How much of the work has already been done
Bitch, PhD writes about We Need to Talk About Kevin:
"The real question the novel wants asked is the question that all parents know and that all children ask: why? In fact, as the novel makes clear, this isn’t just a question for kids. It’s the question we all ask when children turn out "badly," or even when they turn out well: why did we get this result? What did we do, or not do, right?"
I’m currently reading A Perfect Stranger and other stories, by Roxana Robinson. In "Blind Man," she writes:
"And if you, the parent, have ever allowed yourself small helpings of private pride and satisfaction at your child’s accomplishments, if you have ever stood beaming at a graduation in the June sunlight, swelling inwardly over the award for religious studies and feeling that in some unexplained but important way your daughter reflects your presence, that she represents you and your codes, both cultural and genetic; if you have ever felt that your beautiful daughter was somehow flowering forth from you, so then, when another area of her endeavors is revealed — addiction, say, to crack cocaine — you will also feel the heavy cowl of complicity settle over your head."
And a friend recently forwarded me this quote from Ian McEwan’s Saturday:
"It’s a commonplace of parenting and modern genetics that parents have little or no influence on the characters of their children. You never know who you are going to get. Opportunities, health, prospects, accent, table manners – these might lie within your power to shape. But what really determines the sort of person who’s coming to live with you is which sperm finds which egg, how the cards in two packs are chosen, then how they are shuffled, halved and spliced at the moment of recombination. Cheerful or neurotic, kind or greedy, curious or dull, expansive or shy and anywhere in between; it can be quite an affront to parental self-regard, just how much of the work has already been done."
Is there a base level of functional parenting, above which it doesn’t really matter what we do? And if this were provable true, would we all be relieved, or disappointed?
Update: I finally got to the top of the hold list for Saturday, and found out that the next sentence in the book is:
"On the other hand, it can let you off the hook."
McEwan and I are clearly thinking along the same lines. He goes on to say (and I agree totally): "The point is made for you as soon as you have more than one child; two entirely different people emerge from their roughly similar chances in life."
October 16th, 2005 at 2:01 am
Relieved. Honestly.
At the same time, it worries me what kind of influence the outside world has on my son, especially if it’s influence proves more effective than my own.
October 16th, 2005 at 9:19 am
It does seem to me that if you cover the basics and aren’t doing any damage in the early years–e.g. abuse or neglect–then after that, you may not have much effect. I wonder, though, if during my extremely rebellious teen years if there was anything my parents could have done to prevent some of my more damaging moments. They had laid enough of a foundation that I didn’t do significant damage to myself, but things easily could have gone another way. I just there are so many factors involved when something goes well or poorly for a child that we can never tease them out. There might need to be a predisposition, the perfect circumstances, and perhaps influence from others.
October 16th, 2005 at 10:22 pm
I think it is, unfortunately, a lot easier to screw up than otherwise. I think it is quite possible to take a “good child” and through neglect or abuse, warp them; but if you have a good child then even basically adequate parenting will end up with a “good adult.” Whereas if you have a child who is prone to any combination of problems, the world’s best parenting may not ever fully compensate.
I know truly wonderful adults who must have been wonderful babies and children, and who lost vast parts of their teen and adult years to various problems (drug addictions, legal problems) because of absolutely terrible parenting. But I don’t know any truly wonderful adults who started off as little sociopaths. (Meaning actual sociopaths as opposed to the typical antisocial tendencies of certain ages of young children.)
I think it’s easier for me to see this, maybe, because Frances is so easy. She’s obedient, friendly, fun, social, even-tempered–and I know I havne’t done anything. It would be sheer hubris for me to claim that her wonderful temperament is my doing. She just is that way, and I try very hard to back out of her way and let her be who she is. Strangely enough, I measure my parenting successes in how well I am able not to interfere.
October 17th, 2005 at 10:51 am
i’ve always said that my son is a perfect study for nature vs. nurture because he’s never met his biological father, and yet he is just like him. it’s incredibly exasperating to me, because ever since childhood i have been a perfectionist, A-student, teacher’s pet: a quiet bookish girl. my son is hyperactive, defiant, aggressive, and criminally mischievious.
when i was pregnant, my conservative brother used to joke that if i had a boy, he would probably grow up to be an effeminate artsy-fartsy girlie-man (he never came right out and said ‘fag’, but it was understood). on particularly bad days i wish he had been right.
my son is about to turn 7, and it has taken me almost this long to accept the fact that he is what he is, and no amount of discipline is going to make him become that quiet, submissive bookish child i hoped for (and his teachers still do). however, i am certain that if he were not to receive proper guidance and coaching, or if he were in an abusive environment, he would almost certainly end up in jail later in life.
October 17th, 2005 at 11:34 am
Has anyone read “Stardust Lounge” (Deborah Digges)? She writes about her troubled younger son and what she went thru to help right the ship. Interestingly, the son helped write the book, after he’d sort of found his way.
If you could take my kid, punch in her profile and say, “Just make sure she doesn’t see too many scary movies and you’re all set,” yes it would be a tremendous relief. Who doesn’t want to be freed of some of the awesome burden of these parenting decisions?
October 17th, 2005 at 12:56 pm
This subject is discussed (though not settled) in the recent book “Freakonomics”. It’s kind of a lightweight book, frankly — a bit more simplified than one might have liked — but still interesting. The author is an economist who likes applying statistical analysis to unlikely subjects. His analysis of parenting (and admittedly, good parenting is quantified by one of the few measurable effects: good test scores) suggests that it’s not what parents DO, but who they ARE, that is strongly correlated with how children turn out (test-wise).
I have often found myself feeling oddly embarrassed when other parents praise my son’s calmness, good sleep habits, or willingness to eat almost anything. They ask me how I did it, and I am acutely aware of having done NOTHING. Zero. It’s just the way he IS. I have to remind myself of that when faced with his shyness, his tendency to hit when frustrated, and his utter disinterest in pooping anywhere but his own bedroom.
Anyway. Just another data point for you.
October 17th, 2005 at 12:57 pm
My control study has been that I have fraternal twin daughters, so in a lot of ways I get to see what is nature, what is nurture. In some ways it’s too early to tell but in other ways, you can see that they deal with things in different ways– my girl Lucy dealt with a speech delay by biting when she got frustrated. My other girl got equally frustrated, but started crying instead, never biting. I think we have a good amount of influence, and so do whatever institutions we incorporate into our lives (church, school) but otherwise, the rest is up to who they are, and in a lot of ways, we have to get out of their way and just present ourselves as guidance.
October 17th, 2005 at 4:30 pm
In some ways the idea of genetic predetermination makes a lot of sense – my daughter is not even six months old and her personality and temperment are quite apparent already. On the other hand, from my own personal experience and that of most other people I know, our parents have played a crucial role in who we’ve become. Whether it’s wanting to be like one parent or refusing to grow up to be like another parent, most of my friends and family have been profoundly influenced by the environment in which they were raised.