When Sigmund Freud presented his life’s work to Western civilization, everything changed. A cultural savant, Freud’s psychoanalytic theories rewired our worldview of individuals, relationships and especially child-rearing.
When Sigmund Freud presented his life’s work to Western civilization, everything changed. A cultural savant, Freud’s psychoanalytic theories rewired our worldview of individuals, relationships and especially child-rearing.
It’s always been true that parents and family dynamics fundamentally shape the psyches of growing children, leaving etched more or less permanent fingerprints on those same lives into adulthood. But Freud said it out loud. He codified it in published theory. He made us aware of the consequential weight, the “wallop” of how quality parents (or not-quality parents) can form and deform the personalities of children.
And, Freud was right.
But, nearly 100 years later, I notice other, bothersome cultural patterns that have spun out of this dominant, psychoanalytic view of the human experience. Unwitting and unintended. Whatever Freud meant, I’m certain he did not mean: “Therefore, the moral responsibility for any and all character flaws, foibles, selfishness, anger management problems, anti-social idiosyncrasies, mood disorders, neuroses, personality disorders, criminal behavior, mean streaks, bad manners, addictions and/or psychopathologies you exhibit in adulthood should be summarily laid at the feet of your mother and father in some combination. Not to mention that you should spend the rest of your life castigating said Parental Units for all said and presumed sins. Because your life is their fault.” I make my living as an ardent advocate for the innocence and vulnerability of children. But, sheesh, talk about a pendulum swing!
Today, I meet mother after father, father after mother, who come limping into my office besieged by indignant, scornful, angry adult children. These children treat their parent(s) as persona non grata.
And, in a culture of psychoanalytical worldview, so many parents just buy it. Their sons and daughters lead unhappy, difficult, in some cases miserable, self-destructive or even criminal lives. Some of those sons and daughters are just, well, jerks. And it must be because “I was a bad parent.”
Here’s a page from my own personal Good Parent Primer:
I assume that good parents are all flawed parents. I further assume that good parents are ever-ready and even eager to be radically, humbly accountable for those flaws. They tell their children the truth about who they are, even the unlovely truths. Good parents can hear their child’s righteous, appropriate anger about injustices, cruelties, or in some (thankfully rare) cases, evil.
But here’s another page from that same primer:
Under no circumstances will I grant my children an audience for mere scorn. Mere contempt. Reviling. For that matter, at 55 I no longer grant anyone an audience for that. If you want to be close to me, I guarantee you will eventually have reason to be angry with me. And that’s when I will need you the most. So be angry. Submit your grievance. Punctuate it with volume and trembling voice.
But not with disrespect. Don’t abuse me, even if you’re certain that I have abused you. I won’t allow that. Not only because it’s not good for me, but especially because it’s not good for you. Providing sanctuary for an adolescent or adult who still solves problems like a 2-year-old is not in your best interest. If you have a grievance, let’s talk. But if you’re just mean, then, here’s a news flash: I don’t spend time with mean people.
Psychology Today recently published “When Good Parents Have Difficult Children: It’s not your fault,” by therapist Mark Sichel. He notices what should be palpably obvious, yet is often unnoticed. Not all shoddy, incompetent parents produce psychologically deformed children. Not all ordinarily good, competent parents produce psychologically healthy children.
My parents’ parental sins are solely my parents’ responsibility. As are their virtues. Whatever injuries I have sustained from their sins and whatever character I have enjoyed because of their virtues … well, what I do with that combination in myself is solely my responsibility. Morally and otherwise.
Steven Kalas is a behavioral health consultant and counselor at Las Vegas Psychiatry and the author of “Human Matters: Wise and Witty Counsel on Relationships, Parenting, Grief and Doing the Right Thing” (Stephens Press). Contact him at skalas@reviewjournal.com.