On a recent little jag through some American classics, I came across two pretty exemplary parents- Atticus Finch (everybody's second favorite lawyer/dad combo), and Katie Nolan (the striving mother from A Tree Grows in Brooklyn). I was impressed with both of them, especially their relationships with their sometimes troubled and troubling kids. Despite their both being single parents, each had that kind of stalwart parental strength that kids take as a universal guarantee of security. But the most striking thing that both Atticus and Katie had in common was their unflinching refusal ever to deceive or mislead their kids, on any matter, great or small.
Atticus's honesty comes from a sort of aloof optimism. He seems to know that everything works itself out if you do what's right, and being honest is what's right, so he'll always be honest, even where doing so would make lesser parents squirm a little. But he also manages to deliver his harsh truth with enough legal jargon to lessen its impact on a little girl. When Scout asks him "Atticus, what is rape?" his unhesitating answer is "unlawful carnal knowledge of a woman by force and without consent." Hm. Not a bad way to explain it.
Katie Nolan's honesty comes from a pretty different place. She is driven by a defiant pessimism that makes her expect her kids' lives to be marked by harshness and difficulty. Her interactions with them are always meant to shore them up and strengthen their ability to fight through life. She seems to feel that any sugarcoating will leave her kids weak and thus unprepared to meet the world. When Francie gets harshly jilted by her first love, she cries for her mother and asks for solace. Katie reads the letter and doesn't say anything at all.
"Say something," demanded Francie. "Why don't you say something?"
"What can I say?"
"Say that I'm young-- that I'll get over it. Go ahead and say it. Go ahead and lie."
"I know that's what people say-- you'll get over it. I'd say it too. But I know it's not true. Oh, you'll be happy again, never fear. But you won't forget. And every time you fall in love it will be because something in the man reminds you of him."
Ouch. Thanks Mom. (she goes on to say that she probably should have had sex with him, because she'll never be in love like that again. So she's not a perfect mom, just an honest one).
Anyway, all this parental honesty has got me thinking. I think we all try to be honest with our kids. We know that if we lie, they will learn to lie too, and will do it just as easily as we do (if you don't believe me, see this convincing article). Despite this knowledge, and everyone's general agreement in the principle of honesty, it's incredibly easy to catch almost any parent in a lie. We lie all the time. I'm not really going to make Rex sleep on the roof if he doesn't stay in bed. My kisses don't really help Lucy's knee to feel any better. And I don't really think Rex is going to be a pro soccer player, either. These relationships are covered in a thousand different fictions that we half expect our kids to believe and half know they'll wink at and see right through. (another really cute example can be found here- and Ange, I promise I had written this post before I read yours!)
So I'm wondering if I should give that all up and just let my kids deal with pure, naked truth at all times. I know they trust me and Macy-- they trust us deeply. But Scout and Francie don't just trust Atticus and Katie. Each knows that of all the people in their strange worlds, there is one person who will always give them an answer with nothing more and nothing less than unadorned truth. That's a precious thing to have. They save up the questions to which they must have a real answer, and go to their single source of truth, reasoning that Atticus, or Katie, will never lie to them.
Rex and Lucy are too young to formulate a desire for that kind of honesty, but I bet they still know in their subconscious that most of the hard truths they get from us will come in a spoonful of sugar. And that's not such a bad thing for kids that age. But I wonder if I have it in me to evolve to an Atticus or Katie. I'm trying to think of the hard questions I may confront as they grow, and honestly, I don't even know what they'll be. But I do know that if one thing absolutely terrifies me, it's the thought of being a parent of teenagers. And I'm sure that fear could press me into a few white lies from time to time, trying to soften the world for them, or seeking to deceive them into thinking their flaws are smaller than they are. But if both Macy and I go that route, then none of our kids will have that one icon of perfect integrity, in whose answers they can always trust without question. That's sort of sad too.
Being that perfectly honest parent would be really, really hard. I guess Katie tells herself that she'd rather be the one hurting her daughter than let some cad do it. Given that I don't share her pessimism, that's not very motivating for me. But I am fully aware, as she is, that life will be hard for our kids. I just don't know if I'm honest enough to prep them for it that way.
So where do you come out? Absolute honesty all the time, without any sugar on top, or something more . . . flexible?
Ike , Tenley and Lucy in Toon Town.
Annie and Ali with the kids at the Huntington Beach Fourth of July parade.
Lucy driving the boat too.
Molly and Ollie loving their life jackets...they looked so funny!
Lucy and Ryan dancing on the party boat, and let me tell you it was quite the p-a-r-t-y!
