Parenting and teaching have changed me. At one time I was a very black and white thinker. Through more than two decades of parenting and almost that many years of interacting with students, my firm, almost rigid beliefs about almost everything have been challenged and shaped. I am not the person I once was, nor do I want to be.
One of the lessons that I have learned is that there is always more to a situation than first meets the eyes. Let’s say a student walks into my class late, unprepared, and seemingly unengaged. It would be easy to assume that this student is apathetic about my class specifically, and perhaps education in general. However, a closer look might reveal that the student was doing everything he could to get to my class on time, but his parents had their own timetable — they made him stay up to take care of a younger sibling all night, they got home from work late in the morning, and then made my student wait while they showered before they brought him to school. My student wanted to complete the homework, but his sibling was demanding. He wanted to be on time, but he had no alternate way to get to class. Or, let’s say one of my children is snarky, disrespectful, and seemingly bent on opposing every direction I give. I might assume that my role is to demand respect, give firmer demands, and heap on consequences, but a closer look, and some long hours of listening, may uncover some deep pain that the child is afraid, even ashamed, to share with me. Acting out is not the problem; it’s a symptom.
Another lesson is that there is always a third option. “Mrs. Rathje, should I study education or medicine?” “Mom, should I run track or play soccer?” “Would it be better if I took this job or if I didn’t work at all?” My answer to all of the above, “Is there a third option?” Why not consider a career as a nurse educator? Is there any other sport or activity that seems interesting to you? Is there a different job you could consider? more schooling? service learning?
Too often I have found myself trapped in either/or thinking:
- Do I want to be a vegetarian or eat meat?
- Am I a night person or a morning person?
- Do I like contemporary or traditional worship?
- Am I conservative or liberal?
- Should I teach or write?
- Am I a Spartan or a Wolverine.
Don’t be ridiculous, that last one was just to see if you were still paying attention.
In my earlier life, I found it comforting to ‘choose a side’. I was forming my identity, after all. I wanted to find my place. It felt too risky to remain fluid. I wanted the security of saying that I was Lutheran or Republican. I wanted a box to check. I was anti-Disney, pro-Life, for the environment, and against dying my hair.
Here’s the thing: putting myself in those boxes positioned me against those who put themselves in other boxes. If I liked only wheat bread, I might judge someone who only bought white bread. If I only shopped at Kroger, I might look down on someone who only shopped at Wal-Mart. I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to listen to why they preferred white bread or Wal-Mart. I knew who I was and that I was right. No discussion needed.
Yeah, it limited me. I cut myself off from all kinds of people and experiences. Enter my children. And my students. Early on they were willing to listen to whatever I had to say. They were pliable. They wanted to please me. But over time, as they developed minds of their own, they began to question my positions. They began to challenge my opinions.
How dare they? I did not like this at all!! After all, I had been being right for so long. If I allowed myself to think differently, I was admitting that I had been — gasp — wrong!
But not really. That was some more either/or thinking. Once upon a time I held certain opinions based on what I knew at the time. Over the years, I have had many experiences that have taught me. So, based on what I know now, some of my opinions have changed. That, my friends is called human growth and development.
And here is the most important thing that I have learned. Life is complex. Every belief is multi-faceted. I can, for instance, like the story line of The Lion King and still hate the over commercialization of Disney, or, for that matter, its portrayal of female characters. These opinions can co-exist. I can understand the health benefits of whole grains and still appreciate a nice loaf of French white bread. I can appreciate Wal-Mart’s low prices and still object to the business practices of the Waltons. I can enjoy both meat and vegetables or choose to be a strict vegetarian, but only on the weekdays.
The amazing human mind is capable of far more complexity than we give it credit for. We limit its capacity to grow when we compartmentalize ideology into false dichotomies.
And that, my friends, the mother learned from her children; the teacher learned from her students.
It is not only the old[b] who are wise,
not only the aged who understand what is right.