So I’ve got a daughter, and she’s two and a half. I want her to be great. I’m flexible on what that means, but I’m not flexible on what it doesn’t mean. I don’t want her to be a product of American culture. I don’t want her to be superficial, to think most of herself, or to not achieve her potential, whatever that means. She can be an astronaut, a violinist, an engineer, or a philosopher. She will get a good education, be raised with healthy food, and value physical fitness.
When I tell most people these things, at best they think I’m a deluded idealist, or at worst they think I’m a dangerous crackpot. A couple past coworkers who both have children were listening to me talk about this, and they both smiled and told me everything would change once I had kids - that my idealism would quickly fade away. I took that as an insult to my character, vehemently disagreeing.
Two and a half years in, I still want to vehemently disagree but also find myself rethinking my reasoning, my motives.
Take, for example, a DVD my family recently watched from the library on how to become an astronaut. Most of the video centered on a recently selected class of astronauts talking about their background, how they became astronauts, and what being an astronaut was like. They sat on a stage at NASA and answered questions from an audience of visiting students. The snippet that stood out to me was the astronauts’ backgrounds. All the astronauts were extremely high achieving individuals: engineers, doctors, and scientists. They talked about the necessity of high level STEM classes. One of them talked about his physics PhD. None of this was surprising to me, but for some reason, it brought back memories of my struggles in precalculus, chemistry, and physics in high school. I was leagues away from the advanced STEM classes they were talking about, and I was already struggling. My wife also didn’t thrive in some of her STEM classes. Where do I think my child is going to get these magical genetics allowing them to be an astronaut? I don’t want to hold her back, but I don’t want to set her up for failure either.
At this point in my life, I’ve met many people; some are dumber than me, and others are smarter. Is that crude to say? Sure. Is it indisputably true? Definitely. I do agree that there is something to be said about multiple different kinds of intelligence. But this isn’t a video game or Dungeons and Dragons where everyone gets the same number of “attribute points” to assign to their chosen intelligence. No, the world is not fair. Some have high marks in almost every category of intelligence - the polyglot. And others, I’m afraid, just aren’t great at anything. Is this you? Because it’s me, and it may be my child. Take a moment to cry for yourself. Have a little pity party. But then get up. Because there is still a life to live.
“The youth gets together his materials to build a bridge to the moon, or, perchance, a palace or temple on the earth, and, at length, the middle-aged man concludes to build a woodshed with them.”
Henry David Thoreau
What’s the origin of my idealism, my expectation of exceptionalism? I’m not sure. Maybe it’s my parents believing in me a little too much. Maybe my self-esteem is overinflated. Maybe it’s because I’m a Millennial. I would venture that growing up in America, the land where you can do anything and become anyone, had something to do with it. Also, our current technological age spoon-feeds us idealized representations through social media and podcasts of those who are considered greatest. For some of us, these are singers, actors, and actresses; for others, these are scientists, politicians, or writers. And even when social media feeds us people we know, the versions of these people are filtered and fake, only showing the best sides. With a pathological system such as this, how would we expect to have even mildly realistic expectations?
But all idealism isn’t bad. Without goals and expectations, without ideals, we are reactive and sedentary. We head towards a dark world full of bright LEDs, the world of Wall-E. I still cherish the film Captain Fantastic. Viggo Mortensen plays the protagonist, a father of six children, who is raising his kids off the grid. The kids have a regimented daily routine for them involving a heavy workout, learning about nature, and teaching themselves a variety of academic topics. The father is the quintessential idealist. He attempts to raise “philosopher kings” as described by Plato. Much of the concept explored in the movie is appealing to me, but I understand the hurdles. The greatest is my own hypocrisy.
That brings me to the chief example of the present: my daughter’s veganism/plant-based diet. She has been plant-based (aside from breast milk, of course) since she was born. As she gets older, sustaining this practice is becoming more of a challenge. My wife and I both value plant-based eating for its health benefits and for its softer impact on the planet, but neither one of us is strictly plant-based currently. We are much more plant-based than the average person, and each of us has had stints of being strict, but that isn’t now. So in moments like this, where my daughter wants the birthday cake served at her toddler friend’s birthday that all her friends are eating, cake that even myself and my wife are eating when she isn’t looking, what am I to do? Should I cave for her because of my own weakness? I don’t know the answer. I don’t plan on carrying on like this forever; it is too much to bear.
Then there is the screen situation. I grew up playing video games. And I love a great movie every now and again. I’ve given up these activities for periods of time but have always returned to my proverbial bottle. But in all actuality (and maybe this is me justifying my actions), I’m not convinced that watching a great film every once in a while (it’s not sinful if you call it film), or that playing video games with my friends semi regularly is objectively worse than whatever pleasurable activity I would be replacing it with. But here I am again, severely limiting these activities in my children.
Where does idealism turn into living by rules and principles for their own sake? Where is the relationship? This feels more like boot camp or prison. Yes, yes, moderation is the answer as always. But doesn’t that just make us normal? Where is the greatness? The exceptionalism? The follow up question is, “would there be exceptionalism even with the idealism?”
What is the actual outcome of lived out idealism?
Do the kids or myself actually turn out much different/better than they would without more compromise?
The goal is to have them become Obama, Elon, or a modern day Aristotle, but are any of these realistic possibilities even if I shape the environment exactly how I would want it? Chances are, no.
And then the forbidden question of my daughter: What does she want?
Great post for all us new parents! It makes me think: What do I want my daughter to be exceptional at? What do I want her to succeed in? It's like that quote about how "our greatest fear shouldn't be failure, but rather succeeding at something that doesn't really matter." Or the Arthur Brooks distinction between resume virtues (what you bring to the marketplace) and eulogy virtues (what they say at your funeral). So what kind of PERSON is my daughter becoming?