Portraits of the Patriarchy
Father Time examines the progressive shift in modern fatherhood
Part 2
I once asked a co-worker of mine—who is also a father of two boys—for any advice as I raise my own sons. Looking back, John said, he wished he would have realized that every moment is teachable. His sons are now out of high school and starting the next phase of their lives. Take every opportunity to show them some kind of skill or lesson, John said.
I’ve taken his counsel to heart, and find myself always trying to give my sons some nugget of fatherly wisdom. I’ll often hear Whitney Houston singing in my head that children are the future, teach them well, and let them lead the way, etc., etc. I also hear another small voice saying, “Just let them figure it out. You can’t helicopter over them their whole lives.”
As a dad at the beginning of my fatherhood journey, I’ve found this is one of the most difficult challenges of all: deciding when to step in or step back. I tend to step in more than I need to, and the unintended consequence is that your children start teaching you. Since they mimic your every move and emotion, they’re super quick to school you on something you have spent so much time trying to instill in them.
On a walk the other day, my two-and-a-half-year-old had collected some random junk off the sidewalk: a bottle cap, a rubber band, a piece of tree bark. He asked if I would hold it. “No,” I said. “What are you doing picking up trash?” And just as I was about to throw it back on the ground, it hit me that I was doing exactly what I had taught him not to do: litter.
As a toddler, he was just doing his job, collecting loot where available. What presented itself for Father, however, was a two-for-one teachable moment.
“Son, this is garbage. Thank you for picking it up.”
Also, “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”
He understood neither, and so I pocketed the junk, and then we moved on.
I don’t intend to be a walking book of proverbs and aphorisms, but in those rare moments when my children are pulled away from whatever has their attention, and when they actually do need (and want!) me, I hope to give them more than just a smile or a pat on the back. I’d like for them to learn something, even if it’s a tiny distinction about the world. They may not use Dad’s Wise Wisdom at that very moment, but maybe something will stick, maybe when they need to make a choice, they’ll know what to do.
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