SumQuodSum

If you’d asked me long ago what it was I looked most forward to in life, I would have said, “Being a father.” I still rate being a father as one of the best all-time experiences. It’s also, however, one of the most challenging responsibilities I’ve faced. I find parenting to be a continual tug-o-war between protecting my children and giving them enough slack to make their own choices and experience the resulting consequences. Sometimes those consequences can be more than I want to see my children experience; as a result I sometimes find myself stepping into save them.

I currently find myself embroiled in a challenge I never expected — that of motivating my always eager to please son to engage in school. I think motivating children to engage in school is often a challenge for many parents; some more than others. What frustrates all involved in this current struggle is the need for tough love. Tough love is necessary, however, if I intend to meaningfully re-engage Connor in school.

He’s found popularity at school, discovered the joy of music, and purchased a laptop computer. Each a nemesis to the parents desiring to motivate their child to complete his homework, read books, practice bass guitar, clean his room, get ready for football practice, and the like — you get the idea. Each a hinderance to him reaching his potential as a student. While these distractions will by no means define my son in terms of character, talent, or desire, they don’t do a lot to inspire his scholarly motivation(s).

Interestingly, in the early years of my teaching career (before the births of Connor and Megan), it was not uncommon for a parent to call me at school desperately searching for advice on how to parent their son or daughter. Not being a parent myself, I found myself easily and readily espousing the tough love approach. Take this away from your daughter, take that away from your son. Make sure they have a specific place to study and that you take an active role in their academic success. I threw everything at them but the kitchen sink. Oh how easy it was to give the advice. While I head the advice I once shared, I must admit it is with great difficulty.

I’m frequently told by my students, “Your children must be smart. They must be good at math and science since you teach math and science.” I usually respond with a modest thanks for their perceptions of my children. I further state to my students that while I do believe my children to be smart, talented, what have you, they also live up to some high expectations at home. I explain to my students that Connor and Megan have a lot of structure and it is this structure that results in the positive gains we’ve seen them reap.

When Connor and Megan come home from school, they get a break and a snack. After about half an hour, they are expected to sit down and study. It’s not that simple, however. They need to be supported and directed through these efforts. They rely on us to read spelling words to them so that they can practice for Friday spelling tests. They depend on us to check their math homework for mistakes so that they can fix them. They sometimes require our redirection as they can be easily distracted. Interestingly, my students often respond to my descriptions of our homework regimen with comments like, “Boy you’re strict Mr. Fredericks” or “I wouldn’t want to be your child.” Sadly my students wouldn’t want to be my child for the very reasons they probably need my parenting — structure, support, and guidance.

So, what’s the point? I suppose the point is that while we can provide all of the structure in the world for our children to be successful, it still takes a lot of work on our parts, as parents, to ensure that our children are properly supported in reaching their fullest potentials as human beings via these structures.

Parenting a child is not a task that should be taken lightly. While it’s easy to selfishly avoid the responsibilities of providing our children what they need in terms of structure, support, and guidance, I beleive it’s equally, and more importantly, selfish to hold them accountable for the hard work it takes to create their futures.