Nurturer’s Manifesto
October 10th, 2020
Starring: Nurturer (70-90)
Nurturer lies in bed, alone.
NURTURER
I had six kids. They’re all fuckups in some way or another.
What percent nature, what percent nurture? Jury’s out.
I know if I had to do it all over again, I would not tell them they could become whatever they wanted to be.
I’d be equally supporting, loving, and self-sacrificing. I would only make it clear that there are limits.
When you tell a kid there’s no limit to their potential, one of two outcomes occur:
Outcome one, the child gets imaginative. They see work as a source of happiness, an invitation to follow their dreams. The result is every kid racing to be the same five things: doctor, lawyer, banker, coder, celebrity. Most of them feel important, but are entirely redundant. Their talents could be better used elsewhere, but they stay because they are happy. Lost value.
Outcome two, the child gets scared. They see work as a source of uncertainty, something they’ll eventually have to make up their mind about. The world is an overload of options, avenues, majors. They dibble here, dabble there, trying to find a place to fit. When they finally settle, their motivation’s lost. Clock in, clock out. Lost value.
There was a time when work wasn’t everything. You were what you were told to be, not what you wanted to be. Trades were passed down through generations, your career path decided the day you were born. Both outcomes settled. That’s that.
But we’re not in Medieval times. We’re in a free-market, Capitalist society, and nobody likes a dream squelcher.
So if I had to do my do-over all over
I would still tell my kids they could become whatever they wanted to be.
I just wouldn’t feel as guilty when they didn’t.