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On Being Raised Right

From a child who wasn't given a curfew

170
On Being Raised Right

I know many parents that would disagree with the way my parents raised me, but now that I’m (so far) a successful, independent, confident college student I am finally able to prove their thoughts wrong.

I wasn’t raised like most of my friends were, that’s for sure. At a very young age I was doing things my peers didn’t. For example, I remember waking up on my 8th birthday with my mom giving me my presents, then her walking out of my bedroom saying something along the lines of, “Now make your own bed!” and then some sort of evil laugh afterwards. I’m not entirely sure if the evil laugh actually happened but it just seems fitting because I never associated age with responsibility before then, and this was just the start of a whole lot.

Chores were one thing, and I started very young. After dinners, I had to help my mom clean the dishes, wipe the tabletop, and sweep the floor, in just that order. Once my sister turned the dreadful age of 8, I had to teach her to do these things with me. Once my sister learned, it was entirely our responsibility to automatically get up and clean after dinner, and if we didn’t immediately do this, we were yelled at. We hated being yelled at so we just took the role of cleaning the kitchen while my mom rested on the couch, and after all, my mom did prepare a whole meal for the family after a long day at work, so she did deserve to lie on the couch while we cleaned. My mom was never the type to say, “Aw no honey, go put your pjs on and I’ll be right up to tuck you in.” There was order, and tasks for all of us, and that’s how our house was run.

Now I look back and am truly grateful that my mom taught me to do simple things so early on. There are still people my age that put too much detergent in the wash where the bubbles come foaming out of the machine. Even at one of my more recent jobs at a clothing store, my coworker was given the task of sweeping and vacuuming while I hung clothes on hangers, and she asked to switch tasks because she didn’t know how to sweep. I looked at my 20-year-old coworker in disbelief, and agreed to switching.

Both of my parents have an athletic background, so sports were important to them. They introduced my siblings and me to all the sports we’ve ever played. They would ask us first if we wanted to play, and if we said yes, they would happily sign us up. But when the time came when we were uninterested in a sport, they never asked us twice about it. I told my mom I wanted to quit soccer because I hated running, and that was that. My brother recently quit all his sports for his passion for wrestling. My dad didn’t flinch when my brother said he wanted to quit football, so my brother didn’t show up to practice the next day, and he didn’t feel guilty about it either. Through this my parents taught me to never settle for something that makes you unhappy, and don’t quit until that unhappiness is fixed. You find yourself through your happiness’s. All the things that make you unhappy just make you more unsure about who you are as a person. They are roadblocks to becoming, you.

Having 3 kids may not seem like a lot, but having 3 very involved kids is a lot for a parent to handle. At one point in my high school career, my sister had girl scouts, gymnastics (school and club), and track, while my brother had wrestling, jujitsu, lacrosse, football, and baseball, and I had softball (school and travel), volleyball, honor societies, a job, and drivers ed. My mom told me to start being responsible for knowing when my games, practices and tournaments were for my travel team. This meant being the only player on a team with 18ish girls where her parents don’t receive the coach’s emails. I handled it, and this gave me a sense of growing up and being responsible for my own interests and activities. This actually helped me later on because I found that communicating with adults was much easier.

Academics is where my parents took a very different approach. In early elementary school they would sit down and help me, but once I hit the later grades in elementary school, they expected more out of me with my homework. They would tell me that I’m older now and that I should be able to handle my homework by myself, which I did. While I was in elementary school, my parents also had my speech-delayed little sister and infant brother on their hands, the last thing they needed was to be babying a fully-capable child.

In middle school, I remember the only time I would even ask my mom to help me was to quiz me on my own index cards. At the dinner table after school every day, my father would ask us one thing we learned that day. I feel that discussing things like that sparked my competitive nature and made me more interested in learning because I saw that my education started to surpass my parents’ education, and I secretly liked being ‘smarter’ than them. Even though my mom swears her age makes her omniscient, I knew I had a chance at being ‘smarter’ than her one day. As in ‘smarter’ I mean cognitively, because I’m convinced my mom can read people and their intentions (which every mom probably can). From middle school on, my parents only knew when I had a test when I would ask to be excused from chores because I needed to study (which I took advantage of quite often). They had no interest in being up my butt about my homework, quizzes, tests, projects, or presentations unless I asked them for help. I became such an independent, diligent, focused student and no longer needed their help at all once I entered high school. When my parents checked my report card at the end of every year, they expected nothing but high grades. One time my grades slipped, and my parents showed their disappointment so well that I was genuinely embarrassed. From there on, I felt that getting bad grades was a terrible reflection on myself and I never slacked again. My parents raised me to understand that only my teachers’, family’s, and boss’s judgement of me mattered, because these are the people that could either make or break me as an individual.

In high school, I asked my mom for help with specifically 2 things. The first, was paperwork for my 10 day trip through Italy. The second, was my college application. My parents had no idea where to start or end with the college application, but they did their best, and that year I made many trips to my guidance office to seek help. Through the process of applying for college alone, I learned to use the resources I was given in the high school. Looking back on this situation, I see that now I am completely unafraid to go to any office and ask people questions, because questions and curiosity are absolutely the key to knowledge, and knowledge is power (as my dad always tells me).

Once I got my license my parents told me to text them where I was going and when I’d be back. They wouldn’t give me a curfew. They knew how stubborn I was and they knew that if they had given me a curfew that I would sneak my way. And this is very true, when I got my license I was very entitled to my independence, and they knew my personality too well to disagree with me, so they worked with me instead. When I told my mom I was leaving, she would tell me to text her a time that I would be back so she knew she didn’t have to worry. She would also tell me to call her if I ended up drinking if I needed a ride. She never made the topic of underage drinking awkward. It is important as a parent to not scare your child out of telling you important things. With the comfort of my mom, I was never afraid to call her or my dad if I needed a ride because I was drunk. Although this never happened because I never actually was drinking, I knew I would never be scared to tell my parents if I were, because I knew how important I am to them, and I respected that. So when I would get home late, I’d go in her room, wake her up a little, and tell her I was home. Reflecting on this, I see how respect and trust was given to me and I never took advantage of that. My parents seeing who I was as a person and working with that was a huge success in our relationship, and this is a time in my life where I started to see that my parents were COOL.


Now being in college I can reflect on what made me the student and individual that I am, and I couldn’t be happier with the results. Being raised correctly is very important, and there are obviously different ways to do it depending on the child’s personality. My parents raised me to RESPECT them, and myself. My dad taught me when I was very young that the absolute worst thing I could possibly do is lie to him. This foundation of respect, honesty, and trust is what made me who I am, not strict rules, nagging about my grades, or curfews. Respect, trust and honesty is, in my eyes, the best way to raise a confident, successful child.

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