Time Travelling

This article first appeared in the Island Word in summer, 2009. 

Monika has returned from Germany, wondering how to answer the inevitable, “How was your vacation?” question. At least when Serena goes to visit her family, no one mistakes it for a vacation. After all, who would go to South Dakota in August to sight see? Serena dreams of road trips to Disneyland; Monika dreams of kayaking adventures on the West Coast. But both of us are spending our holiday times these years “going back” to where we came from: looking after our aging parents, reconnecting with siblings, meeting new nieces and nephews, running into high school friends.

In our early 20’s, both of us left our “homelands”, setting out to re-invent ourselves apart from the expectations, limits, and roles of our childhood families. Taking the geographical cure, we called it. With enough distance, we believed that we could become something that our families could not imagine for us. Like the three little pigs in the childhood story, and like countless twenty-somethings before us, we set out to find our own way and fortunes.

By our 30’s, we had each succeeded, more or less, in inventing our adult selves. We had careers, and each of us had grown around us families of choice that we were proud of, in a land where no one knew our childhood nicknames. We were too broke to go back to visit much; getting started in adulthood was an all-consuming business. Graduate school, daycare fees, student loans, home down-payments and mortgages made short work of the money that would have bought airplane tickets. We joked about buying stock in telephone companies. We noticed how little our parents seemed to age. From such a distance, they seemed to us to be the same folks we’d left behind; middle-aged and ‘bifocal’ed people who would someday retire but always provide a home for our high school yearbooks, adolescent poetry, photographs, childhood drawings, unfinished knitting projects, and that big box of Christmas decorations with all of the funny and all of the tragic stories attached to them.

We can no longer avoid it: we are now the ones approaching 50. Serena’s daughter is seeking the geographical cure, and our parents—those that are left—are increasingly fragile and temporary looking. It is our siblings that we turn to now out of necessity, doing our best to co-operate around care for our parents. We see that we are the reluctant but inevitable heirs to the family bonds that our parents started. We know one another’s childhood nicknames, as well as assorted other bits of embarrassing paraphernalia. We remember who was the smart one, the pretty one, the popular one, the odd one, the favorite of this teacher or that grandmother. We have a shared past, but little shared knowledge about who each other have become over the last three decades.

When Monika flies to Germany, she crosses 9 time zones, one for each 3-year period that she has been away. Time zones amplify the sense of time warp. Serena’s trips to Dakota are more North-South in orientation, but hardly less an adjustment along the time-warp factor. It is disorienting to walk the landscape of one’s adolescence from within a middle-aged body. Looking ahead, time seems to stretch in a long, forward line. But looking back, it isn’t linear at all, but spirals outward slowly outward, like a planet that is gradually leaving orbit, but which, meanwhile, keeps cycling back to the same seasons, just a little further out each time. You can feel that the past is just within reach; you can smell it in the air and hear it in people’s accents and tones of voice.

So here we are, the prodigal children, returned, with a grown-up job to do. Where once we sought to re-invent ourselves, we now try to re-connect to our original families; to establish sibling relationships among adults and to make the kinds of decisions with our parents that they might have made for us as children: when to see the doctor, where to live, how to make sure that the finances will last long enough, and whether or not they should be driving (do anyone’s parents really let the adult children make that decision for them? Is resistance to giving up the car keys universal?) And these people whom we scrapped with and loved in the raw ways of childhood are to become the adult allies or perhaps, to some degree, opponents in the transfer of power and of material goods between the generations. What a potential for more family sagas, fraught with hope and with uncertainty: Returning “home”. Us, the middle-aged generation now, after decades away.

As with any potentially perilious journey, this one requires careful planning and preparation. Since this is a journey over both physical and emotional territory, it is good to have more than one kind of travel advisor! As counselors, we have a few tips to help prepare for traveling into the territory of families that have been separated by decades.

1. If you are going to face unfinished business in person (and this is often optional), you absolutely must practice the conversations ahead of time. Practice them with your counselor, your spouse, your best friend, your dog, or your journal. Practice your family member responding with the worst possible thing, the best possible thing, and something in-between. Write letters and tear them up. Write replies to your letters, and tear them up. Practice!

2. Do not break earth-shattering news at other people’s weddings or funerals. Fiftieth Wedding Anniversaries and ninetieth birthdays, perhaps even regular family celebrations also, are bad times to announce that you are a) getting a divorce, b) marrying against your parents’ advice, or c) gay. Each occasion deserves its own day, it’s own memory. Let your big news have a special time of its own.

3. Plan for respite time. Consider booking a sightseeing trip (even South Dakota has historical museums and parks), renting a car so that you have your own “wheels”, or staying somewhere other than your sister’s hide-a-bed in the living room. Yes, it can be expensive. And some families take it as a personal affront that you would book a hotel room. But it may be a small investment for saving a) your sanity, and b) a connection that can’t withstand too much togetherness. And always pack good walking shoes!

4. Stay in touch with your adult self. Travelling with your spouse or someone else that you love, and that knows you well as an adult, can be wise. Telephone cards are inexpensive. Skype, Facetime and other web-based communication programs can be even cheaper.  Photographs can still travel in your wallet. Even writing in your journal or sending letters home can be a lifeline.

5. Touch the ground often. Put your hands on dirt, walk in a forest or by water, look at the stars, watch the moon. The same earth and sky support us all; the same air and water connect us, no matter how far on earth we travel. Family ties are strong, and the storms of family conflict can be powerful indeed. But earth ties are even stronger, and weather humbles even the most dramatic of families.

No-one ever said that families were easy. Occasionally a family is so dangerous to the soul that cut-off is required. But a family cut-off is more like an amputation than an appendectomy; it’s a permanent wound with phantom pains. Fortunately, most families run the gamut from slightly loopy to moderately dysfunctional. In other words, worth hanging in for.

In a world that demands more and more the appearance of success, families are the last refuge of imperfection—ours, and everyone else’s. There is a kind of freedom in that, even though it comes at the cost of tremendous drains upon our patience. If we are up to it, most of us can go back with some grace. Provided we go well prepared for the journey.

Fathering:  a 21st Century Job Description

this article first appeared in the Island Word in May, 2009. 

Now that we have a boy in the house, people are concerned that our children have access to “male role models”. But we wonder sometimes, what does it mean to be a good man these days? More specifically, what makes a good father? What can our boy look up to as he thinks about the kind of father he will be? So much has changed about fatherhood that not even television is giving us models of the good father anymore. Fred McMurray, Jimmy Stewart, and even Bill Cosby seem dated and quaint now. Homer Simpson, The Family Guy, and King of the Hill are not only cartoons, but also pathetic caricatures of fatherhood. Well meaning but not-too-bright is the best that can be said for today’s TV fathers.

Compounding this dearth of fatherly role models is the commonness of distant and absentee fathers. Listening to a group of cub scouts discussing absentee fathers recently, Serena observed that they began their stories with  “My father left when I was ____ years old,” as though time stopped and began again for every child with that dramatic life event. Serena’s own daughter, at the age of nine, referred to her father moving away as “the first really bad thing in my life.” These children put the lie to pat assurances that “your parents don’t love each other anymore, but they both love you and will always be here.” When a father or mother leaves, the child experiences himself or herself as having been left behind.

With Father’s Day rolling around, we are once again faced with the perennial problem of celebrating fatherhood in a society where so many children do not have visible fathers to celebrate. How do we affirm and encourage the positive role that fathers play in the lives of their children, without implying that traditionally-configured families are better than those without a man? How do we encourage children to appreciate fathers, when they have them, without rubbing salt in the wounds of those who don’t? We have said before that we wish schools would bow out of the Father’s Day and Mother’s Day hype, leaving families to decide for themselves who, and how to celebrate. But this skirts an important need on the part of boys (and girls), to know what good fathering looks like and to appreciate when it comes their way. Father’s day might be better celebrated if it were focused less on “father” as a specific, biologically-related person, and more on those who “father” in the active sense, providing consistent support to children and their mothers and giving boys (and girls) a model of positive masculinity.

Dividing parenting up according to gender—mothers and fathers—is traditional but not particularly helpful unless one is in the greeting card business. But mothers and fathers have come to be associated with two distinct sets of parental strengths and duties. The set which we call “mothering” includes feeding, nurturing, comforting, and encouraging children in the most intimate spheres of family life. The mothering parent makes chicken soup and wipes our brow when we are sick, makes our house into a comfortable home, goes to school conferences, and believes in us when no one else does. “Fathering” consists of protecting and providing for the family, playing rough-and-tumble games, teaching skills that require power tools, cars or barbeques, and providing an admirable model for how to get along in the wide world. In addition, each parent in a well-functioning family actively supports the other, so that children can admire each and can observe both parents treated well and with respect.

Within cultures, there have always been men who mother and women who father. Sometimes this is made necessary by circumstance, when one parent dies or goes away. Sometimes it is a matter of personality suiting one to one side or another of the parenting dichotomy. Nevertheless, most of us in the shared dominant culture of early 21st century Canada do have a clear idea of what mothering and fathering traditionally consist of. The trick is to embrace change and variety, while honoring and providing for every task that is necessary and desirable in the raising of a child.

In a culture that is still patriarchal in many ways (that is, partial to fathers), the lack of a visible male father is indeed likely to be felt as a deep wound to a child. We can’t make up for this entirely by providing the substance of “fathering” through alternative people; the child will still ask who their “real father” is. But being able to see and to say “thank you” for the fathering that one does receive is important to every child, including those whose male biological parent is absent, unknown, or irresponsible. So what if Father’s Day shifted slightly to be Fathering Day, and to focus on those who do father work for children and mothers, regardless of gender or biological ties?

Thinking about this need to encourage, recognize and honor fathering work, we had to first step back and define what fathering entails. We did some reading, but most sources spoke only about how fathers play with children; few mention the ways in which fathers support the family behind the scenes. We were disappointed with this; the financial support of a family and the emotional support toward the children’s other parent are too important to go without recognition. And since this work is usually only indirectly witnessed by children, who benefit from a well-provisioned and safe environment, and a supported and confident mother, it’s adults who need to point it out to them, and coach them to say, “thank you”. Our list, then, of what father-work entails highlights not just the play and the fort building, but the providing and mother-supporting as well.

Fathering work can be done by anyone, regardless of gender, age, biological relatedness or formal title. So, who should get a Father’s Day card this year? The answers might surprise us. If our readers are not sure, perhaps this list will help.

Those who “father”

1. Protect the family. This is probably the oldest and most universal role of fathers. Try to remember feeling really, really safe. Who was keeping watch, ready to defend you if necessary while you slept? Who made sure your house was strong and safe from storms or bears? Who does this for your children? Send that person (or those people) a card for Father’s Day.

2. Provide for the family. This important function gets often overlooked these days, as at-home parents are inclined to see going “out to work” as a luxury. But welfare is no fun, and staying employed involves self-discipline and sacrifice. Consider the coal miners who not so long ago worked underground in Cumberland, stooped over in tunnels that could fill with toxic gas or explode into flame. Why do people do such dangerous and unpleasant things? Because someone whom they love depends upon it. Who keeps the wolf from the door of your children’s house? Who provides the money to buy safety, food, and dignity, and something special now and then for them? Send that person a card for Father’s Day.

3. Teach skills and values. Who do your children look up to? Who teaches them or helps them to build things? Who answers their endless “why?” or “how?” questions? Who says, “gee, that’s a good question—I don’t know”, then helps them to look up the answer? Send that person a card.

4. Have fun messing around with kids. Who plays with your children, laughs with them, tells them silly jokes? Whose puns do your kids think are brilliant until age ten, when they groan at them, until they move away and start to pun themselves? Send that person a card.

5. Stay around. Who shapes their career plans around the children? Who hangs in as a family person, doing their best even when fighting private demons? Who fights to overcome their own limitations because the kids need them to be strong? Send that person a really big card.

6. Encourage and support the children’s mother. Who tells her that she is smart, beautiful, and worthy of respect? Who shows the children what respect in the home looks like every day, modeling equality, fairness and empathy regardless of gender? Send that person a card.

Our list is by no means exhaustive or culturally universal, but we think it is a good starting point for approaching Father’s Day in a positive way regardless of family shape. Think of it as a starting point for conversation at home and in the neighborhood—what does it mean in these changing times to father a family?

When Grandparents Raise Grandchildren

This article first appeared in the Island Word in 2005.

Friends of ours were at Value Village a few months ago when they met an older gentleman checking out a child’s comforter blanket. “Grandchild visiting?” they asked, making friendly conversation. The older man looked down, as though he were ashamed of something. “No,” he said, “my daughter was here last week and left her son with us. It looks like he’ll be staying, and we don’t have anything we need anymore at all.”

As it turns out, the man spoke to the right people; our friend, a woman in her fifties, is also raising two grandchildren. Not only did she steer him toward the children’s items; she also gave him a pep-talk about the shared hardships and joys of raising grandchildren. Above all, she told him, “don’t ever be ashamed or apologize for raising a grandchild! Be proud that he has you to lean on.”

Over the last 30 years, the proportion of children in the custody of grandparents in Canada has doubled. According to a major study of custodial grandparents, these families face unique challenges. Over 30% live below the poverty line, and those who do not are still likely to find retirement plans postponed and scaled back. Many live in fear of losing the children to “the system”, or to parents who they believe are not ready to take on the full responsibility of child care. The grandchildren themselves often arrive with deep emotional scars and special educational needs, especially if they have been in state care or suffered the strains of a parent’s falling apart. Substance abuse, addiction, and high rates of poverty among young adults have contributed to the trend of more grandparents stepping up to the role of full time caregiver and guardian, with or without legal rights to guarantee their continued role in the children’s lives.

The issue of grandparents’ rights is complicated, and we won’t address it here. Certainly there are many cases where parents and grandparents end up in court, battling over custody or even access to children. This is always a tragedy, even when it seems unavoidable. Our point here is that grandparents who are willing, physically able, and emotionally mature enough to help are often the first line of defense for children when parental custody breaks down. And many of us have some prejudices to get over when it comes to supporting these “skipped generation” families of grandparents raising grandchildren.

In some cultures it is common for children to be raised by a flexible combination of parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. Fostering among relatives in First Nations communities serves many purposes. Close ties to grandparents foster a knowledgeable connection to the values and skills of the elders, and a strong sense of belonging in the larger order of things. In the African American tradition, grandmothers have commonly taken care of children while mothers worked long hours for a living since before the emancipation of slaves. Researchers studying child survival in the Sub-Sahara of Africa found that the presence of a grandmother greatly increases a child’s chances, whether the threats come from famine, diseases (such as the current epidemic of HIV), or warfare. In fact, it may be under conditions of hardship that the role of grandparents is most clear and appreciated.

Part of what haunts custodial grandparents of Canada’s middle class is the sense that “it wasn’t supposed to be this way.” They feel that their families are failing the ideal, and that their “proper” role is on the margins, with parents in the lead. Service and government agencies can unintentionally add to this sense of stigma, asking questions about what went “wrong” in the upbringing of the child’s parents. What is missing when custodial grandparents are stigmatized is the broader picture. The job of a grandparent raising grandchildren, while difficult, is also normal and common across many times and places. The expectation that grandparents won’t be needed only works in very affluent, trouble-free times.

A second missing piece is the knowledge that even the best parents don’t always raise children who make it as parents themselves; there is much about how our children turn out that is out of our control. The rule that “good parents always produce good and capable children” is a cruel myth, particularly when applied to parents who don’t start out with adequate resources, skills, or back-up to do the job, or who parent in a war zone of violence, poverty, racism and stigma. Instead of turning on custodial grandparents with questions about what they did wrong, it is much more useful to start by acknowledging the strength of their commitment, and the good fortune of grandchildren to have such love in their lives.

The truth about custodial grandparents in Canada is that they are doing a heroic job. They are taking parenting courses where they are the only people over 40. They are spending their retirement years driving children to swimming lessons, therapy, tutoring and hockey, then taking post-retirement jobs to pay for these things. They are sitting at kitchen tables struggling over homework, then staying up late to figure it out a day ahead of the kids. They are providing children with stability and resources that foster parents, dedicated and skilled as they are, can rarely match. They do this without access to the financial and other resources that foster parents receive, and yet many are determined to keep the children out of the foster care system. And still, they are finding humor and rewards in this job. Most thrive by tapping into deep strengths and reserves that they otherwise would not have known were there.

The other truth about custodial grandparents is that they could use a hand. The children they are raising tend to be more vulnerable than average, and the resources they have to do the job tend to be tighter than average. They need to be acknowledged and supported in the work that they do, and sometimes they need to be reminded to be proud. They have a particular need for time—time to upgrade their own skills, to relax and recharge, to connect with other custodial grandparents, to keep their own marriages in good shape, and to look after their own health and spiritual well-being. Many of them have a need for more money. Some of them have a need to grieve lost dreams—dreams for their own retirement, and dreams for children who are struggling or lost.

There are many excellent resources for grandparents raising children. One internet source that we liked is www.cangrands.com. This site has many links, and information that ranges from health and safety to legal issues to just plain fun. Locally, families can find some support through Family Services and through the Ministry for Children and Family Development. Many families can get help to pay for private counselling through employee assistance or extended health benefits available through their place of work.

References:

www.cangrands.com

Fuller Thomson, Esme, (2005).   “Grandparents raising grandchildren in Canada:  A Profile of Skipped Generation Families”.  SEDAP (Social and Economic Dimensions of an Aging Population) Research paper # 132, SEDAP Research Program, McMaster University, Hamilton, Ont.