Reality and Our Children

I read an interesting article in the magazine North Texas Child titled, "The Hopelessly Hopeful Generation." Here's part of the article:

"'So, where do you see yourself in five years?'

'Well, to be honest, I see myself in a job that allows me to travel and not sit behind a desk. I want to do something that gives me the flexibility to come and go as I please, help the environment in some way and make enough money to have a house here and maybe a place in California.'

Real conversation. My 19-year-old intern was the one who gave me this very interesting answer. And she wasn’t kidding. Not even a hint of a smile. I nearly bit through my lip holding back a belly laugh...

Millennials drive me nuts. They’re needy, they talk with their peers about salaries, they’re needy and, did I mention, they’re needy. They’re smart, they’re super-connected and they’re so darn positive about the future it makes me want to barf. Unlike most of my demographic, these folks are happy with the present and very encouraged about the future, especially since they plan to own their own country, save the whales and cure all disease.

What should a father of one elementary school-aged child and another who’s heading into eighth grade do with all this invaluable information? How do I feed them the right amount of the positive aspects of this group while holding back the stuff that’s toxic? Well, first things first, but the economy stinks like a Russian gulag. My 7-year-old has only known parents who’ve been worried about job cuts, high gas prices and budgeting every last nickel. I think that’s a good thing overall. It gives them a burst of reality.

On the other hand, when I glance at both of my kids’ mantels, I do see a lot of trophies. Trophies for excellence, sure, but plenty of trophies just for showing up. So yes, I confess, I’m a helicopter parent. A Blackhawk helicopter parent.

So as I make light of the Millennials that surround me every day, I’d better look in the mirror because I might just be grooming two future stars of the Millennial generation, complete with their iPhones, passports and Peace Corps brochures."

I have been struck by the fact that parents often shield their children from reality and this article made me think about this fact even more. The girl that was interviewed has some pie in the sky dreams. Maybe when she finds that work takes work, maybe she'll dive in and be a go getter and maybe do some of the things she dreams of. Or, maybe when she finds out work takes work she'll become discouraged and feel like she's failed life.

Our children find themselves caught in a net of parental shielding. This means we tell them how superior they are and for fear they will learn this isn't so we make sure they all get the trophy. Don't get me wrong. My child is loved and has value because God made her and loves her. But that doesn't mean that she should always get the award or that work won't take work.

One phrase I just hate is "You can be anything you want," because it is just plain not true. Our children are designed with certain talents and skills. This means they will be good at some things and not others. And that also means they will not be able to do anything they want. I wish we would stop saying they can be anything they want and start observing them and saying, "I've noticed you are really good at _______. God can use that talent/skill. Can you think of some ways he can use it in your life?" Wouldn't it be nice to include them in the dialogue and encourage them to capture the special abilities God has given them rather than just generally telling them they can be anything they want?

What we need to do is encourage what our children can do and encourage the hard work that it will take to utilize that ability in excellence. We let them in on the reality that achieving doesn't come from wishing, that you don't just get the job, the post, the position because you want it. We teach them how to navigate in real life. We stop shielding and start discussing the truth so that when it comes to the day they leave our nest, they fly away with their dreams and a heavy dose of reality.