Busy is not a virtue.

In fact, busy is bullshit. Multi-tasking is the devil. We’re doing too much, and not much of it is important, useful, inspired, or part of a passionate life.

Case in point: children’s activities.

I Do NOT Heart League Sports or Bourgeois Lessons

My children are five and (almost) three years old. So far, I have studiously avoided team sports, dance, play-dates and music lessons. But the end of our idyllic free time is nigh.

My oldest starts kindergarten in September, and I anticipate that school will be to her what the apple was to Adam and Eve. Her eyes are going to snap wide open when she finds out that her classmates do things other than play outside and get dirty. The veil of innocence will dissipate, discontentment will ensue and she will realize that her schedule is naked. Her fig leaf will manifest as requests to start gymnastics, ballet, tennis, soccer, baseball, opera, anthropology, mime and juggling.

I dread this.

I cannot adequately describe how deeply and intensely I dread this. In order to capture this fear in words, I would have to invent a new language called ‘forboding’.

In fact, so deeply do I dread this that if I was a hippy or a religious fundamentalist or just deeply paranoid, I’d homeschool her, except then I really would have to put her in activities so that she would spend time with humans other than me. You see my dilemna.

BAH to Being Over-Scheduled and Well-Rounded

Here are my issues.

I think we overschedule our kids, and I’m sure that we do this because we think it is good for them.

I think we overschedule them because we want to keep them off the crack-pipe, which is a noble and practical objective and for this, society thanks you (although TLC and the re-hab industry have quiet misgivings). Please note, however, that the schedules some grade-schoolers endure would drive me straight to the pipe. And I am an adult and presumably more bitchy and resilient and arguably have less disposable income (seriously!) than your average ten year old. So embark upon that path with care, if you please.

We want children to be well-rounded, but well-rounded is a vicious lie. Nobody needs to be well-rounded. We just need one or two overwhelming passions or talents and the freedom and the guts to follow them where they lead us.

Still, I think that we think that a busy, well-rounded schedule leads to a busy, well-rounded child who will get into a busy, well-rounded university so that she can lead a busy, well-rounded professional life.

Kill me now. I did all of those things and have a busy, well-rounded professional life and want nothing more than to just Be. Off. That. Hamster. Wheel.

Here is my objection to the “child must play violin, two sports, dance in a structured environ that requires year-end costumes and extortion via tickets to a torturous recital, and know how to swim” mandate of middle class culture:

• At this exact, activity-free moment, I have as many plates in the air as I can possibly juggle alone. Adding baseball or soccer practice two nights a week and tournaments on weekends WILL upset the fragile, precarious balance in our world.

It is a tipping point, but in the bad way. I see the future and it is so scary that it merits an incomplete run-on sentence that will make your head explode.

Like this:

And that is just me. Pity the children.

The End

My three year old is passionate about sand, rocks, dirt, and being dirty. She has also been borne into my religion, which is shoes, and recently I looked out the kitchen window to see that she was playing in a sand mountain whilst wearing my new, hot pink heels. This, to her, was heaven. Why should I pay fees, eat dinner in the car, chit chat with other weirdly normal parents, so that she can then continue to play in the sand in the outfield of a baseball diamond?

When I played ball we had to take off our jewelry before the game started, so I can only presume that coaches also have rules about just-saying-no to hot pink pumps or would make up some as soon as the issue arose (and it would). We’ve already got paradise by the porch light. I don’t need to join leagues to round off my angular girls. We’re good.

I believe that this parent-driven, frog-marched participation in extra-curricular activities stems from a noble and earnest parental desire to give children the greatest, richest start in life, full of opportunities and experience, so that a child may find their passion and develop a well-rounded resume with a litany of awards and honours and honourable mentions that will get them into a good university, because a good university means a good job, and a good job means a good income, and a good income means a stable, respectable, satisfying life.

And of course a parent wants a child to have a satisfying life. That is The End. The activities are simply the means to that end.

Re: university. There is no guarantee, here, my darlings. I know this from experience, and let me explain why: liberal arts. Wide mind, narrow pay. A university degree (or two!) is no guarantee of good job, good pay.

Re: good job, good pay. The two do not necessarily go together. And even if they do, they do not necessarily lead to a satisfying life.

Re: The End. The End is a satisfying life. Let’s reverse-engineer that, shall we?

I want my children to be happy. I want them to be caring, compassionate people able to act on and actualize their goals, whatever they may be. I want them to live soul-full lives. And to do that, I think they need exactly two skills. They need to know how to interact fluidly and graciously with other people, and they need to know how to learn. This means, in my opinion, that all they need in life are good manners and to be passionately literate. Let’s discuss.

Good manners

I’m not talking about etiquette or charm school or elaborate codes of conduct signalled in silverware. I don’t care which fork you use as long as you don’t stick it in my eye. I’m talking about interacting with people with kindness and compassion in a way that puts them and you at ease. Good manners are social lubricant and a way of showing kindness and respect to others and to yourself. When you understand the purpose good manners and how to use them, you also know when to drop them and go to the mat. This is an essential life skill.

Passionate Literacy

A love affair with words and books and the written word cultivates the imagination, curiosity, and gives you the skills you need to learn anything you want to know about anything. If you love to read, you will be a lifelong learner. If you read critically, you will be able to make sense of the world and your choices within it. If you can navigate the written word, you can chart your own path. Dr. Seuss totally nailed it: “The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you’ll go.” This is the base for launching an empowered, authentic life and that is the stuff of life, baby.

That’s All There Is, Folks

So that’s it. That is my parenting mission. If I instill in my children good manners and a love of reading, I have done my job and given them the tools they will need to live a rich life of their choosing.

That is The End, after all: a satisfying life. I don’t know what it is for them, but I know how they might find it and what they might need along the way.

And, I admit, if my five year old thinks she may find it on the baseball field, then I shall cave and we will rent Field of Dreams.

I’m kidding. I’ll sign her up already.

This entry was posted on Monday, June 22nd, 2009 at 5:59 pm and is filed under Family, How To, Meaning, Purpose, Work. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.