Did we fail to teach our kids resilience?
Now that the pandemic has run for over four months with a continued lack of answers or solutions, we are all having to mine inner reserves of resilience to cope, however, I wonder if I’m better equipped to do this than my teenage children? I fear I am. Have we, as parents, failed to give them the tools they need to deal with this period of uncertainty, where norms of life have been cast aside?
For us, normal life pre-pandemic comprised of diaries fit to burst with work commitments, travel, socialising, shopping and instagrammable moments. For kids, between schoolwork and streaming content on personal laptops that are as good as surgically attached, our teens are bombarded with gigantic issues that their generation are expected to address; from climate change, to sexual inequality, to Black Lives Matter. For light relief, they turn to TikTok skits and dances performed expertly by teens with sculpted abs and flawless smiles, or stream picture perfect cake icing or crafting demos. It’s not surprising that they judge themselves harshly, deeming themselves ill equipped to match up. It must be tempting to quit before you’ve even tried.
When I was a child during the 70s and 80s, there was much time spent staring into space while waiting for a scheduled TV programme to air. Spare time was plentiful and resourcefulness required in spades to get through lengthy weekends and school holidays at home, without the company of fingerprint enabled communication devices. Perhaps due to cost, post-war parents were not too concerned with taking children on holiday, out for treat days or clothes shopping. Books were expected to be our escape and time spent in the garden, a ‘fix all’ tonic. One year, driven by boredom, I inexpertly blew the contents out of duck egg shells and painted each one with a wobbly Springtime scene copied from a nursery rhyme book, then gifted them to my family for Easter. Kind relatives effused but they really weren’t very good. Fast forward to the 21st century where every day is busy and school sports days, now attended by all parents, are run on the basis that everyone gets a medal. Every…single…child.
In Kenya, where nothing is handed out for free and access to technology minimal, resilience is a prerequisite for survival. In March, when the president required hand washing stations be readily available in villages, slums and outside shops in the wake of the coronavirus pandemic, the ingenuity of homemade solutions, such as foot operated tippy taps without connection to running water, have been inspired. Here in Kenya, children have invented solutions to scare lion from their livestock at night and stop elephant from raiding their crops. The local population is familiar with the concept of making food or clothing supplies stretch and when catastrophe hits, as it so often does, in the form of unemployment, flood, locusts, crop failure or drought, the expectation is for people to pick themselves up with nothing and start again. This is the country that invented mobile money transfer in the face of steep formal banking costs and the high risk of carrying cash. Low cost solutions are necessary where social security barely exists and scant help comes most often from community, church or NGO.
Writers are used to frequent rejection from literary agents or editors; labouring over work that will not get published. When we aim high, there is further to fall. In most careers, resilience is key. From athletes and medical professionals, dancers and artists, to police and politicians. For the majority of us, we must accept being average. Not the best, nor the most talented but able to continue undeterred, with an ability not to give up at the first hurdle. To accept being simply good enough for me.
As we journey through this pandemic, resilience is required to cope with separation from loved ones, a decline in mental health and the spectre of job losses. All adults face a period in life where resilience is tested. Emigrating to Tanzania as a newlywed with no friends, no work, no knowledge of the culture nor local language and very little money, tested my skills of resourcefulness just to get through each day. Winning through in the end carried no tangible reward but it was still worth doing.
The question is, how do we pass skills of resilience on to our kids who have had their lives mapped out and never before faced a yawning period of uncertainly and nothingness like this? We ask a lot of them in terms of academic and personal achievement and, thanks to social media, peer pressure for young people has reached unprecedented heights.
As parents of teens, perhaps it’s time to curb our tendency to provide finite answers, quick solutions to problems, shield our kids from painful truths or constantly give them crutches to swerve this reality. Let’s instead promote kindness, thinking of others and putting down that phone. Advice that I’d do well to follow too.
Originally published at http://africaexpatwivesclub.wordpress.com on June 11, 2020.
