Tag Archives: parenting

I played a parenting sim disguised as the best video game I’ve ever played [The Witcher 3]

Oh no. Here it is. One of those moments where you’ve got to make a snap decision, but you can feel in your heart that it’s a biggie.

Damn. If I let her go off and do this, she’s not ready. She’s going to get hurt. She doesn’t understand the risks. This could end badly – so badly. I’d be an idiot to let a teenage girl walk into that situation without her father.

But if I make the call for her, if I insist on shoving myself into her decision, then I’m also diminishing her as a person. I’m robbing her of the opportunity to become all the woman that she can be. And that’s starting to mean more to me than ‘keeping her safe.’  There’s going to come a day when I’m not there, when I can’t keep her safe. She’s got to be able to make it on her own.

I’ve spent the last week second-guessing my choices as a “parent,” worried that I could have chosen better … This wasn’t what I expected when I popped the game disk into my PS4 in December 2016.

Introducing Geralt the Witcher

The Witcher 3 is a video game by a Polish studio based on a fantasy series popular there, one that is just now making its way into the American market. (You should immediately go buy the first book on Amazon, because if you like fantasy at all, you’ll enjoy it.) The books and games center on the story of Geralt the Witcher, one of the few remaining members of a guild founded in the book’s Middle Ages to fight monsters who prey on humans. As people began to populate the land (a clone of Eastern Europe) back in the day, witchers were created through mutation and strong drugs to be faster and more capable mutant humans, able to take down the terrifying creatures that the humans discovered in their land. But that was hundreds of years ago, and the witchers are a dying breed now, a relic of an older and less-enlightened age, and despised by most people as an aberration.

witcher-3-screenshot-4-840x473Geralt is a pretty hard man at the beginning of his story. Unlike many fantasy RPG’s which throw you into an open world to craft your own story, Geralt brings his own strong, established personality and a definite story arc. He reminds me of a 1930s noir detective. He speaks in short clipped sentences and sees the world in his own version of black and white. To a witcher, the politics of men matter little. His job is to kill the monsters that men can’t kill … though he wisely recognizes that many “monsters” are far better than the rich men and rulers who devour their subjects through greed and corruption. But he wasn’t created to deal with them.

For book fans

This series is based on a phenomenal run of books by Polish author Andrej Sapkowski, and you can find them on Amazon or in bookstores in the SF/F section.  If you’d like to dive into the books, I recommend starting with the excellent short story collection called The Last Wish. The actual first novel is Blood of Elves

Geralt’s unexpected fatherhood

***SPOILERS AHEAD***  Major spoilers! 

Into Geralt’s hard and lonely life comes a child, a Child of Destiny, a consequence of the Law of Surprise. (“As payment, give me something you have at home that you do not expect.” Or “Give me your first child, the one yet unborn.”) Geralt has little use for Destiny since he survives by hard training, fast reflexes, and avoiding the stupidity of a fight he cannot win. But Destiny has other plans, and inserts into his life a six year old, blond firebrand named Ciri. Geralt, when he has a home, lives with a couple other bachelor witchers in a drafty, crumbling castle. His idea of “fun” is either drinking or working out.

But suddenly, he’s a dad. And through the power of video gaming, now so are you.

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Ciri grows up, as children are wont to do. And so does Geralt (who’s 100 years old, by the way, when the story opens – witchers don’t really age thanks to their mutations). And so does Yenefer, Geralt’s on-again/off-again love interest, a woman who’s so polarizing, the Witcher fanbase sorts itself into #TeamYen and #TeamTriss. Yenefer is a hard woman to love. That’s a long story and I’ll leave it for the books or games to unravel for you, but it’s worth noting that I couldn’t stand her for the first several hours I played the game (or the first several hundred pages of the books). I came around later.

….Fatherhood is hard, yo!

But what makes the Witcher 3 a stunning masterpiece of storytelling is the way it thrusts you into the job of parent, so craftily that you don’t realize it’s happened. Geralt is on a mission to find Ciri #becauseplot and along the way you’re asked to make decisions, often in the heat of a moment, about how you’re going to respond to Ciri’s attitude or request or needs.

Do you coddle her? Encourage her? Forbid her? Protect her?

It matters. There are three major endings to the primary game, and one of them is horrible. Gamers talk about how that ending crushed them. The other two endings are “good” but also bittersweet.

Parents can’t keep their kids forever. It’s not what’s meant to be, no matter how much you enjoy their company. You’ve got to let go. The big question is, will you be able to live with yourself once you see the embodiment of all your parenting choices? #allthefeels

…and parenting changes you

What struck me, once I finished the game, was how much Geralt and Yenefer (and I-as-Geralt) had changed because of parenting Ciri. You realize you’re making decisions differently. They’re sacrificing themselves for the sake of this girl they’re raising.

And as Ciri becomes more and more their heart-child, a woman they will fight and die for because they love her that deeply, their sacrifice is redemptive. By sacrificing themselves, they save themselves – from a life of loneliness and bitterness and selfishness. “He who saves his life shall lose it; but he who sacrifices his life for My sake, shall find it,” said Christ in the Gospels. Learning to live and love sacrificially has consequences, primarily for the person who’s learning to love selflessly.

Please dive into this game if you have any inclination toward video games at all. I promise, you won’t be disappointed. In fact, I’ll probably find you bawling your eyes out at the ending, like I did…. because that’s what a great game does for you. It drives home its story so that you cannot escape it, so that you feel it and walk around in a daze for a bit afterward, wondering how you could have been a better parent…..

I recommend reading this lovely short piece on the quality of The Witcher 3‘s storytelling.

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Over 800 awards for this game. Nothing to sneeze at.

You might also enjoy this great analysis by the guys at Extra Credits on how The Witcher 3 uses choice and romantic dilemmas to force the player to confront his/her own character:

Is there a connection between ‘innocence’ and ‘privilege’? 

I came across this excellent piece by Shannon Gaggero about her realization that her (white, middle-class) kids experience innocence differently than children in other households may.

Put simply, maintaining children’s “innocence” is an opportunity available only to parents who are already working from a position of privilege within mainstream society, usually through a combination of sufficient financial/socio-economic standing, social “capital,” and racial identity.

Preserving my children’s innocence is an act of preserving white supremacy – A Striving Parent

Shannon describes children’s books, resources, and talking points she uses with her very young kids to help them see injustice and respond to that in appropriate ways.

*****
Several years ago, my colleague Jack and I were asked by some VBS organizers at our church to teach the “missionary story” to a group of preschool children. [If you know anything about me, you should be chuckling right now…. the last time I worked with preschoolers, I was a high schooler helping out in my small church’s VBS and wondering what I’d done to make the universe assign me such tiny humans whom I didn’t understand at all. (My lifelong habit has been to work with post-pubescent beings.)] Jack doesn’t have kids of his own yet but he’s got a pile of nieces and nephews and seems to be better at translating toddler behavior into something understandable.

Anyway, the missionary story – for those of you who might not have been raised in VBS culture –  is that moment when a VBS worker attempts to compress a complex, nuanced story of someone’s cross-cultural ministry experiences usually in a colonial or post-colonial society into a 5 to 10 minute Golden Book of missionary fervor.

[That comes across as too harsh; I loved hearing missionary stories as a kid because they were human and interesting and a little more connected to what I could envision as day to day life than Bible stories. I’m a little worried that most of the adults in the churches I’ve gone to aren’t aware of the imperialist baggage of white missionary activity among populations in Africa, India, or Asia and how that probably hindered their work for the sake of the Gospel. But that’s a topic for a different day.]

Jack and I had been asked to share a missionary story with pre-K kids for the sake of cross-cultural education. A mission we could get behind for sure. So one of us dug out of our closet a CEF story book about Mary Slessor, the legendary Scotswoman who labored in West Africa for decades and adopted many children who would have otherwise been murdered due to the local custom of treating twins as demon-possessed.

Slessor’s story in the CEF book opens with her childhood, making mention of her upbringing in poverty with a drunken and abusive father. Jack was telling the story on this first day, softening the language into something more palatable for 4 and 5 year old ears: “Her father was a very bad man. He was mean to Mary and to Mary’s mom.”

I’ve told this story myself to groups of kids at Good News Clubs (another high school / college era activity) from a variety of backgrounds. At the time, it wouldn’t have occurred to me that some of the kids listening might know far too much about domestic violence. At least I grasped the poverty angle.

But as an adult with several years of teaching experience, I knew this was a touchy moment in the story. I also knew that it might be hard to explain to 21st century white middle-class parents why their little kids were coming home talking about domestic violence. I figured the innocence of church kids would preserve us. Most people raised in similar circles (Christian, conservative, white) don’t clue in to social justice issues until they’re far older.

I’d forgotten about the kid in the room from CHC.  CHC is a local charity, one of the very best I’ve ever known, operating group homes for foster children in our area. Despite nearly shutting down when South Carolina went through a phase of refusing to place kids in group homes in a burst of idealism that hardly matched the dire need for foster care in our state, CHC weathered the storm and – as you might expect – is running at capacity. Their kids attend church with the resident houseparents, and in this case, VBS.

I’ve forgotten his name, this beautiful little boy with curly hair and a toothless smile. He was impish – small for his age, a wicked grin, always into everything, fighting every boundary. I didn’t know his story, but every instinct told me he could be a handful.

Yes. “Handful.”That’s how we describe the children who howl or bite or rage against the dysfunction and/or drug abuse and/or sexual assault and/or generational poverty and neglect which ground up their families and spit them out into a state system that tries to provide a pale resemblance of family life and normalcy. 

This boy, I’ll call him “Mark,” was listening to Jack tell Mary Slessor’s story today. And he knew. He understood. His 4-year-old body knew what it meant in real terms when Jack said, “Mary’s father was a bad man, a mean man.” So he contributed. This was a story he could grasp. “My mommy is bad. She hit my sister on the leg.”

Later, “My mommy tried to hurt me with a knife.”

I wrote about this at the time, but I bring it up again because 7 years later, I still can’t get that moment out of my mind. I was horrified to confront in that moment a glimpse of what this child had already experienced, a sin-drenched violation of maternal instinct. And I was equally terrified that the other kids would realize what he was saying and start asking questions. And that we would soon be in the middle of a preschooler crisis and then a horde of angry parents would appear at our door with pitchforks.

That, my friends, is probably as close as I can get you to a teacher’s inner monologue. Every lesson, if you’re doing it right, teeters on the edge of incredible discovery and deep learning, but that always comes at the risk of stabbing straight into one of the questions we adults cannot answer, like why mothers of 4 year olds would try to stab them. Or why the richest nation on earth has such a drug problem. Or why South Carolina can’t seem to do anything about the generational poverty that chews up its citizens. And if your lesson crosses over into those churning waters where the real learning happens, your animal brain begins to tingle with fearful anticipation of the phone calls you’re going to get from parents or school board members when they realize your discussion of Dickens robbed children of their innocence.

Friends, I ask this in all sincerity:

How can parents know whether preserving the purity and innocence of their children – whether toddler or teen – is wisdom or idolatry?  

I’ve seen this many times in my work with teens and young adults: healing the wounds of dysfunction and pain requires interaction with healthy, functional peers and adults. So if all the healthy, functional families cocoon themselves, who’s left to walk alongside the wounded?

What can this look like, if it’s done well? Is a school community capable of this? Is it a church responsibility? Can a family accomplish this kind of ‘education’ on its own, apart from church or school?

What Grace in parenting teens might look like

Ran across this excellent piece about the storms of parenting adolescents. 

I had to hold back tears when I read this, because it dredged up deep memories of watching friends and parents I know do this for their teens. Grace always hits me in the feels like that. 

I usually got to see both sides — the fear and fighting from the scared teen, and the pain and fear it caused their parents. 
Yet they both held on. And they made it. 

The Letter Your Teenager Can’t Write You

Empty-Nesters: Please get back Into the pool. We need you.

Why aren’t there survival support groups for parents of teenagers?

I’m serious. Hear me out.

If what I observe is even remotely accurate,  the World has decided that Toddlers and Preschoolers demand the kind of support and attention given to Three Mile Island by a nuclear engineer prone to anxiety attacks.

d42dbb727391bbeb114561bb6ae8ae78New mothers should be surrounded by a support group the size of a brigade — including grandparents, friends of grandparents, church nursery workers, the moms of older kids who miss having a baby around, the fathers of older kids who are actually really great with babies but don’t push themselves into the gaggle of chattering women to get a chance to hold the newest addition…..Basically everyone within earshot of the crying babe.

I’m all about support networks.  Good lord, if I have a kid, I’m calling on anyone within siren distance for help.  I am an idiot when it comes to little kids. Completely incompetent.

But I think this whole parent support network breaks down as kids get older.

I spent a decade teaching teens, meaning I got to know a lot of parents of teens.  As a crowd, these parents tend to share some common characteristics:

  • They’re confused and sometimes hurt or angry because their teen seems to be suffering from multiple personality disorder. It’s as if 6 children have all moved into the same body…. 4 of them are total assholes at least half the time, 1 is always asleep, 3 “can’t even,” and the only nice one emerges when the parent isn’t around.
  • They’re tired because teenagers have ridiculous expectations for social lives but restricted access to driving privileges, a car, or gas money.  So the parental taxi service runs non-stop, the management of curfew is non-stop, the litany of last-minute requests to buy something that should have been taken care of last week is non-stop, the vigilance over “what were you doing last weekend” never stops.
NOT IMPRESSED: Teenagers as a species.
NOT IMPRESSED: Teenagers as a species.
  • They’re poor because nothing tops teen expectations for transportation except their need for money, electronics, clothes, games, movie tickets, adventures with friends, and school supplies. Maybe you can resist “keeping up with the Joneses” but your kid probably can’t.
  • They’re weary of the interpersonal conflict.  Sometimes kids grow up without giving their parents hell all the time. But almost every parent  has to live through at least 12-18 months of crap. Kids know where your buttons are. They know where it hurts. Sometimes they go for the jugular…but usually they’re just cluelessly self-absorbed adolescents drowning in angst.
  • They’re scared that they’re doing it wrong. Parenting is one of those jobs where you don’t know what to do until after you’ve lived through it and gained the experience you would have given a body part to possess 3 days ago.  And every kid is different so those hard-earned lessons may not transfer to the next one.
  • PARENTS, this is you.
    PARENTS, this is you in TeenWorld….. Misspellings and all. Without RDJ’s cool factor.

    They’re wrestling with the balance between safety and freedom, with when to intervene and when to let life teach its hard lessons. A teenager’s character blossoms in exciting ways, giving glimpses of the incredible person tucked inside, a vision of stunning future potential. But they’re also old enough to really, truly screw it up….bad. With lifelong consequences.  That’ll keep anyone up at night. Which makes teenagers’ unhappiness with their parents’ involvement all the more infuriating.

  • They’re feeling guilty because social media and casual conversation make it look like everyone else, despite all their protestations, is doing it so much better. Those people’s kids seem nicer, kinder, smarter, better dressed, better fed, better educated, more involved, and readier for college. Oh yeah, college! Another thing to feel guilty about – how big is your tuition savings account? (Answer: Never big enough.)

If the teen in question is a first-born, raise the intensity of all of these by a factor of 10.

To this, I have something to say:

Empty nesters, we need you.

Where are the support groupies for the parents of teens? They’re out on the lake. They’re chasing retirement. They’re trying to keep up with a kid at college who never calls home and loses all his socks so he just doesn’t bother wearing any, ever.  They’re tired because they’re 50 years old still working 50 hours a week. They’re saving for a future wedding (fingers crossed). They’re distracted because a first grandchild is on the way.

But empty-nesters, we still need you.

266092394761f1b95c58df16df767d59YOU are the voice of reason to the parents of teens in your life (and in your church and in your extended network of people you knew when your kids were in school).

YOU are the evidence that parenting adolescents need not be a terminal illness or the #1 cause of ulcers in adults in their 40s. (I made that up; stop Googling.)

YOU possess the power to say the magic words that parents of teens need to hear again and again and again: “It’s going to be okay.” 

The Apostle Paul gave Titus a model for church relationships as Titus got started in his pastoral career in Crete. In chapter 2, Paul suggests that it’s the older and more experienced people in the church who should mentor those coming along behind in the ways of life: marriage, parenting, working, living.

The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve noticed this mentoring cycle  seems to break as families grow up. I can imagine many reasons:  Social circles for kids and parents harden into the natural groupings driven by school, pulling families into spending time primarily around people who have kids of similar ages. With everyone tucked neatly into these strata, who has time to break out and ask for a hand up?

So. If you’re reading this, and your kids are grown, please find a family who’s still raising their kid13441326730742762560-1368441969s, and invest in their lives. Just start with going out for coffee or beer – what parent of teens doesn’t need chemical assistance?

Get to know teens in your church or neighborhood. Volunteer to chaperon a youth group trip, or have a bunch over for cookies. (Teens still like cookies.) It won’t be weird. I promise. Teens hate only their own parents. 🙂

Hillary earned a lot of scorn in the 90s when she reminded us “It takes a village to raise a child.”  But it DOES take a village. Being part of the Body means parents aren’t supposed to be stuck doing this alone. The rest of us at different stages of life should be investing something in the people coming after us.

Get back in the pool, Empty Nesters! You’re the lifeguards.

Link: Helicopter parenting is increasingly correlated with college-age depression and anxiety.

The data emerging about the mental health of our kids only confirms the harm done by asking so little of them when it comes to life skills yet so much of them when it comes to adhering to the academic plans we’ve made for them.

Really. This has got to stop.  And not just “everybody else is doing it wrong” but a genuine assessment of our own attitudes and behaviors toward the kids in our lives.

Read on:

via Helicopter parenting is increasingly correlated with college-age depression and anxiety..