ROB AND HIS DAUGHTERS: AN OLD FAMILY TRADITION

We’ve written about parenting, describing the highs and lows of raising 13 children between us. Presently, Rob relates a long standing tradition in his family. 

The Method to Our Madness

On a recent warm summer night in the Kansas City suburbs, I sat hunched around the kitchen table of a hotel suite with my three daughters, poring over a scratch-off map of the United

States revealing the states and cities we’d visited as a quartet with the scrape of a quarter across the gold coating. It was opening night of our annual Daughter’s Weekend, two uninterrupted days devoted to father-daughter bonding. Our first activity was plotting the places we’d gone to in the 23 years we’ve carried on this tradition (ten states, 12 cities it turned out). Figuring out where we’d traveled let each of us reflect on the meaning of our yearly meetings to each other and to our family life.    

In the mid-90s, I pondered the reality of having three daughters from two marriages who lived in different places. A significant age gap separated them.  One was in college and the other two had just passed toddlerhood. I’d read plenty about the benefit to girls of developing strong relationships with their fathers – fewer teen pregnancies, less involvement with drugs, fewer entanglements in abusive intimate relationships. I wanted those things for my girls, though I knew no magic bullet existed. I could do everything right and things still might go to hell in a handbasket. 

What did I do? To make a long story short, I borrowed a practice from my wife’s family and made some adjustments. Ida and her three younger sisters occasionally headed off on jaunts they called “Sisters Weekend.” Husbands, boyfriends, and children weren’t invited. The Stewart sisters said these excursions helped them forge stronger bonds with each other. Could my daughters and I do something similar and get the same benefit? 

Being the way I am, I made up some rules:

• We’d alternate between weekends at home (Houston) and taking trips.

• This would be an annual event everyone could buy into and count on.

• We’d share responsibilities. At home, each person would have meal preparation, clean-up duty, or a planning job, depending on maturity. On trips, while I paid for virtually everything in the early years, once the daughters grew up and became gainfully employed, we split meals, lodging, and entertainment, roughly according to ability to pay.

• Trips would feature educational activities, not just entertainment, meaning museums and cultural centers as well as ball games and shows.

•   No wives or brothers allowed.

•  No work! I couldn’t draft briefs and motions and the girls had to finish their school work pre-trip.

I didn’t know if (a) the girls would buy into my idea or (b) if it would help in creating bonds between each of them and me or between them as sisters. When we started in 1996 at home in Houston, I hoped it would become a longstanding tradition, but I had no more than that – hope. 

Our Greatest Hits

Over the years we generally maintained that 1-1 ratio of home events to trips, though we make more trips now. We’ve seen some of America’s most intriguing cities,

2017 New Orleans-Left to Right: Murriel, Rob, Shaun, Kathryn

including New Orleans, Kansas City, Chicago, Denver, and Nashville. We’ve been to a remote lake resort (Wisconsin), taken college tours (Arkansas and North Carolina), visited museums (the Field Museum in Chicago, World War II in New Orleans, Country Music Hall of Fame in Nashville, Negro League Baseball in Kansas City, Crystal Bridges in Bentonville, Arkansas), and been entertained by comedians, dancers, and singers all over. We’ve eaten great meals (Emeril’s Delmonico in New Orleans, Arthur Bryant’s Barbeque in Kansas City), and scrounged for late night snacks. 

Did it Work?  You Bet it Did!

My daughters, Shaun, Murriel, and Kathryn and I don’t have perfect relationships, either father-daughter or sister-sister. We have disagreements, arguments, and spats with each other and occasionally about each other. We all have bones we could pick with each other. 

But nobody got into serious trouble and all three graduated from reputable colleges (Miami, Arkansas, Clemson/Cal-Berkeley). All have been gainfully employed during their adult lives. None depend on me or society. We’ve all chipped in to help each other from time to time, but no one requires more than the normal love and support good family members give each other. I’d call each a cherished friend and a loving daughter. 

Daughter’s Weekend doesn’t get credit for all that, of course. It is one weekend a year. The day-to-day work of their mothers, brothers, teachers, spiritual communities, and their own character played bigger roles in creating the good people my daughters have become.

I’ll always believe, though, another thing played a part -- the time I spent with them on those weekends, when they had my undivided attention and when nothing distracted them from feeling my love for them or theirs for me and for each other.

At the end of that Kansas City visit, as we piled into the car for the trip to the airport, Murriel asked, “Where are we going next year?”

“Atlanta, maybe?” Kathryn offered, scanning the rest of us.

“Fine with me,” I said, putting luggage into the trunk.

“Me too,” Shaun said. “Long live Daughters Weekend!”  

 

2016 Chicago - Left to Right:Rob, Shaun, Murriel,  Kathryn

                     

Parenting 102: More Advice on Parenting or The Legacy We Can Leave Our Children

We wrote last time about leaving a “legacy” for our children and grandchildren, a capstone on our look at parenting.  Woodson detailed his desire to bequeath to his offspring a legacy of “character” and “financial freedom.”  Now, Rob and Henry weigh in.  Both view the issue differently from Woodson and from each other.  Still, we see commonality in our three approaches to this concept.  Judge for yourself the particulars.

Rob’s Thoughts  Woodson’s insistence on leaving a “legacy” for his children forced me to think about what I will leave mine.  I find his “character” and “financial freedom” objectives laudable goals.  I don’t use the same words, but I see similarities in what I want to leave my children and what he seeks to leave his.

I look at this issue along an intangibles-to-tangibles continuum. What intangible qualities and attributes did I try to instill and what real assets can I leave?  I’ve tried to give my children a lengthy list of intangibles, but much work remains on the tangible part.

I have five children from two marriages.  At the intangible end of the spectrum, my wives and I sought to provide our children experiences and education that promoted good judgment, developed analytical and  problem solving capacity, taught writing, speaking, and computational skills permitting high level professional performance, and inspired intellectual curiosity leading to freedom of thought. We also tried to inculcate moral, ethical, and spiritual values that enhance justice and equality in a free society.

My wives and I devoted substantial time and treasure to these objectives. We spent significantly on travel, sports experiences, books, cultural activities, and, of course, formal education.  Each child earned a degree from a reputable university.  With considerable evidence now in, it appears we succeeded.  All five demonstrate, at some level of competence, the listed skills and generally adhere to the values we promoted.  It seems I am leaving my children a meaningful legacy of intangibles.

The tangible side of the ledger is another matter. Given where I started in life economically – no real wealth, just an ability to earn a good income – leaving a financial legacy of real assets required a level of saving and investment success I never achieved. In truth, I have little wealth to leave my children. The money got spent giving them the experiences and education needed to acquire the intangibles.  I sometimes regret spending, saving, and investment decisions I made that, if decided differently, would likely have changed this situation.

Woodson reminded me the fat lady hasn’t sung yet.  He’s pointed out that I retain an ability to acquire financial assets I can leave my children.  Time will tell if he’s correct, but his assessment offers hope and a reason to keep working.  I have, in fact, heard many stories of people achieving late life economic success. Because opportunity remains, I get up every day and keep trying.   

Henry’s Thoughts  The consideration of a gift to leave my children and grandchildren leads to an intense examination of what I value most.

I believe I have moved toward recognizing the beauty and glory of existence in this world and the beauty and glory of this world accompanied by an appreciation and gratefulness for this recognition.

Because we perceive life as so short and fleeting we seem to look toward what lies ahead and spend time preparing for where we wish we were. We always seek a better place--we crave what we do not have.

I believe we can push and plan for a better world while appreciating and enjoying the present--valuing each breath and what it brings. I believe this leads to appreciating each life on earth and working every day in whatever big or small way to enhance the lives of others, even if only to make one individual smile.

Overwhelmingly wonderful peace can come from these realizations. I would like to leave my children a path toward this peace.

It may lead to an "ordinary" life as some see it, or to fame and fortune, but to exist without regret and at peace with that existence could represent the ultimate life can offer. I wish to leave my offspring a legacy of daily life that causes them to examine this path. I suppose I want to leave them balance.

COLLECTIVELY SPEAKING   Our three approaches to legacy offer a window into the practical and the ideal on parenting.  All of us want to leave our children something practical (i.e., “financial freedom”) and something that addresses higher ordered needs and dreams (i.e., “intellectual curiosity”).  But, because we see the value in both, Henry’s concept of “balance” ultimately could serve as a touchstone for what we want to leave our children.  They will lead better lives if we can leave them both the practical and the ideal.

YOUR TURN!                     

Parenting Advice 101: Know When to Hold 'Em, Know When to Fold 'Em

Earlier we discussed our attitudes on corporal punishment in parenting.  That issue arises most often with younger children.  Now, we want to address our interaction with children becoming young adults.  Our experiences helped teach us the need for flexibility in parenting.  No one best way to parent exists and what works one time may not at others.  Parents need rules and principles, but they also need situational awareness.  Sometimes rigidity and preconceived notions must give way to understanding a child’s personality and predisposition.  In the words of the old Kenny Rogers hit about gambling, a parent must know when to hold ‘em and know when to fold ‘em.

Rob’s refereeing assignment.  Having a second family as he did with children born in the 80s and 90s, Rob faced modern issues his parents didn’t see − drug use, weak commitment to education, aggressive insistence on reasons for every rule and decision.  One of Rob’s daughters forced him to mediate between her and her mother.  The daughter demonstrated little interest in adhering to many of her mother’s expectations about academic performance and general demeanor.   They frequently ended up in shouting matches and the daughter absented herself from home for long periods, spending many nights with friends.

Old school parenting mandated requiring that the daughter conform to her mother’s wishes about grades, homework, partying, and boys.  Rob surmised that such an approach would fail with this daughter, given her personality, and trying it might produce more turmoil and, potentially, risked permanently losing her to bad behavior.  He opted to let the daughter “punch herself out” by ignoring her rages against her mother and settling for adherence to minimum standards of conduct.

The strategy worked.  Gradually, the daughter’s bluster subsided.  She cleaned up her act enough to finish high school with a credible academic record, graduated from a major state university, and now works in her chosen field.  Trying to make her conform wasted energy and insufficiently credited her creativity, resourcefulness, and entrepreneurial potential.  This more flexible approach recognized the value in finding a way to get the daughter to do the things she needed to do to set herself up for a successful life, not just make her conform.

Woodson calms down. The Walker family reports a not dissimilar experience. Uncompromising disciplinarians about academics, Woodson and his wife saw academic excellence as the best avenue for African American children to escape the limitations imposed by a racist society. Being subjected themselves to segregated education, in largely inferior schools, then required to compete with white counterparts unhindered by such drawbacks, forged an enduring belief in education as a pathway to success.

One son, as early as eighth grade, expressed a desire to attend Howard University, one of the nation’s top historically black colleges. Upon graduation from high school he applied to Howard, but hedged his bets by also applying to Atlanta’s Morehouse College and Hampton University in Virginia. When Howard did not initially accept him, he said, “I guess it’s not God’s will that I go to Howard.  It must be His will that I go to Hampton.”

Woodson took the comment as violating the family commitment to academic excellence, which he thought Howard offered above the others, and a commitment to making no excuses. Woodson went ballistic.  He admonished the son about making excuses and reminded him, forcefully, that if he wanted something as badly as he professed to wanting to go to Howard, quitting at the first sign of resistance was not an option. 

Upon further review, Woodson realized the fallacy in responding as he did.  This son always showed a thoughtful and sensible side.  He reacted well to reason and exhibited perseverance in most of his endeavors.  No reason existed for getting in his face to convince him he need not give up on his Howard dream.  Careful reasoning and encouragement that he exhaust every possible avenue should have been, and ultimately was, the way to reach him.

Through persistence, the son eventually got into Howard and succeeded there.  In hindsight, Woodson recognized that the screaming was not necessary.  A better approach would have been a calm explanation of the virtues of never giving up on a dream.

Henry’s contract.  At one point Henry’s older son's interest in girls and in having fun exceeded his interest in school. The son had been an exemplary student until this funfest behavior appeared.  The situation presented a parenting dilemma because it brought Henry face to face with a challenge to the norms he’d learned himself as a child and had always enforced as a parent.  Instinct, training, and tradition dictated coming down hard on the son to force him to change his ways.  Henry opted not to do that.  He and his wife proposed a contract with the son.  That agreement included precise behavior requirements, goals, and penalties. Instead of imposing rules from on high, the parents engaged the son on a rational level.  By knowing when to back off and find a solution that really could solve the problem, Henry diffused the situation and kept his son engaged and interested in his education.  The son understood both the purpose and necessity of this approach and within a year was back on track.

So, we’ve learned from our experiences. We present these stories, not as templates but as examples of how we diffused volatile and troublesome situations in ways that produced positive outcomes. Parents should have principles, but good results depend on multiple factors. We’ve come to believe flexibility counts for a lot.  Give us your story.

We Are Parents - First: Or, How Our Kids Turned out Fine Despite Us

To date, we’ve devoted most of our attention in this blog to race, politics, and sports. We’ll have more to say on those subjects as time goes on. Believe it or not, however, we care about other things and it’s time we explored some of them.

First and foremost, being parents has defined our lives. Though our children have reached adulthood, we remain involved in their lives. We still try to “be there” for them and help when we can, particularly by sharing the knowledge we’ve paid so dearly for in the form of our own mistakes. Though some of our parents withdrew from taking intimate roles in our lives once we left home, we’ve chosen a different path.

Admittedly, cell phones, e-mail, and social media make staying in touch with our children easier as they’ve spread out across the country.  Even if it wasn’t so easy, however, we’re convinced remaining involved in our children’s lives, without meddling, offers significant rewards for us and them.  To date they’ve welcomed our involvement and we’re confident if we get overbearing about it, they’re independent-minded enough to tell us to back off.       

Our Children   
Between us, we raised 13 children.  There are, therefore, 13 stories. We won’t claim to have gotten it right with each and every one, but we can say this:  within their individual limits as people, all 13 are solid, respectable citizens who contribute to society and their communities as best they can.  They all enjoy reasonably well-balanced existences that bring them the highs and lows that go with living in America today. Eight have baccalaureate degrees, three are nearing one, and four have professional or graduate degrees. Yes, we’re proud of them and, we think, for good reason.        

We should note that their family stories diverge considerably because the marital and relationship histories of their fathers vary so much. They grew up in different kinds of families.  One of us, Woodson, has survived and thrived through 46 years of marriage to the same woman.  His five children, therefore, came of age in the stability and security of a two-parent household.

Rob and Henry, and their children, lived different lives.  Both married young, but experienced divorce.  They parented a total of eight children and held together blended families. Rob and his children endured the death of a spouse, mother, and stepmother. 

Gifts We Gave   
Though our children traveled different family paths to adulthood, we tried to give each of them, regardless of what else might have been happening in our lives, four treasures:  unconditional love, emotional support, financial stability, and a moral compass.  We didn’t always succeed. We know we made our share of parenting mistakes.  We’re often tempted to regret our failures, but as one of our wives once said, “You don’t get to do this over, but you do get to do it better.” That’s such good advice that it has helped us decide to stay involved with our children and do better in the process.

We find discussing these concepts difficult because of their subjectivity and the fact they defy easy description.  We would never, for example, try to define how a parent gives a child unconditional love.  We certainly wouldn’t try to tell another parent how to give it.  We try to make our children see what they mean to us, to let them know through words and deeds how much they remain a priority for us. Beyond that, we can’t say much, except that if we tried we’d have to say a lot.

Emotional support meant, in our children’s younger years, helping with homework and attending countless football, baseball, and basketball games, soccer matches, dance recitals, art festivals, school plays, and swim meets, as well as offering a shoulder to cry on when somebody wasn’t properly impressed with the prom dress. Today, emotional support may mean career advice that respects professed desires and objectives, yet remains grounded in our real world experience.

Assuring financial stability meant late nights, meeting deadlines, and enduring demanding clients. It also included doing without things we wanted for ourselves. Today, we focus on teaching financial literacy.

Providing a moral compass didn’t necessarily mean the same thing to each of us, given differing ideas about methods of discipline, religion, and sexual morays.  Each of us, however, stood by the conviction that we wanted our children to seek and work for a just and peaceful world, treat others with dignity and respect, and eschew violence if at all possible. As a result, we are confident they all now treat their fellow human beings civilly and compassionately.

Parenting isn’t a science. No assurance exists of getting out of it what goes into it.  We each know parents who did everything right, and more, yet ended up with children who did not turn out as the parents hoped. We understand just how much uncertainty attends parenting. Our experience, however, teaches that adhering to basic principles makes a positive outcome more likely.  The fact we’ve decided to stay involved in our children’s lives as adults and they, so far at least, welcome that involvement, indicates the wisdom of the path we’ve followed.