Of Haleakala and Hobbits

We thought it would be a good idea to take the kids yesterday up to the crater on top of Haleakala, Maui's volcano. It wasn't. We thought they'd be interested in seeing it and the surrounding views. They weren't. It wasn't fun. The kids moped, as the above picture captures. Mark kept reminding me: "Some day, the kids will look back on this and be glad they'd seen it." Hmmm. We learned: no more road trips of any kind while we're here.

We ate sandwiches when we got back to the condo. Mark and I thought it'd be a good idea to then take the kids to a beach in central Kihei where the waves are fairly gentle. We thought they'd like to boogie board there. They did - for about ten minutes. Then the complaints started. The waves weren't big enough. Levi and Annie bickered. Though the beach stretched for three hundred yards, they clumped together. I finally suggested that Levi stay on one side of Esther and Annie on the other. Then the bickering started about Annie not staying on her side. I momentarily considered slitting my wrists. We left the beach.

The rest of the day went in a better direction. Mark took Aaron and Esther to Big Beach and I stayed in the condo with Levi and Annie. It was quiet and relaxing (because they were in separate rooms). When the others got back, we had a nice dinner provided by Mother Kirkland (Costco). Then, mercifully, it was time to go to bed.

I realized yesterday that the kids are growing up. They have different interests. I had looked forward to one-on-one time with the kids on the beach during this trip. I had, for example, fantasized about sitting with Levi on the beach, building sand castles and talking. I've realized, however, that Levi would much rather spend time in the waves. The time for building sand castles has passed. 

A parent's fantasies about spending time with their children, I realized yesterday, are often just that - fantasies that have more to do with the parent than the child. I hadn't fantasized about sitting with Levi on the couch in the condo on a sunny afternoon watching The Hobbit. However, that's exactly what we did yesterday afternoon, and it was nice.

What I'm Reading Right Now

I'm spending a lot of time reading on the beach these days. Thanks to Kindle, I can read several books at a time. Here's what I'm reading right now:


The Spark: A Mother's Story of Nurturing Genius

My daughter, Hannah, recommended this book to me on Thursday. I'm now almost halfway through it. It is the remarkable story of a mother's determination to heed what she intuitively felt needed to be done to help her autistic toddler achieve his potential. What I've read so far is not only an amazing story, but a story that provides wisdom, insight and courage to parents, whether or not their children are autistic. Favorite quotes so far:

"I learned that *everyone* has an intrinsic talent, a contribution to make, even if it comes in an unexpected form. And I began to believe that each person's potential to achieve great things depends on tapping into that talent as a child."

"I had believed for years that any child will out perform your expectations [in various skills, academics, etc.] if you can find a way to feed his or her passion."

The book caused me to ponder how I helped raise my older children and given me much food for thought on helping my younger children - ages 8-15 - find their intrinsic talent, that which they are most naturally passionate about, and pursue that passion. I will finish the book before we head home next week.

Homosexuality and Civilization

I've been reading this book, by Louis Compton, for several weeks and am now 39% of the way through it. Though the author is an academic, I have found it to be very readable and quite fascinating. It begins at the beginning of recorded history and works its way up through the centuries, through Judea, Bronze Age Mediterranean civilizations, Ancient Greece and Rome, the Dark Ages and into the Renaissance, where I now am, reading about homosexuality in Florence during the 1400's.

Along the way, I have learned how the writings of the early Israelites impacted early Christian fathers, then the jurisprudence of Rome, then Medieval Europe. How forgeries, misunderstandings, mistranslations, superstitious fear and brutality came to effect western Civilization's views on homosexuality for 2000 years. It makes for a very insightful, fascinating and sobering story. Did you know, for example, that Julius Caesar was the butt of many jokes as a result of a same-sex affair he had early in his career? Or that the practice generically known as "pederasty" in the Greek world existed for 1000 years until the burgeoning power of the Christian church finally succeeded in crushing it?

The David Suzuki Reader 

I knew of David Suzuki from my years in Vancouver, B.C., primarily from the CBC show, "The Nature of Things," which he hosted. I was reminded of this when we recently went to visit Mark's brother and sister-in-law, Tim and Marie, in Colorado. One night, we were sitting around talking about books, and Tim suggested the Mark read Suzuki's book, Tree: A Life Story, which is a "biography" of a single Douglas fir. Mark downloaded that book, but it is still a few books down in his queue.

I am not very far into the Reader, but I like that it is a collection of  relatively short essays about the environment, about sustainability, about climate change and about Suzuki's life story. Reading the essays has reminded me of when I lived in Vancouver and was attending law school at the University of British Columbia. Those were the days Gro Harlem Bruntland, the prime minister of Norway and chair of the United Nations' World Commission on Environment and Development, was advocating sustainable development. The Commission issued its report in 1987 - the year I commenced law school - entitled "Our Common Future," which I recall reading. Those were the days of "Think Globally. Act Locally." It was the time in my life when I was most engaged in what was going on in the environment.

Four Seasons in Rome

I read Anthony Doerr's book, All the Light We Cannot See, while we were in Europe. Although there was much about that book I liked, it was, in my view, dark and unredemptive. I decided to pick up Four Seasons in Rome because I had just been in Rome and hope to go back some day. It is a memoir of a year he and his wife and newborn twin sons spent in Rome in 2004-2005. This book is on my "slow read" booklist. I typically read a few pages at a time, then move on to something else. While I am not captivated by it, I am only halfway through. Perhaps it will get better.

Greece: A Short History of  Long Story

I came aware from our Greek cruise with a desire to learn more about the history of Greece - buy gently. I long, long ago realized that I am what I could call a "cyclic learner." I learn a little bit about something, then a bit more, then a bit more - in cycles. Perhaps many if not most people learn that way. I don't know. But when I searched about for a short, approachable yet serious history of Greece, I landed here.

I'm about 20% of the way through this book by Carol Thomas and have already learned quite a bit, putting pieces of information together that I learned while in Greece. This is another one of those books, however, that is not a page turner and which I have to absorb slowly.

The HeartMath Solution

This is another book that was recommended to us by Mark's brother and sister-in-law, Tim and Marie. I'm sure I'll blog more about this in the future. For now, let me say that I am finding it fascinating and enlightening. I'm only 13% into the book, but I think it's fair to say that the basic premise of the book is that science is proving that the heart has an intelligence, a brain, of its own apart from the mind's brain. And all sorts of things flow from that.

The Novels of Alexander the Great, by Mary Renault

Mary Renault was both a product of her times and in advance of her times. A lesbian, she wrote ground-breaking novels that had gay themes, primarily from the Classical period of ancient Greece. She was English, but spent the last few decades of her life in South Africa with her partner. When reading the first novel of her's that I've read, i.e, The Last of the Wine, I realized that I needed to learn a lot more about ancient Classical Greece in order to appreciate what I was reading. Renault was dealing with pederastic themes within the context of historical Greece during the Peloponnesian war. Thus, that first book was somewhat challenging. I kept waiting for the climax of the love between Alexis and Lysis ... but I came to realize two things: Renault was writing in the 50s' and 60's, and she was writing about a form of love that is foreign to 20th and 21st-century readers - even gay readers.

Now, I'm reading her trilogy about Alexander the Great. I still wish I knew more about Greek history; thus my reading of Greece: A Short History of a Long Story. But the story is fascinating. Alexander. His mother, Olympias. His father, Philip. Of course, Alexander was gay, or at least bisexual. Thus, I know the story is to be developed. Where I'm at in my reading, he's about eight.

Ozzie, Harriet, Mormonism and Me

"Her idea of the 'ideal life' was definitely an Ozzie and Harriet dream."

So wrote a friend who knew my mother. She had written to me after reading this post I published the other day about my mother. The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet was a TV show that ran throughout the 50's and half-way through the 60's. It portrayed the "All-American nuclear family," and is often used to describe the wholesome image of the post-war ideal that many parents, including my mother, strove to achieve.

(The above picture was probably taken on Mothers Day around 1964. L-R are my sister Karen, my brother Danny, me and my brother Mike. Wasn't I cute?)

As I described in the post about Mom that I wrote the other day, she had a difficult and troubled childhood. "Her childhood," wrote my friend, "was not something she really wanted to remember ... Gloom and doom was basically how she described her early years." As I read and re-read my friend's e-mail, I gradually came to see how there had been some similarities between my mother's approach to parenthood and my own, especially during the first ten years or so of my marriage.

First, there is the matter of control. Mom had a chaotic childhood and therefore sought security through control. My friend referred to this, i.e., the structure Mom wanted to have in her life - meal times, nap times, bedtimes, rules about this, rules about that, etc. Similarly, I admit to being controlling as a parent - not in the way my mother was, but controlling through the structure of Mormon family life. I, too, had had an abusive childhood. Mormonism offered to me a ready-made structure for my role as a father; all I had to do was follow the plan, obey the rules and apply the teachings.

Second, I was struck by my friend's "Ozzie and Harriet" reference. Mom wanted to achieve that ideal, but she didn't have the tools and she denigrated herself in the process, constantly striving for  unattainable perfection, hurting both herself and her children. After all, we kids were expected to play our part in the attainment of perfection.

Similarly, my idea of the "ideal life" was the ideal presented by the Mormon Church of loving parents and obedient and well-adjusted children. I reacted to my childhood upon joining the Church in the same way my mother did upon marrying, i.e., by doing everything I could to escape my past (and my homosexuality).

I imagine that Mom jumped at the chance to marry my Dad. His family represented everything Mom wanted but had never had- stability, togetherness, a degree of love she had not experienced, a large family which she could become a part of and escape her lower-class, somewhat gritty background.

My father and his family in front of their farmhouse near Salem, Illinois. Dad is kneeling, looking away from the camera.

I believe that my mother was probably ashamed of her background and felt very insecure as she integrated herself into small-town life with lots of sisters-in-law. She worked very hard to be the all-American homemaker (not so much a mother, but a homemaker), through her baking, her bridge club, and her housekeeping. I remember her saying once that we children "could have eaten off her kitchen floor."

A birthday party at Grandma Broom's house in 1954 or 1955. Various Broom uncles, aunts and cousins are pictured. Mom is holding my brother Danny. My sister, upon seeing this picture, commented that Mom was the only adult not wearing a hat. I hadn't notice that until she mentioned it.

Similarly, when I joined the LDS Church, I admit to feeling somewhat ashamed of my family background in light of the Mormon ideal that presented itself to me. Ideal Mormon families did not - or so I thought at the time - have abuse, divorce and dysfunction in their background. (I later came to realized how ridiculous that was.) Like me, I suppose that Mom thought that if she could just be perfect and raise a perfect family, she would be able to purge the ghosts of her past.

Getting back to my friend's email, I could and did relate to her statement that Mom thought that if she did everything the opposite of the way she was raised (i.e., with respect to parenting), it would probably be the "right way." Mom had no real parenting role models. Her father was not a part of her life due to the divorce of my grandparents, which was frankly a blessing. Her mother, meanwhile, was too busy trying to survive. She certainly was not the loving, doting mother ideal that my other grandmother exemplified. Though they shared the same name (Nellie), my grandmothers had had completely different life experiences and were two very different women.

As was the case with my mother, my parenting role models were not ideal. So Mom and I both tried to be a "good parent" through adherence to others' ideals. In Mom's case, it was the whole Ozzie and Harriet thing; in my case, it was the Mormon ideal. Neither one of us had a good sense of ourselves that would have allowed us to be parents from the inside out, rather than from the outside in.

Fortunately, the wheel had moved forward enough in my case that I could be in a better place when I became a parent. Nevertheless, I made mistakes - plenty of them. I was, however, finally able to get to a place where I cast off others' expectations of me as a parent and and adherence to others' ideals of parenthood. That was when I began the journey of being a parent from the inside out, rather than from the outside in.

Mom, later in her life

Unfortunately, Mom never had that opportunity. As my friend pointed out, she lived in a different time. "She was never taught that it was all right to show her true feelings ... I always felt that if she had received *good* therapy, things might have been different. But in those days, the doctors just gave you pills and you went on your merry way. Talking about your feelings, especially to your family, was just not done."

I am grateful that things have been different for my generation - and for me.

Person vs. Product; Ritual vs. Relationship

He was so cute. I was pulling out of my parking spot at the grocery store the other day, and I saw a young father carrying his little boy toward their car.*

“Bye,” I heard in a young clear voice. I turned and saw the little boy waving at me, smiling from ear to ear. “Bye,” he exuberantly called. “Bye!” I smiled and waved back. So cute. My own children have done the same thing – waved at total strangers, pure joy on their face, not realizing that their parents would never dream of doing such a thing.

As I turned and saw the man and his son in my rear view mirror, other thoughts came unbidden into my mind. I thought about this beautiful little boy and the hopes and aspirations of his father for him and I wondered – what if this little boy turns out to be gay? How would his father feel about that?  Would the beautiful exuberance I had just witnessed be someday crushed? Would this boy be rejected by his parents?

These thoughts quickly brought others to mind. Assuming this young father to be LDS, I wondered how this little boy would be raised. I wondered if the boy would be raised to go to Primary, to learn the words to “I Hope They Call Me On a Mission,” and “Army of Helaman”; to be a Cub Scout; to be a worthy deacon; to aspire to someday serve a mission; to be taught to believe that being a faithful Church member who “keeps the commandments” and “follows the prophet” represents the summum bonum of life, i.e., the highest good, the singular and most ultimate end which human beings ought to pursue.

I thought how this boy’s parents might sincerely believe that their job in life is to mold and shape this boy, to groom and prepare him for his mission in life, to – as it were – produce a young man who would fulfill all of their dreams as faithful parents in Zion. I wondered if they might teach him – as I once did with my own children – to pray that Heavenly Father would bless him with an opportunity to serve a mission, to get married in the temple to a noble and true companion and to then raise up his own children in light and truth.

My thoughts then came back to my original question: What if this boy is gay? For that matter, what if he’s not? How would this boy’s imagined life be different if, rather than looking at him as a “product” to be “produced,” he was looked upon by his parents as a unique person who had been brought into their lives to be loved and nurtured? To be discovered rather than molded? Whose individuality, mind, heart and spirit would be allowed to blossom and grow? Who would be valued as a person, rather than a product? Who would be loved for who he is, rather than for what he is?

The summum bonum of a Mormon (or any other) parent: Is it to love unconditionally – as God does – or to teach a child from an early age that acceptance and love is conditional upon obedience and conformity? To put it another way, is it to view their child as a person, or as a product?

On a related point, I also pondered, as I had on many occasions, the rituals in the Mormon Church that purport to "seal" children to their parents. As I contemplated resigning my membership in the LDS Church in August 2011, I wondered what effect my resignation would have on these ordinances. I also felt the bonds of the faith I had always had in the temple, and I felt anxious about "breaking" those bonds.

But then, almost immediately, I realized that I was still giving credence to a belief system in which I had lost faith. How deep the roots had sunk in a system that had taught me that my relationships with my children were dependent on rituals, rather than on strong, true and authentic emotions and experiences!

I pondered how I had bought into this system, which encouraged me to subject my relationship with my children to its demands, that taught me to constantly judge my children and myself, that “ritualized” my relationships with them.

How different things would be, I mused, if my had religion emphasized that what “sealed” me to my children were not rituals in a building, but rather feelings of love and acceptance, of validation and caring, of tenderness and devotion.

I did resign my membership in November 2011. From that point, and ever since, I have vowed to seek to love my children all the more purely, without regard to the goals of any organization, not as means to an eternal end, but for the glorious persons whom they are and for the sheer humanity of doing so.  

* This post is based on two posts that were originally published on my Invictus Pilgrim blog (now closed) in August 2011.

Summun Bonum: Person vs. Product

This is another post from my first blog (which is now closed). I was reminded of it recently during a conversation with a family member.

************

He was so cute. I was pulling out of my parking spot at the grocery store the other day, and I saw a young father carrying his little boy toward their car.

“Bye,” I heard in a young clear voice. I turned and saw the little boy waving at me, smiling from ear to ear. “Bye,” he exuberantly called to me.  “Bye!” I smiled and waved back. So cute. My own children have done the same thing – waved at total strangers, pure joy on their face, not realizing that their parents would never dream of doing such a thing.

As I turned and saw the man and his son in my rear view mirror, other thoughts came unbidden into my mind. I thought about this beautiful little boy and the hopes and aspirations of his father for him and I wondered – what if this little boy turns out to be gay? How would his father feel about that? Would the beautiful exuberance I had just witnessed be someday crushed? Would this boy be rejected by his parents?

These thoughts quickly brought others to mind. Assuming this young father to be LDS, I wondered how this little boy would be raised. I wondered if the boy would be raised to go to Primary, to learn the words to “I Hope They Call Me On a Mission,” and “Army of Helaman”; to be a Cub Scout; to be a worthy deacon; to aspire to someday serve a mission; to be taught to believe that being a faithful Church member who “keeps the commandments” and “follows the prophet” represents the summum bonum of life, i.e., the highest good, the singular and most ultimate end which human beings ought to pursue.

I thought how this boy’s parents might sincerely believe that their job in life is to mold and shape this boy, to groom and prepare him for his mission in life, to – as it were – produce a young man who would fulfill all of their dreams as faithful parents in Zion. I wondered if they might teach him – as I once did with my own children – to pray that Heavenly Father would bless him with an opportunity to serve a mission, to get married in the temple to a noble and true companion and to then raise up his own children in light and truth.

My thoughts then came back to my original question: What if this boy is gay? For that matter, what if he’s not? How would this boy’s imagined life be different if, rather than looking at him as a “product” to be “produced,” he was looked upon by his parents as a unique person who had been brought into their lives to be loved and nurtured? To be discovered rather than molded? Whose individuality, mind, heart and spirit would be allowed to blossom and grow? Who would be valued as a person, rather than a product? Who would be loved for who he is, rather than forwhat he is?

The summum bonum of a Mormon parent: Is it to love unconditionally – as God in Heaven does – or to teach a child from an early age that acceptance and love is conditional upon obedience and conformity? To put it another way, is it to view their child as a person, or as a product?

I wondered, as I turned another corner and the little boy and his father disappeared from sight.