Shortly after completing my thesis, we followed the advice of family and friends that my husband, Steve, and I needed a holiday only for the two proposed by us - leaving behind our two children. My parents went to our house in New Jersey, and assured us that everything would be fine, we should "not think about what your home -. Just relax, relax and enjoy each others company"
During the five days away, we have the wet heat of Eleuthera - a tinyBahama-piece of the sky, with white, fine sand and little else. Steve and I read, slept, completed New York Times crossword puzzles, watching the family on the beach, and lose their young children terribly.
Every evening, after washing away the sand and combing our scalp burns, Steve and I enjoyed the day's catch at one of four or five tables in the landscape, beach restaurant. Other tanned tourists who had lunch with us, who arehad divided the beach earlier in the day. The small, octagonal restaurant was not much bigger than our living room, making it hard not to overhear conversations at nearby tables.
At a table not more than four feet from us was a father, mother and two teenagers. Every night his parents and his daughter dressed in summer colors appear on a catalog or by Talbot J. Crew increased. His son, who looked about 16 years old, was fully clothedIn black-and-neck he wore a leather belt with shiny silver spikes protruding (not unlike the dogs in cartoons wear). His only concession to color was seen in the tips of his yellow neon sculptures, has cut hair "Mohawk". In our opinion, this guy seemed to be composed of another family (perhaps even another planet?)! We were fascinated.
Steve and I were discussing this family and see us during our stay. The "Mohawk" (do not know their trueName) in many ways, looked like a typical family, laughing, playing with seemingly serene tones said, and stood together on the beach after dinner. They seemed to really enjoy each others company. When Steve and I were (relatively new) parents of children who were both under five years, we have suggestions on how it might react if one of us in comparison went downstairs one morning, dressed like this guy getup with the "goth" . "What were the parents doing to this child the feeling of necessity,? . Rebel "We asked each other, he seemed a" nice guy "- because she feels that the spectral peaks?
The night before, walking along the beach after dinner, we proposed a meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Mohawk. After some conversation where we need and how we chose each of Eleuthera, I talked about. "We could not see, your family this week." (The mother looked concerned and Steve seemed a bit 'worried.) "At the beach,Tennis courts and dinner, there really seems to be affected as the four of you to enjoy each other's company. "Steve is now looked at me as I read," All right. good place to stop Marth. "But I continued:" When we were teenagers, I hope we have time together, as four of you clear. "I do not enjoy Steve's face relaxed.
The mother of the child mohawked smiled. "We do not always agree, of course," he began, "Sometimes I can not stand bickeringamong our children! It has improved in recent years, "And then he made a comment that with me for a long time." The real trick of young parents to their children as they are to be respected. .. You have to keep everything in perspective "He paused," It 's just hair, "I felt my face flush - it was for me," Everything is about communication, "he continued." We just try to keep talking and listening, sometimes it's really important to choose your battles, and before you know itthey are your children will, for its decisions. "
We were sailing close to speechless tonight Eleurtheran. Steve and I had an initial judgments made about teenagers (and by association, his parents), based only on his spiky hair and a dog-collar man. What a wonderful lesson of paternity, the mother was now divided - a simple message of acceptance and unconditional love. Steve and I were (relatively naive) parents of two young children, restrictions of the parents seemedand guide almost every waking hour of every day! At this stage of our lives, it was difficult to imagine a time when our children to school, let alone teenagers controversial and complex decisions. How is life, time passes faster than we thought.
Fourteen years later, it was our son, Scott, almost fifteen years old and about to enter the ninth grade. It 'was on the eve of his first day of a new high school when he came into our bedroom and announced that'Ll dye his beautiful, blonde hair, deep blue ... and he asked me if I'd like to help. As he had done many times, our education spontaneous techniques were tested.
On the night of the debate we slept three deep blue hair then much, as we all thought. We talked about all the decisions of Scott. Neither Steve nor I ever claimed that Scott could not dye your hair blue. We asked him questions about his motives and his reactions. Scottexpressed that his goal to see if other students have yet to decide whether to accept that he is a "loser" was when his hair was blue. His condition was not clear that they were all "match, snob, the sons of the aristocracy Massachusetts." In most neutral tones that he was capable, it was thought that, as new teachers and classmates could exercise his option, and we discussed the possible consequences (both positive and negative) to arrive at a new school with a deep blueHair (he pointed out, the color of the school).
Despite the sore eyes and tired brains, the three of us sitting in a surprisingly calm voice talking, sitting on the edge of the bed of Scott must have been there for about three hours. We named our son to wonder if his hypothesis that his colleagues would reject it was right, and challenged us to examine our feelings about conformity. Scott was a philosopher, since he could talk about was, so that the debate has been intensedyeing theory and surprisingly sophisticated for a discussion on hair blue. When it seemed that nothing more to say (or no more energy to say it), Steve Scott and I assured that we accept what he has made the decision, and that would be willing to help him dye his hair so long when he decided to do this in the next half hour. We all need sleep. Take a deep breath, we went back to preparing for bed. Lie awake in bed waiting to happen on the half hour, I whisperedSteve: "It 's just hair."
The next morning, Scott's hair was still blond. We never asked why he chose to dye because it felt like, "I said" to ask themselves. Maybe they are just words without taking more. Maybe not stay awake. E 'was also possible that our conversation the night he had a role in his decision. Of course none of us knows what his life would be different (if any), Scott was left on the hair to turn blue that night. I think thefinal choice was less important than an honest, civil, and have since he had done that night. I felt good.
Prior to the meeting of the "Mohawk" in Eleuthera, I thought that a youthful appearance as his son to rebel against his parents had wanted to be. Like many others I also thought that children in our city park "Goth," a tortured anxiety not experienced enough attention at home or at school dressed like an outcast. My goal changes to this beach in Eleuthera andI think I became a different - parents - a more tolerant and accepting.
If we look to our children and act like other children of "fit" often want to reflect mainly because we are worried about how their clothes, music, or lead on us and our parenting skills. Steve and I brought home an unexpected lesson from the small island of Eleuthera: if the "Mohawk" Young parents believed their child the right to express themselves in a relatively benign (although noticeable)Fashion, was an expression of trust, respect and love that was not always easy. I would bet that the child itself (now-41-year-old) is no longer draws a Mohawk. I can imagine that being a loving, respectful young people of his father, grateful that his parents taught him to see one of the tips to know what is really important, as it grew.
A few years later, when Scott was a student boarding at a ski academy in Vermont, we arranged to meet with the grandparents "(My parents) house for a weekend fall. My parents could not be there until Saturday, but Steve and I arrived on Friday afternoon, eager to have time with our son, we had not seen in a few weeks.
We heard Scott VW pull in the driveway, and Steve rushed to the door to greet him. When I heard Steve laugh out loud, I went to the window and saw Scott, who from his car. Scott's hair was a deep, Shocking Blue! As he looked a bit 'embarrassed at first, Scottvisibly relaxed when he heard our laughter. It 'was quite a sight - a color in nature is absolutely not! Even if it had three years earlier seemed complicated, we were now enjoying the fact that Scott had taken plunge deep blue (and did so without the involvement of parents). With fourteen years Scott was a vulnerable, ordered fresh teen, Steve and I were more vulnerable, less experienced parents. Now, at age 18, Scott was an amazing self-contained, self-confidentyoung man who "just kidding," thought he had blue hair.
Steve grabbed Scott's bag, and I hung the jacket. Since we are anxious to hear the sofa in the living room, its life line at the academy slope, Scott is plopped in front of the fire and looked at us with a smile: "Hey, it's just hair"
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