Month: January 2011 (Page 5 of 7)

Random confessional for the day: both of the words “defense” and “offense” require me to mentally do a high school cheer before I’m able to spell them correctly. I don’t do the motions, just the words. Well, in this case, syllables, because the cheers previously mentioned were just a spelling of the word, followed by “let’s go de/offense!” with an off-beat clap. But enough about me and my shortcomings in the world of spelling.

I’m reading a new old book. It’s new to me, thanks to the 50% off sale at Stately Raven, but come to find out, it’s 10 years old. In the sociology research world, I think that’s a qualifier that the book should’ve been on a 30% discount prior to the going-out-of-business sale. Which, if I may take the liberty, I’d like to tell the SR is the reason they’re going out of business. Just some personal opinion commentary. Enjoy it for free, someday ESPN might want me.

So, the book. The Overspent American. The author should’ve bought a lottery ticket when she wrote it as she nailed it on the head. It’s about the progressive spending and the socio-cultural influences our our economic behavior. I know, I know, why can’t I just enjoy some trashy romance novel like the normal girls do?

But here’s what I can offer society, other than just the 10 minutes back they’ve spent reading this post: we need to a bit of a defensive educational attack in the world of econ. Like a full-court, trapping press.  Allow me to expand.

Marketing is an optional course offered by many high schools. I know this because my husband is licensed to teach it. It focuses on how to brand and market a product so to get people to buy it. If one were to want to invent something, or go into the world of publicity and advertising, this would be a helpful starting ground. Or perhaps help you change your mind. I could come up with several other benefits a high school student might gain from the course: how to get elected class president, how to convince the school that fried cheese is not an acceptable main course for the cafeteria lunch, or as a way to successfully sell black market school spirit t-shirts that say “We Will Ram Ewe.” Just to start.

But what if we were to use a marketing curriculum to help teenagers defend themselves from campaigns that, in their limited rational times of thinking, they realize they need not be a part of? What if we helped students to learn how others are preying upon their fears of failure, their insecurity when it comes to their appearance and their aptitude for success? What if we helped them become indignant about the fact that other people are getting rich off of their lack of critical thinking and blindly believing everything they hear and see about what is right, cool and necessary for a happy, successful life?

We can teach kids to be part of the problem, or part of the solution. Perhaps I should talk to a business education teacher about this…

Growing up, my dad would get quite frustrated when driving with my Grandpa Bill. As they were navigating the interweaving country roads, Dad would ask, “which way?” and Grandpa would respond “either way can get you there.” Dad felt this was not a helpful response as, in his Tom-nature, it wasn’t most efficient. Now that I’m a parent, I wonder if Grandpa was on to something.

Grandpa didn’t just know and teach the Mapquest turn-by-turn, but he laid out the entire map. Grandpa could just teach dad that the way to X is a left, a right and a left. But what if Dad needed to go someplace near X? Those directions weren’t completely helpful. Or what if the right-turn road was closed? How do you navigate construction?

Instead, Grandpa introduced his kids to the entire landscape. And I’m pretty sure there was some historical commentary along the way (such as, “over there is where your brother put the tractor in the ditch”). This way, when one would get lost or veer in a different direction, they would know a route that would ultimately lead them home.

I’ve done more than my fair share of calling Dad to get directions. There was the time that Sister & I missed the exit to 31 when coming home from Columbus. Or the time that JJ and I drove aimlessly through middle-of-nowhere-Champaign-county. And thankfully my dad willingly provides his GPS-like skills, sometimes within the context of a good chuckle. I’m grateful that he’s been exposed to more of the terrain and can offer direction for a the route home.

I hope that, as a parent, I show my kids the map and take them on long country drives. Not only is it good quality time, but I’ll have hope that they’ll learn that all roads can get you home. You just have to know where home is located and be willing to turn around once in a while.

It always excites me to a) chat with people in a coffee shop b) drink candy coffee c) spend time with youngins (aka high school and college students). Thus, this morning served as time well spent. And I love that the nature of such time always leads me to think more reflectively; the “teacher” always ends up the student.

On the surface, you’d think that Her issues were simply the classic struggles of a high school girl and dating. Sure, those struggles are there. But beyond the first line of discussion, you find that she wrestles with questions about what she wants from life, how to keep an honest relationship with her parents and what it is she’s looking for in deep relationships with others. All very, very good questions.

It made me (as previously mentioned) reflect upon the role of parenting. I started to wonder: what if my job is not to get my kids to answer or act in the right way, but to ask the right questions? What if, over the course of time, my kids desire something other than what I had planned for them (because we all know I’m a planner). Wouldn’t my time be better spent helping them ask questions that will lead them to fulfilling and God-glorifying paths?

Rather than teaching kids “this person is not a good influence on you”, could I teach my kids to ask “what are you looking for in life? how do the people you spend time with bring that out?” Rather than teaching “a college degree is the way to be” could I ask “what do you want from life and what resources do you need and steps can you take to get there?”

This is still hypothetical. There certainly must be holes in my theory. Especially at the toddler level. I suspect the methods and approaches for teaching children will change and evolve as they do, but I think guiding principles and philosophies will stay the same. What is my goal and my job as a parent, and how can I best live it out?

I know, it’s pretty deep for noon on a Saturday.