I was sold on The Price of Privilege by Madeline Levine, Ph. D the minute my friend Sheri described it to me. It seemed written with our community here in Boca Raton in mind. Two years ago I moved here from a neighborhood of "collaborative" parenting to an atmosphere of "competitive" parenting. I don't believe that the competitive parents are in the majority, but they are very vocal and obtrusive, often leaving those who don't fit their mold of family and parenting feeling judged and condescended to. Additionally, our community is "blessed" with affluence and my concern since I have moved here is how to continue to raise my children with the values that are important to us while surrounded by people who value external beauty over kindness, money over character and possessions over people. This is challenging in a world where 11 year olds simply must have shirts from Abercrombie or feel like hopeless losers, where a 13 year old is teased for having a "fake" Dooney & Bourke purse and where a 40-something Mom is asked, "Whose purse is that?" When I responded, "Mine." I realized that what was really being asked was what brand the purse was...I think it was Target which I don't think would be considered the "who" they were looking for.
In an early chapter, The Paradox of Privilege, in a section provocatively titled, "Why Kids Who Have So Much Can Feel Empty" I found myself reaching for the highlighter as I read this passage:
"Parents who consistently fall on the side of intervening for their child, as opposed to supporting their child's attempts to problem-solve, interfere with the most important task of childhood and adolescence: the development of a sense of self. Autonomy, what we commonly call independence along with competence and interpersonal relationships, are considered to be inborn human needs. Their development is central to psychological health."
Of course, we always highlight the sections that support and underscore our personal beliefs. But more poignantly for me, this passage summarized a basic dichotomy between seemingly similar parents and in my case, was partially the cause of the dissolution of a friendship that I valued. And during that same week, I heard of another incident where parents differing on how much to intervene in a rift between adolescent friends resulted in an unpleasant situation between the adults. So, I surmise that this is a more common occurrence than I had imagined before I experienced it firsthand.
"Intrusion and support are two fundamentally different processes: support is about the needs of the child, intrusion is about the needs of the parent."
As one friend said, "It's a fine line. I try to walk the line. Sometimes I cross it, but I try to walk it." It is something we struggle with as parents. I remember a child in preschool whose bite marks always seemed to end up on my daughter's sweet, pudgy little arms. Now the bite marks aren't evident, but the wounds are much more painful and the scars last longer. When my child comes home with tales of meanness, deception and duplicity, the feral mother instinct compels me to lash out at the perpetrator, blame the sad excuses for parents and raise hell until the right is wronged. But there is also a part of me that recognizes that:
a) there might be times when MY child (yes, my child is less-than-perfect) is the perpetrator.
b) there may actually be two (or sometimes three or four) sides to the story and my child's perspective may be slightly skewed to downplay any culpability she might have.
c) I have to help her learn to deal with and work out these difficult situations without parental interference, while also knowing that we are here as a safety net.
The book goes on to say:
"America's newly identified at-risk group is preteens and teens from affluent, well-educated families. In spite of their economic and social advantages, they experience among the highest rates of depression, substance abuse, anxiety disorders, somatic complaints, and unhappiness of any group of children in this country."
Is this ironic? We are the generation that started doing things like "waiting until we could afford it" to have our children. We planned our financial moves around when our children would be in college. We felt that if they could have more advantages (material advantages as well as intangibles like travel, access to cultural events, etc.), then certainly they would be happier and more successful!
The book goes on to address the overscheduling of our children, the intense pressure to succeed and the focus on results over process. It makes the distinction between parents being able to provide activities and parents actually being "present", knowing their children and accepting them even when they don't fit into the mold. Surprisingly, "there is an INVERSE relationship between income and closeness to parents."
Materialism has made luxuries into necessities. Materialism has made "retail therapy" a realistic strategy instead of a tongue-in-cheek euphemism for shopping. What happens when this generation goes off on their own and maybe on their starter salary cannot afford to buy a new outfit at the mall because they had a bad day with a co-worker? When financial success for the purpose of amassing possessions becomes the raison d'etre of one's career, important issues like personal satisfaction, interpersonal relationships and philanthropy become optional and are not recognized as fulfilling aspects of one's self.
One tiny issue I have with the author is one incident of a flippant reference to antidepressants: "Much better for your son to find out early on that he's not suited to being a lawyer before wasting ten years in a profession he hates and relying on Prozac to get him through the day." I think this passage perpetuates the common misnomer that Prozac (and all antidepressants) are "happy pills". There are plenty of people who are not suited to their careers who do not experience depression as a side-effect and many people who love their jobs who do rely on Prozac...not to get them through the day per se, but to manage the chemical imbalance in their brains that causes depression.
Although the premise and initial assertions of this book grabbed me because I felt they connected to my own beliefs, there were plenty of things in the book that made me cringe with self-realization. I certainly don't have this whole thing figured out. Just a couple weeks ago, talking with a friend about "the line" when asking her advice about whether or not I should intervene in a particular situation, she responded by saying, "I want to intervene in certain situations because in addition to my children learning to handle things themselves, I want them to learn that there is always someone to turn to who can help you handle a situation." Well said...and it has made me think as this book does.
I believe that books on parenting are not meant to be sets of commandments or Gospel to be quoted and adhered to, but are supposed to provide parents with insights into themselves, a better understanding of others and challenges to their own paradigms. The Price of Privilege has accomplished that in a way that makes me want to go out and buy a copy for everyone I know. Wouldn't it be great if we had all read the book and instead of judging one another for our parenting choices we could openly discuss the reasons behind and the ramifications of our choices.
I know there is only more and more of this coming down the line for me as my kids get to the ages where kids are driving, well-meaning parents are providing beer at parties in their homes, parents are bragging about SAT scores and writing college entrance essays. I feel now like I have a resource for when I feel myself sneaking over the line and needing to pull myself back!
Di
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