Learning to Walk (While Being Shot in the Foot)

Learning to walk is the greatest life metaphor. Stand up, take baby steps, practice, fall down, get back up again, go, run. We have created and preached so many different variations of this metaphor - and the only time we actually meant it to its fullest definition was when we physically taught our children to walk.

Teaching our children to walk is the only thing we have actually taught them directly and purely – separate from our beliefs and prejudices, with actual honest support and enthusiasm. It is also the only time we do not judge them for being children.

Let’s relive the experience: The baby that has been lying down since the beginning of its life, dependent on others for physical support and getting from here to there, is now attempting to do these actions on his own. She begins to consciously and deliberately roll over, with each new movement showing her what she is beginning to have control over. His newly discovered arm strength allows him to push his body upward from the floor or bed and he realizes how much more he is able to see with the new vantage point. She sees something she wants to touch across the room and tries to reach for it with her arms. When he realizes he isn’t close enough, he might grab something close and pull himself in that direction. Then, she becomes aware that while her arms can pull her legs can push. His pulling with his arms and pushing with his legs becomes the crawl. Eventually, she will try to do what everyone else around her is doing and she will try to stand up.

At this point, we (his parents, family members, and friends) are watching him closely and getting excited about the world that is opening up for him. We are taking pictures, praising her and cheering her on. The first time he stands on his own is an Event and celebrated. She starts taking steps, and we encourage her to hold onto solid objects around her for support – we even offer our hands. When he tries to walk without support, we move things out of his way that could hurt him and we keep ourselves within his arms’ reach. All the while we are singing her praises, letting her know that we believe in her, encouraging her to keep trying. He falls down, and we comfort him and tell him that it’s okay and help him get back up again. She falls down again; this time we let her figure out how to get back up by herself, but we let her know that if she has trouble that we will help her. The first few steps he takes on his own are immortalized in film and shared with the world around us. Behold the child, taking his first steps!

And then, once they learn to walk, they are on their own. Honey, I can’t carry you; you are too heavy. No, son, you don’t need to be carried; you can walk.

After the child learns to walk, everything else he learns is by observing and modelling us and learning how to follow ‘the rules’. Our focus becomes less and less on them as individual, special beings as we incorporate ‘the rest of our lives’ into our time schedules, and their lives begin to seep into the category of obligation. We used to drop everything to grab the camera to record their ‘firsts’, but everything after that is old hat and not newsworthy. First lost tooth, first real potty accomplishment, first word (even first swear), first award, first visit with Santa … we show them that the firsts are the most important and that what comes after that is … well, secondary.

That is what they learn happens with them, too. I’ll get to you later, after I finish with work. Try to get a ride to soccer practice; I have a meeting. Honey, I have responsibilities.

Our time with them now is filled each passing day with less enthusiasm and more of a sense of responsibility. This is not what we want, or what we want to happen. We don’t plan it. We do still love and enjoy them, but real life seeps in. Now, we have to TEACH them about the world and its rules. We have to prepare them for What Is Coming Next.

What is coming next? Responsibility? Obligations? Hurt? Disappointment? Pain?

We send the child to daycare, preschool, and school, where specific rules are introduced and enforced. The originality they displayed as babies and new beings – that was once celebrated – is now shown as needed to be suppressed or stifled by set rules of conformity and societal norms. The excitement we showed at their signs of interest and exploration in anything has been tempered by the direction we feel we need to face them towards; You need to learn this first; there will be time later for the things you are interested in. They are taught the same way to be the same.

Like we were.

When they get older and try to ‘walk’ in different directions, we are no longer there for them – not as honestly as we were the first time. Now, we judge them for what they want to do and criticize them for how they go about it. We let our filters and beliefs decide our enthusiasm and support levels. You want to be like Hulk Hogan? Honey, you know wrestling is fake, right? You aren’t as big as he is and won’t be as strong. You should focus on something you can use your brain for. Do you know how many others want to be like him? Do you really think you have a chance? We ‘teach’ them conditions. You need to make money first (you need money to make money). He didn’t get where he is without connections. Do something reasonable first, then work your way up to that in your free time. If we don’t appreciate wrestling, we even teach them – by our actions, tone of voice, facial expressions, and (sometimes) direct words – that what they want to do or be is stupid, or embarrassing to us.

Then we tell them things we don’t really mean: You can be anything you want. Be yourself. If you want to go for something, put your heart into it. Of course, we don’t mean it. They have to follow certain rules, they can’t be too different, and they have real-life, important things that need to take up their time and attention first. They need to be realistic.

And we expect them to believe what we say? How, when we talk out of both sides of our mouths?

Even the basic schooling they are required to have has been proven to be misleading, omissive, altered, prejudiced, oppressive, and in some cases just wrong. Yet they are still being taught the same way the generations before them were. We teach them who their heroes should be by who made the most impact on society – these people that accomplished what they did by ignoring the rules. We teach that those that broke the rules are wonderful, but that they themselves can’t be because they can’t break the rules?

Thomas Edison said he failed at inventing the light bulb over 10,000 times, and he is considered one of the greatest inventors. We teach our kids that failure is ‘kind of okay’, but if you fail more than once you should give it up and try doing something else. Three strikes you’re out, right?

Thomas Edison’s passion and focus showed us that it doesn’t matter how many times you fall; you can still get up and succeed.

He showed us the proverbial light, and we are still in the dark. We teach our children that passion, focus and interest has a limit or ‘failure cap’; what they learn is that they are not worthy to be another Thomas Edison.

But, by all means celebrate the rule-breakers.

The children now are still learning to walk, in the metaphorical sense, but instead of the parental support, encouragement and happy enthusiasm they received from us when they were taking their first physical steps, we shoot them in the foot. Walk NOW, kid! We judge them for being too young to know who they are and how they feel about anything. We remind them that they are not Thomas Edison and that failure is an indication of quitting time. We make sure they are aware of all the odds against them (and we do that constantly). We tell them what and how they think is wrong. If they do try to make a difference or change the score we patronize them, telling them they are doing it wrong.

What if that is how we taught them to physically walk? Imagine this scenario:

The child is just starting to sit up and falls over. We laugh and sneer at his stupidity and youth. Look what he thinks he can do! When she is taking her first steps she falls down for the first time; we help her back up, but now we are unsure if she should try again and our hesitancy shows (we may even suggest she stay down). He tries to walk after falling once (despite our warnings); when he starts to wobble he reaches for our supportive hand, but we are not offering it as readily because we are not sure if he’s doing the right thing – and he falls again. Now, we help him up but tell him he may have made a mistake in trying to walk. She wants to try again; we’ve decided she’s on her own. Instead of encouraging him to try again we say things like: Are you sure you want to do that again? Look what happened last time. Maybe you should wait until you are bigger and smarter. We get worse, too: I don’t believe you can do it; you’ve fallen twice already. I can’t believe you are foolish enough to try again!

How many of us would have learned to walk under those conditions?

Over the years, children have tried to take stands against what they perceive to be injustices. We insult their perception because it is not our own and attempt to take away their voices by telling them they aren’t old enough to have one.

Teach them to walk, then shoot them in the foot.

The best example is the most current:

This generation’s children are taking the shooting a little more literally, in their schools. They are trying to make changes and taking their first steps towards stopping this pattern of behavior that seems to be increasing alarmingly. They are standing up, standing together, and speaking out. They are trying to bring attention to the both the problem and its components.

They are attempting to do what the country is trying to do about terrorism: acknowledge and identify the problem and take measures to prevent further terrorist attacks. They are doing the same thing on a smaller scale that we as a country are doing on a larger scale: trying to disarm their attackers.

They have two strikes against them right off the bat: they are kids, and their fight is with the inner establishment and big business.

They would have more support if they were battling another country. These children are essentially challenging their parents, and we won’t have that, will we?

Because we said so.

We play the age card: What could you know? You’re a kid. Even their supporters aren’t all totally supportive. Nice try, kid, but it’s not enough. You’re doing it wrong. Or, we discount the good they are trying to do by comparing it to the bad or stupid they did.

I read a social media post from a peer regarding a television interview with some survivors of the school shooting in Parkland, FL. While he did first say they made some good points and had some valid arguments, he negated his support immediately; a student declared that they were the generation that had to live with school shootings, and his response was both patronizing and demoralizing by mentioning that their generation had no business attempting to dictate national policy because they “are not smart enough to not eat the soap [re: Tide Pods]”

You’ll have to try to walk on your own. I’ve seen you fall; I’m not going to help an idiot. But, good luck, kid.

(None of us in our generation ever did anything stupid, did we?)

We allow our politicians and leaders to denigrate them with name-calling and age-shaming.

(Is it necessary to mention here that our behavior towards the children in this situation is the same behavior we ‘train’ them not to engage in?)

When do we begin to understand that ‘the norm’ is not always right, and that the only way of trying to make it right is to go against it? We say we understand this idea, yet try to squash those that actually attempt it – because they are going against the norm. Which is it? Do we really want to make things better? If we don’t think things are good now, obviously things have to change. How can we manage to create change if we try to keep everything the same?

If any of us sat back and thought about our own childhood, what would we discover? Did we have issues with our parents, our churches, our schools, or our government? Has anything changed? Did we change anything? Did we even try? If we tried to change anything, how well were our attempts received? How did we feel about how we were treated?

We all remember what that felt like, even if we deny it now – and we are denying it, otherwise our attitudes towards youth would be different now. Do we resent or fear children so much that we force them to endure what we went through and call it a rite of passage? To what end? To keep it all the same?

Our children (and the children of every generation) are a microcosm of the country. We can see the obvious parallels in high school cliques and hierarchies. What they’ve learned from our larger collective is what we’ve taught them in word and deed. They are our mirrors, reflecting back to us what we have been doing; ergo, their methods of rebellion are our own.

Technically, we should be flattered by their imitation, but we can’t be until we admit that the so-called idiots in the village have been raised by idiots.

It is not up to them to earn our respect. Respect is a mutual idea; it can be given but it can never be forced. To receive it, one must be willing to give it.

What is the point in teaching children to walk if we really don’t want them to?