Good job, son. Mommy and daddy are so proud of you.
Actually, Monday was the second go-round for his yellow belt since the previous Monday Eric had inexplicably balked at the promotion test. Master Kim was exceedingly gentle and understanding, offering Eric ample opportunity to perform away from the scrutiny of the gathered class and attendant parents; however, Eric adamantly and tearfully refused.
His resistance that afternoon was just one of those moods that sometimes seizes kids. Despite Master Kim's and my supportive urging, he simply refused to break the wooden board, even after performing all the other requirements, and at the risk of foregoing his promotion altogether. I pondered for a long while about what might have set it off (fear of failure, aversion to performing, lack of sleep, not enough validation) but in the end it's not really important. The memory of my own lifetime of irrational refusals and self-destructive tantrums is still vivid enough that I can begin to focus on the larger issue: How and when should a boy's will be overcome?
I guess my feeling is that nothing is more common or more potentially scarring than for a child to have his will repeatedly thwarted and overcome. I've told myself as a parent that learning to yield, concede and compromise will build my boy's character and better prepare him for socialization--after all, you can't always have your way. Everybody knows that parents--and especially fathers--have to set clear boundaries for children. But on the other hand, I can't help but feel I'm turning my little unbounded adventurer/explorer into just another obedient puppy. Must things be this way?
When Eric and I run into a conflict of agendas I end up always trying to nudge, bribe or coerce him into seeing things my way. Everything from the daily challenges of waking, eating and sleeping to Eric's more inspired fits of resistance become battlegrounds of pitted will. I can't even say I'm pleased about my growing arsenal of negotiation and coercion tactics. It all feels like something corrupt. An adult's misdirection to lure the child into a more grownup place. I'm sick of all this. What have I gained by bending him to my will or distracting him away from his own? I reflect upon my own distinct aversion to things I'm not already good at and I wonder if my more ambitious nature was not cowed into submission by discipline and judgment. It's sort of the loser's eternal refrain, "What if I had been nurtured instead of instructed?"
I had my reservations about Tae Kwon Do for Eric in this same regard. I thought it would be needlessly rigid and authoritarian. Just let the kids run around for an hour or so would have been my first choice. He didn't get into the Jump Jam music and dancing class the first term so we settled on Tae Kwon Do. Thank god he got in this year.
Anyway, the first time the parents were invited to sit in on the TKD class sort of confirmed my misgivings, though I must admit I handled it poorly. Eric and a band of cohorts were "playing to the audience" and became disruptive, running from their exercises to play chase amongst the dormant gym equipment. I sent Eric a series of stern looks and nods but he was unmoved. Master Kim was patient but you could see he was being tested. Even when the boys got back in line, Eric couldn't help getting involved in tickling and wrestling with his friends. It was clear that he was the chief instigator. Exasperated, I called Eric over and gave him a stern warning to be a better listener or we'd be going home early. Eric laughed me off and returned to his unruly games. The mood of the other parents was not disapproving but I guess I was spurred to action by my own feelings of parental impotence. He must have crossed some imaginary line or broke some imaginary camel's back because before he could register what was happening, I was whisking him out of his class, bag in tow, for the long walk home.
Oh, how he cried and protested! I remember it was a windy day and I had to duck into the recessed alcove of an office building to get him out of his uniform. A guard came out and told us to move along because Eric's wailing was being a nuisance. I let the poor old guy have it, saving me from choking on my anger and frustration and shame. Bad daddy.
So, the promotion test tantrum didn't nearly phase me. Maybe, in a way, it was Eric's subtle protest at my earlier heavy-handed discipline. If so, it was a cold, calculating stab at his father who he might have sensed was invested in witnessing his son's achievements. I've done that: withheld joy as punishment to others, even at my own expense. But I don't think it was that, though. Eric's not so twisted.
What I think... what I see is that not performing became something very important for Eric that afternoon. Like a life preserver it was something real for him to hold onto in a storm of emotions. Should I deny him that solace? Though Master Kim tried up to the last moment of class and even after, I recognized that Eric would not be moved.
At one point, I could see Master Kim considering whether he should just give Eric the belt and coerce the board break from him next class, but I was insistent that he not do so. There should be consequences to one's actions. Isn't that what fathers are supposed to instill in their boys? Looking back, though, even that demonstration seems a little weak and petty to me. It smells a little too much like punishment or disapproval. Why was I not able to more fully embrace my son's real emotional trauma before turning the whole ordeal into a lesson? I don't want to have to teach too many of these lessons to my son before I would expect him to doubt my unconditional support for his achievements, or even worse, aspire to achievement solely for my approval. Luckily, the following week Eric handled every challenge admirably, even the ones his father was struggling with. The previous week's protest had long faded from memory and he was able to cheerfully enjoy the fruits of his effort.
What I wish for my son, like any father, is that he grow to become a man; but I see no threshold for when that should occur. For the rest of his life, he will need to be independent, resourceful and persistent and I see so clearly that he possesses these qualities even now, as a boy not four years old. Isn't my job to protect those qualities in him, while nurturing his resolve to discover other facets of his nature or even his multiple natures? Who am I to disapprove should Eric turn out to be unruly, aggressive and insolent? Let him explore these natures, too.
What I don't want is for Eric to end up too like his father, too cowed by the threat of censure or disapproval to carry through with his ideals; still experimenting with boundaries as a grownup that should have been made clear years ago; possibly acting out his own issues of structure and discipline in his relationship with his son. Do I blame my own parents for my failings? If I do, it's just another of my failures. A man should take responsibility for the life that lies in front of him, even if he can do nothing about the life behind him. And so, in that spirit, I give this special blessing upon the occasion of my son's yellow belt:
Congratulations on your promotion, Eric. I know how much you love Tae Kwon Do and it shows in your bright smile and boundless energy. I hope Mommy and Daddy's support will spur you to achieve many, many things. I hope you continue in your discipline until you no longer feel that it expresses you. And I hope that you continue in your resistance to Mommy and Daddy until you no longer feel that it expresses you either... love Daddy.
P.S. Bonus footage of Eric in his more natural environment: dancing! That's him in the blue tracksuit in the front row. His daddy was a breakdancer, you know...
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