Parenting, Punishment, and Protesting

Did you know that in the great state of Georgia it is possible for a parent to bloody a child's lip and chip his teeth with closed-hand blow to the mouth, and the police will decide that because the child was talking back to the parent, the blow is an acceptable form of punishment?  Did you also realize that in the great state of Georgia if that same child attempts to fight back or strikes the adult, it can be decided that the child is the one committing the crime?  Never mind that the child is cornered by an adult twice his size with the adult grabbing and twisting the child's arms to "get him to settle down."  Never mind that the adult in question is the child's parent.  Never mind that it is the nature of pre-teens and teens to talk back as they stretch their wet wings, getting ready for the flight into adulthood.  Never mind that parents should have a host of tools in their arsenal for dealing with the host of issues that arise.  Oh, and in this case, let us throw in that the disagreement that led to the argument that led to the blows that led to the cornering began with the child sharing some opinions that the parent simply didn't like.  

Maybe this kind of thing is at the root of protesters at pride parades and festivals around the country. Maybe the protesters feel that the people who attend pride events are sharing something about themselves that the protesters don't like.  So, since they can't strike a physical blow to the mouth of the pride attendees, they attempt to strike a mental or emotional one.  Maybe the thought process goes something like this:

1.  Pride attendee:  I want to attend this event to have fun, be happy, and communicate who I am.

2.  Protester:  I don't like who this person is.

3.  Protester:  I want to hit this person because he is different from me.

4.  Protester:  I can't hit this person because I might go to jail.

5.  Protester:  I will protest with a vitriolic sign and shout mean slogans to try to harm this person.

I don't know.  I don't think like this.  I want to believe that people in general don't believe that literally or figuratively popping someone else in the mouth will make the injured party change their ways or agree with the attacker, but history proves me wrong.  Indeed, the root of the vast majority of local and global conflicts start with one group deciding that others should not be different.  

Here's the thing:  in the great state of Georgia a parent doesn't have to employ the fourth and fifth lines of the thought dialogue.  A parent can simply decide that he does not like the child's opinions. Then, if unsuccessful in changing the child through argument, the parent can hit the child in order to silence the child or attempt to force the child to the parent's way of thinking.  In doing this, the parent has not committed a crime.  Even though in the above thought dialogue, had the protester decided to hit the attendee, he would most likely be charged with a crime.

I am the mother of three boys.  Over the years they have told me thousands of wonderful, silly, witty, alarming, scary, tear-soaked, clever, mundane, sad, worrisome, joyous, pride-inducing, and just plain old fun things about themselves.  Never once in any scenario has my first thought been to strike them.  No matter how earth-shattering the announcement was (although it is incredibly hard to surprise me), have I ever thought, "I don't like that.  I'm going to hit you."  What kind of person does? 

The history of corporal punishment in Georgia schools is still being created because it is still legal.  In fact, corporal punishment is legal in 19 states nationwide.  In Poland corporal punishment in schools was outlawed in 1783.  Georgia state code has three sections that regulate corporal punishment in public schools.  Yes. These are laws about the proper situations, people, and settings in which corporal punishment should be administered in a public school setting.  If there are laws regulating who can strike the children in this state when they are at school, it may be no wonder that a bloodied lip and chipped teeth are seen as a perfectly fine form of parenting. 

Here’s the thing:  no matter their ages, our children will have enough bumps and bruises in their lives. The world will beat them up pretty good - it is not our parental duty to prime that pump. We don't need to inure them to the pain of the world.  No matter who a person is, he will get his lip bloodied in life.  More than once.  Parents need to love the kids when they are smelly and weird and silly, and even and especially when they tell us something we might not want to hear.   We should model how we wish the world would be:  accepting and wonderful and loving.  It is our job to teach children that the world is a wonderful, fascinating, wildly varied place where, yes, they will see a protester along the way, but where, ultimately, they can be their wonderful, fascinating, wildly varied selves. 

Center Stage

Whenever a musical came around in high school, I would like to tell you I was the star of the show.   This would be a lie.  The first musical I tried out for was Oklahoma!  I tried out to be a dancer in the chorus.  I was told that I wasn’t cast because I was on the basketball team, and rehearsals and practice would conflict.  The truth?  I can’t carry a tune in a bucket, and I’m not all that graceful.  Perhaps the two activities did collide – whatever the case, I was relegated to stage crew.  No one headed up make up, so I took over.  I organized, sorted, and matched the needed hues to the whole cast -  I was in charge.  I did the eyeliner on the guys and advised the girls.   I doled out the foundation sticks, highlighted cheek bones, and kept everyone stage ready at all times.  No melting under my watchful care.

I remember one particular incident when I was trying to line Lee’s eyes.  In fact, it was for the drama/comedy You Can’t Take It With You.  I was in the play, but somehow was still doing make-up, as well.  Lee was having none of it – convinced I was performing some sort of back alley lasik on him, he fidgeted and cursed   At final dress rehearsal, I was kneeling next to his chair, trying to finish his make-up so I could go get mine done. Fidget. Curse. Fidget. Curse.  Finally, in an exasperated huff, I elbowed him in the crotch.  One more curse.  Then he sat still.  And every night thereafter. It wasn't that Lee didn't want his eyes lined – he knew he had recessed sort of piggish eyes that just do not stand out on stage without help.  So, what was it then?  In retrospect, I’d say Lee took pride in being different and difficult.  And, he wanted to do his own make-up.  Fast forward to his junior year and Lee could apply his own eyeliner.  He still cursed and probably fidgeted; I didn't have to deal with it, but we weren't really on good terms either.

Just last week, my 11 year-old son, Nate, got his ear pierced.  With my blessing and my thirty-six dollars.  He had wanted to do so for about six months, and I put him off.  He did the pre-pubescent equivalent of fidgeting and cursing:  hounding me.  Every time he thought of it:  in the middle of the night, while driving to Kroger, pumping gas. By putting Nate’s request off, I was in control.  I was kneeling by his chair, trying to make him look the way that his dad insisted him to for the world.   I knew his father (my ex-husband) would not approve of a piercing, but when push came to shove, my son had good reasons for wanting it, and I saw no valid reason to deny him a show of self-expression.  And, any thinking parent of an adolescent will tell you that if an earring and an occasional weird haircut are as bad as it gets, you’re batting 1.000 in the teen parent league.  However, upon informing his father of this fact, dear old dad kindly banned my son from his home and his mother (son’s grandmother) quickly followed suit. 

My son offered to cover the offending 3mm stud with a small, skin tone bandage while visiting his dad and grandmother.  This offer was firmly declined.  He was then subjected to a litany of reasons why earrings were not for boys:  not socially acceptable, not Biblical, buying into Hollywood propaganda, earrings are only for girls, your mother made you do this, you are embracing the homosexual lifestyle.  The list actually does go on – in a similarly ridiculous way.

The fact of the matter is that he wanted to get his ear pierced for legitimate reasons:  it makes him feel cool; his brothers both have one; he likes it.  Simple.  But, what he really wanted, was some control.  He wanted me to quit kneeling by the chair; he wanted control over one square inch of ear lobe realty.  A boy, starting middle school in the fall, wanting to have some control of his own body?  Seems reasonable.  Seems plausible.  And, if you've been a pre-pubescent boy, it’s nice to control something about your ever-changing body.  Not really that big of a deal despite father’s and grandmother’s alarm that the yawning mouth of hell was opening, ready to swallow him whole. 

One might argue that I could have avoided all of this by not allowing the piercing.  By putting him off.  By kneeling next to the chair, demanding to be in control.  We have all seen our share of kids who went down questionable paths when denied the right to self-expression. Nate is verging on being the age where he does, in fact, get to start making his own decisions, and this is a minute one in the grand scheme of things.  I don’t want to have to throw an elbow to the groin, so I’ll let him grow his hair and have an earring.  It is his turn in the limelight.  I’m happy for him.  He is doing his own eyeliner.  After all, I don’t need to take center stage here; my only job to make sure that he doesn't melt under the glare of the lights.