Where Are the Parents?

Once school lets out for the day, the market, where I work, is swarmed by middle school children, who squander their unspent lunch money on soda, energy drinks, candy, and chips.  One of the adult customers commented on how she used to do the same thing when she was a youth, and voiced how silly it was for the schools’ to make serving only healthy meals a strict policy.  There’s no way to monitor the kids and force them to eat nutritious food. 

She also went on to tell me about the fifteen years that she spent working in day care.  She would take in children from parents, who wanted her to conduct toilet training and teach discipline because they couldn’t be bothered to do so, or even enforce her teachings on their own time at home.  There were still others, who wanted to leave their children with her for twelve hours a day, five days a week. 

With such extreme requests as these, the question arises as to why these individuals had children to begin with?  Was the conception accidental, or as accidental as it can be if a couple neglects to use birth control?  Had they already become jaded by the responsibilities of parenthood or did they not realize it would be a full-time job from the beginning?  Or did it seem like the right next step to start a family, instead of both individuals’ hearts being fully invested in this choice?

Too often today, kids seem to be going unchecked, controlling their parents and, as a result, are a nightmare for anyone else to deal with.  These parents don’t seem to want to do any work, as they keep turning to the schools to completely take care of their children’s well-being from discipline to good study habits and grades to healthy eating.  All of these habits and values must start at home and be instilled at an early age; otherwise the child seems to be nearly unreachable. Unless, hopefully, once they become adults, they will recognize the value of all that their parents wanted them to do, but never taught or enforced.

I understand that it’s a lot of work to be a parent.  One devotes inordinate amounts of time, energy, resources, and money into supporting and raising a child.  But, I believe, that all of the things that one invests mean nothing unless also totally investing oneself.  I feel that many parents of these troubled and misguided children are barely present in their lives, knowing little of what their kids are learning in school, who their friends are, what interests they are developing, and so on.  It’s easier for these parents to just throw money and new gadgets at them to make up for what they’re missing. 

Furthermore, this teaches the kids that they are entitled to have anything that they want.  One day at the market, a middle school boy retorted to my greeting of how he was doing, with something to the effect of not being well because he had to pay for all of the treats that he had loaded onto the counter.  I was so appalled that I couldn’t think of a witty comeback quickly enough.  All I managed was something about how everyone has to pay for the products that they want. 

And with a comment like that, I seriously wonder how many other goodies he had stashed away in his pockets.  It’s entirely possible, since the market has been fraught with thefts by these students.  The problem has reached such magnitude that the kids are no longer allowed to bring their backpacks into the store and only a few may enter at a time, so that they can be closely monitored by the cashier and the sentinel stationed by the door.

I worry about the future outlook for this new generation.

What Is Friendship?

When I think of friends, I think of my two close friends back in high school.  We were integral parts of each others' lives.  We saw each other every day, talked all the time, spent loads of time together, shared our secrets, struggles, and all of the stupid stuff.  I suppose that's the ideal that I'm trying to attain again, since I lost those friends a long time ago, due to a fight between them and me devoting nearly my entire focus to my serious boyfriend.

Realistically, I know that I will likely never again have friendships like that because life gets in the way more and more as we age.  Life was simpler in high school with only our relatively insignificant teenage problems to deal with.  This is one reason why I savor my internship time so much because it brings me back to the kinds of close friendships that I remember; since, when living and working together constantly, we have little choice, but to be totally involved in each others' lives.

Yet, ultimately, that experience comes to an end and I am brought back to reality, in which I continue to struggle to understand what friendship is.  I know that friends aren't constantly in touch with each other, but will be there when you need them most, different ones in varying situations.  I suppose keeping these instances in mind will help me to determine who really wants to continue to be my friend.  However, I still find it difficult to determine who my friends are and what everyone's levels of comfort are.  I don't care for the idea of sharing really simple things, like a detailed account of my entire day.  I probably wouldn't even want to hear about that, especially nowadays.  I enjoy philosophical discussions, but it's easier for me to write them out because I'm able to take time to think things through and organize them into something that makes sense to me, rather than resembling the jumbled in my head.  I'm aware that not everyone feels this way though, so my emails end up being monologues.

I know that people are only able to contribute what they can, and I understand and accept that.  What frustrates me is the uncertainty, when I don't know what their situations are.  I have some friends, who I rarely hear from, being busy, but I know from past personal discussions and my history with them that they truly do care.  Then, there are other people who will send me a couple of e-mails, when we're only just reconnecting or getting to know each other better for the first time; and then, I'll hear nothing from them for months, not knowing why because I don't know what's going on in their lives.  I usually end up taking it personally, assuming that they don't care or I don't fit into their schedules anymore, especially if it's been several months.  There's no way to know for sure what the deal is, unless they tell me.  Novel concept.

I try to not have such high expectations for people because it's not fair to them; and they shouldn't have to meet my standards, particularly if I don't even meet them all the time.  I'm still working on this.  And I do trust easily, unless there's really something that unsettles me about someone.  I don't like judging people outright.  Generally, it takes me a bit to warm up to new people and I do act a bit differently with different people, based on how we connect, what we connect on, how comfortable I feel with them, how our personalities fit; any number of things.  But the initial trust and openness is still there.  I don't know if it's good or bad, but it's gotten me this far.

Transformation of Friendship

It’s been a long time since I finished a book in a single sitting, a matter of hours.  I believe the last time it happened was at least four years ago when I flew through Burmese Days months before the respective assignment was due for my history course.  The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants was filled with lessons of friendship, of love, of life, of learning about oneself.  It made me laugh and it made me cry.  I got anxious and I got excited.  I became angry and I became reflective.

The reflection is coming on stronger, now that I have finished reading and had a bit of time to digest it all.  What is most painfully noticeable is that I miss my friends.  I always find myself coming back to this, no matter how old I get.  My mind drifts back to the close knit friends, particularly from high school, during a time when we were trying to understand ourselves, make sense of life, and dabbling in love.  We were each others’ worlds, offering comfort, support, courage, fun, unity.  Perhaps, this is just a romanticized notion of how friendship should be, an ideal that I desperately keep grasping for, even though it continues to fade away into a bleak abyss.

In adulthood, friendships like that don’t exist anymore, at least not long-lasting.  Now, it is all about time, place, convenience.  We seem to enter each others’ lives for a short time for some unknown purpose, which will change us, change our lives.  And then, in a flash, just when it seems true, just when it feels real, it’s gone, and I am left with the reality that I really only have me.  It becomes more challenging as life presses on and our worlds expand to maintain friendships, even those that meant the most to us because we can’t be everywhere at once.  There are so many limiting factors and we must take care of ourselves first, so that we may be capable of showing compassion for others.  Yet, too often, I think we take over our own lives.  It becomes difficult to see outside of our immediate surrounding, especially since there is always so much going on. 

           

I am not looking to find fault in anyone.  I am not pointing fingers.  I am just as guilty in this as anyone else, having gradually abandoned the friends, who I now long for or at least the memory of our friendship, in the face of a blossoming romance.  I was responsible for isolating myself, finding myself alone once love had faded.  Now, when I find myself picking out the flaws of others, I try to catch myself and reverse that scrutiny back upon myself, for I know that I am guilty of the same negative behaviors that are so obvious to me.  As I identify these, I try to improve upon them as I am able and willing, yet some may remain with nothing more than a longing, a hope, or a memory.