option.

The basics were - in no particular order, and I'm sure I'll forget some of them! It's been a while - and it's only now with a teen in the house again that I'm coming up hard against the results of a different style of parenting that I'm being made aware of them.

1. It it isn't yours, don't touch it.
2. If you use something, put it away again when you've finished.
3. If you make a mess, clean it up.
4. If you're going somewhere, leave a note so I know where you are when I get home to an empty house - this was pre mobile phones...
5. Do not walk into a room talking - wait and see what's going on before you barge in with whatever it is you're wanting/needing.
6. Don't yell from another room - if you want someone, go find them.
7. Change out of school clothes straight away when you get home and put them in the wash.
8. If you want some say in what's for dinner, be involved in making it. If you weren't and it just landed in front of you with no input on your part, the only thing you are allowed to say is, "thank you."
9. Try everything on your plate - even if you think you don't like it. Your tastes change as you mature and you won't know if you don't try.
10. Say hello when you walk through the door, and goodbye when you're leaving.
11. Say please and thank you.
12. When you're asked to do something, just do it - don't argue. 
13. If you're angry about something, that's fine. If you want to talk about it then talk, if you don't that's also fine - but take it to your room and don't dump on people.
14. Do not go into each other's bedrooms uninvited - people's space is to be respected.
15. Do not interrupt people - wait for a pause and say, "excuse me." This includes interrupting people when they're on the phone.
16. Don't just get up and leave the table when you're finished. Wait until everyone is finished their meal and then ask to be excused.

I'm sure there are more, but by now it should be pretty obvious what forms the basis of these rules.  They're all about courtesy, manners. It's something I see less and less. I do understand that styles of communication have changed, but I don't see why that should mean that basic good manners should go down the drain. 

My kids aren't perfect - let me be the first person to make that point. Neither am I. There were arguments about any and all of these rules at various times. However, one thing I can say about them - even when they're being distant young men, as is the current situation - is that I could, and did, take them anywhere and one consistent piece of feedback I got about them was how polite they were. They would sit at other people's tables and manfully wade through whole plates of food they didn't like without a murmur. I'd hear all about it later - at length - but they never embarrassed their hosts by complaining about the food. They would also thank said hosts for their meal. 

I could relate vast numbers of war stories about the breaking of these rules and subsequent consequences in all sorts of gory detail. But I'm not going to today. My point today is that a lot of parenting is about conditioning our kids - deliberately or unwittingly. They follow our lead. If we speak to them with courtesy, they will respond in kind. If we yell at them all they time, they will learn that that's normal and they will yell at us and everyone else all the time. If we let them interrupt us all the time, they will assume that's acceptable and they will interrupt anyone else they come into contact with. It's pretty straightforward cause and effect.