…This is my first post here in a while. I used to be semi active on ILP.com about a year or so ago. I have forgotten my user name and PW so I made a new one.
What I wanted to bring to the table today is my thoughts on a pretty popular David Bowie quote, and what it means to me as a father. I hope this is the right board for this.
~ “…and these children that you spit on,
as they try to change their worlds are immune to your consultations.
They’re quite aware of what they’re going through…”
-
David Bowie~
My first reaction after reading and pondering this quote is, it breaks my heart. My “parenting” to my 6 year old little girl who is so aware and internally involved in her surroundings, is probably speaking to her in an alien language. I think that I, and a lot of us, lack the required tools to communicate our thoughts and musings to these little people who are still shaping their perception of reality. And not taking anything at face value.
I remember when I was 5-6ish and older, and the input I received from my mother or other influences, I normally took with a grain of salt. Below the level of thought, I was very protective of my world view. An adult had to bring a very convincing argument for me to entertain it. Not to say that I saw thru all the BS and only took the truth to heart, not at all. I’m positive that I looked over countless great logical statements, and took to heart a whole lot of crap. My point is, as a small child with a firm constitution, I had a pretty impressive firewall up ready to shoot down all comers.
Nothing about the last paragraph was written to boast, I think that this state of mind for little children is common, not unique. There may be more impressionable kids, some less impressionable, but the demographic that I describe has a great number/percent of members.
Ok so now that my rambling is done, let me break down the quote by line and my first impressions of each line:
“…and these children that you spit on,”
Very strong intro. I take “spit on” not as intentional disrespect but more like unintentional patronizing. Establishing that there is a communications barrier. To such an extent that my good willed attempt at sound advice is taken as vitriol.
To my baby girl, I don’t mean to spit on you, I just don’t know how to talk to your unique type of understanding. From now on, I will try to learn your language.
…“as they try to change their worlds are immune to your consultations.”
Most, if not all, of the inquiries that my little girl brings to the plate seem like they have, temporarily, stumped her. She wants the answers, so she comes to me. Not for the answers, because she knows she can figure them out for herself. She comes to me to see what my personality’s take on the subject is, and once she has that bit of information, she is one step further in making up her mind.
But I in my infinite wisdom as a parent and an adult will just tell her the answer, tell her how to think. And am completely bemused when in a few days the same type of topic comes up and she hasn’t fully incorporated my sage advice into her essence.
To my baby girl, how stupid of me. You are smarter then I, why would I expect you to blindly believe me when you have a perfectly good working brain to process this information. From now on, I will try to not be your answers, I will try to be your advice.
'…They’re quite aware of what they’re going through…"
Thanks for telling me. How could I or anyone fall into the trap of thinking that our little children are not aware of what they’re going through. Not just question and answer sessions with them, not just discipline/punishment, not just the “because I said so” bullshit line. But being aware of, say, my consolidated synopsis of a situation, like why you have to put gasoline in the car. “The car is thursty and likes to drink the gas, baby!” Thinking back on it now, that little polite smile she gives me for one of these types of answers makes me want to punch myself in the face. Behind that complementary smile is a bunch of wheels and gears turning trying to really figure out why we need to put gas in the car. And why her daddy couldn’t have just explained it to her in more then one sentence.
To my little girl, you’ve had to go through a lot from my mistaken perspective that I am your superior, intellectually, and otherwise. You have had to go though me not taking you as serious as you deserve. I will stop putting you in the “you’re a 6 year old” box. I will now view you where you really are: on a podium reaching for infinity.
So these are my novice musings. I would love to hear what you all have to say.