The Choice Isn't Yours

I just finished Jaycee Dugard's memoir, "A Stolen Life." She was abducted on the way to school when she was eleven and did not resurface until 18 years later. She lived in a squalid collection of sheds and tents in a large hidden backyard, and bore her captor's two daughters when she was 14 and 17. At an age when many of today's youth are just leaving the nest, she'd endured a lifetime of abuse and somehow managed to retain enough strength and kindness to have done well nurturing children and pets.

Of course she reflects that, as a kid, she was relieved not to have had to go to the dentist or to deal with social issues in school while she was living in captivity, but she also did not have the opportunity to grow into an adult who had experience making decisions and standing on her own two feet. She had no choices. When she was taken out of that environment by law enforcement officials, she was not at all equipped to function in the world. Thankfully, help has come from many different sources including excellent reunification therapy. It sounds like she and her family will do just fine.

It occurs to me that many people, having their kids' best interests in mind, shelter them to a great degree and they have the same kinds of anxieties and uncertainties about going out into the real world. What kind of bread or milk to buy when heading into the grocery store? Does this sweater go in the washing machine or to the dry cleaner? What happens if the deli person makes a mistake -- eat the wrong sandwich or speak up? etc. etc.

No one has the magic wand to create a capable adult. Building this impressive creature is a process. Bit by bit, through trial and error, reinforcement of good and dismissal of bad, laughter and tears. It should be done to a large extent before the adult goes out into the world, though. If not, we get the "sink or swim" situation, and it's tough for a person to calmly sort out possible alternatives and choose the right one when in the middle of a "fight or flight" moment. Monday morning quarterbacking can be painful if done on one's own, and can erode confidence if it contributes to "poor poor pitiful me" instead of being a learning tool.

I endeavor to recall this incredible woman's words as I continue to do the parenting thing.