on wimpiness

I just devoured the book, A Nation of Wimps: The High Cost of Invasive Parenting, by Hara Estroff Marano. I saw it mentioned on a friend's family blog. I had never heard of the book, but the title intrigued me enough that I picked it up at the library on Thursday.

Anybody else read this?

I found it thought provoking, to say the least. The author's analysis goes well beyond the obvious and oft cited effects of overprotective parenting. In fact, anyone with interests in psychology, educational reform, parenting, or even global competitiveness will find food for thought in this book. More than anything else, the book serves reminder that parenting is not immune to the law of unintended consequences; as it turns out, some of the best things for a child's long-term health and happiness are counter-intuitive. For what it's worth, I don't think the author's thesis, whether she was trying to clearly define one or not, was bulletproof, but it sure gave me pause. The book raises as many questions as it answers, but I feel fortunate for having read it.

I especially enjoyed the chapter, "Born To Be Stressed." Here's a paragraph that stuck out...

If contemporary parental attitudes were expressed as an equation, it might go something like this: life minus feeling bad equals a shot at happiness. But a better equation would tell the lumpier truth: life plus doing something difficult and tolerating the discomfort of the process and the uncertainty of the outcome equals a shot at happiness; it also supplies deeper meaning and identity.

It probably resonated with me because it reminds me of a favorite C.S. Lewis quote (of which I have many)...

I do not think the forest would be so bright, nor the water so warm, nor love so sweet, if there were no danger in the lakes.

This morning while I was running with June through Duke's west campus, I passed through swarms of middle-schoolers attending the summer TIP (Talent Identification Program). With this book fresh in my mind, I couldn't help but cynically wonder if these kids were enjoying their summer of intense study or if they were just following some ridiculous script their parents wrote to gain them eventual admittance into the Ivy League, the apparent hallmark of modern parental success. And shortly after passing the TIP students, I passed by the football stadium where a track meet was being held with competitors ranging from middle school up through college. For the young athletes there, I had to wonder the same thing; were they enjoying their sport or were they just on the metaphorical fast track to burning out? At least on the surface things seemed okay. The young kids throwing the nerf-like javelins sure appeared to be having fun. I wish I had known about that event when I was little.

I hope some of you read the book, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. I'm eager for Adrienne to read it so we can discuss it. And for those of you from my hometown, several anecdotes in the early chapters of the book come from Birmingham and Bloomfield Hills. I think you'll find them interesting.