Essential Questions

It is often said that children learn not from what their parents say, but what they do. While this is certainly an overstatement (words certainly matter), the importance of action can hardly be overestimated.

What place does confession have in the family?
In the current wave of bad parent literature, lots of parents are willing to publicly "confess" their failures. But, as I've suggested elsewhere, confession that doesn't involve contrition and change doesn't deserve the name. Confession is tremendously important, and perhaps nowhere more important than in the life of a family.

Inviting anarchy?
To many parents the prospect of confessing that they have done wrong and need forgiveness is invitating anarchy. The reasoning goes, "If I let down my guard with my kids, then they'll run all over me. I'm in charge, and I need to act like I'm in charge." Of course this is not the only reason for not confessing. Perhaps the most pervasive reason is simple shame. To admit my failures and ask someone else to forgive me is humiliating. It is far easier to let water pass under the bridge than to take responsibility for my actions.

What are you communicating?
Whatever the reasons are for holding back on confession, the implications for the family are numerous. If your kids (to say nothing of your spouse) see you lose your temper, but do nothing to set things right, they can conclude one of two things: (1) It is all right to lose your temper, or (2) Parents are hypocrites; they tell us not to have melt-downs, but they get to. You may not be saying either of these in as many words, but this is how children perceive parental action.

What does confession do?
The beauty of confession is that it allows parents and children alike to have integrity and freedom. When a dad fails to keep his word, and then asks his son for forgiveness, the son learns that his dad's word means something. It doesn't mean that his dad isn't going to fail. But it means that he is going to have integrity. By example, the son learns to be honest, to own his mistakes, and to restore relationships. If the same father fails to keep his word and doesn't ask for forgiveness, the child learns that dad's word isn't worth much. His words and actions don't correspond. When children consistently see their parents admit their failures, small and large, to one another and to the family, they learn to do the same.

What have you learned about the virtue of confession in your family?

There are a host of self-confessed "bad parents" who confess their parenting "sins." In fact, Kristina Sauerwein boldly claims that it is chic to be a bad mom. But are "bad parents" the only ones confessing?

What is the point of confession?
For "bad parents" the point of confession is transparency. Rather than pretending to have it together, they're ready to say that they don't. This the the integrity in their position that creates its allure. For parents who are trapped in a game of pretense and hypocrisy, the prospect of being honest and transparent is exciting.

But can transparency be the only aim of confession? If my daughter comes to me and tells me that she wrote on the wall with a Sharpie, I commend her for her honesty, and we talk together about the consequences of her action, and the future consequences of repeating this action. I welcome and honor the transparency of her confession, but I fully expect that the outcome of confession is going to be change. In confessing, she is telling me something that she has done wrong. There is no celebration of what she has done. There is still Sharpie on the wall. We look to the hard work of cleaning up the mess; we request and offer forgiveness; and we talk creatively about how to prevent it happening again. Confession that doesn't involve contrition and repentance is not confession in the sense that any wise parent would want to hear from a child. Why should we welcome it from parents?

So, what do good parents confess?
Good parents can, should be, and - by definition - are engaged in confession. The critical difference is that their confession involves contrition and repentance. If I get angry at my daughter because she disobeys a simple instruction that I have clearly given her and I speak to her in an unkind way, the only kind of confession that is appropriate is one that says:

1. I was wrong.
2. Will you forgive me?
3. I want to change.
4. I'm going to think about what I can do differently next time so that I don't fall into a rut of unkindness.

This is the kind of humility and confession that is an essential characteristic of good parents. Why essential? Because every parent fails. This is without exception. So there are three ways to handle these inevitable failures:

1. Hypocrisy says "I didn't do it," or "It wasn't a big deal."
2. Transparency says "I did it. I'm human. So what?"
3. Humility says "I did it. I was wrong. I'm sorry. I want to change. Will you forgive me?"

Only one of these alternatives is honorable - and it isn't the one that tries to save face. Good parenting is not the absence of failure; it is the ubiquitous presence of humility.

Our children learn from our example. Will they become hypocrites, transparent, or humble?

There are two confusing dynamics of the current buzz about bad parenting.

1. Lack of shame First, as parents fall over one another to tell the things that they've done, there doesn't seem to be remorse or shame. Quite to the contrary, there seems to be a sort of pride in being candid about their feelings, words and deeds.
2. Redefining good Second, and perhaps more subtle, is that the whole discussion is aimed at redefining what good parenting is. For there is no way to define 'bad', except with respect to 'good.' And you cannot celebrate something except inasmuch as you regard it as good.

What are "bad parents" confessing?
It seems that part of the "bad parent" trend is simply a reaction against expectations, or perceived expectations, of what it means to be a good parent. One class of "sins" commonly confessed by "bad parents" are formula feeding (and disliking breastfeeding), feeding kids junk food, and letting their kids watch lots of TV. A second class of "sins" that Kristina Sauerwein names in Fortunately its chic to be a bad mom includes telling vulgar tales about cartoon characters, yelling profanity, being driven crazy by your kids, and delighting in the public disgrace of "holier-than-thou" parents.

Why aren't "bad parents" ashamed?
The dynamic of the whole movement is that what "bad parents" are confessing they don't perceive as really bad; they contend it is just normal. What is abnormal, they say, is that parents will open up and admit it. Considering the two classes of "sins" above, they can be broadly divided into health/development and virtue/taboo. In the health and development category, breaking the norms is simply saying that being uptight about TV, food and nutrition isn't good. In fact, they'd say, it is better to be honest about it than to "keep up appearances." With respect to virtue and taboos, the thrust is the same: being a good parent doesn't mean restraining your tongue, cultivating perseverance, and having pity on the parent whose child has a public melt-down. "Bad parents" aren't ashamed to admit these things because they're working with a different definition of good.

What is good parenting?
Most "discussions" of good parenting and bad parenting turn into online shouting matches, full of name-calling and contempt. Why? The parties involved start with different sets of assumptions about what good parenting is, but spend all of their time arguing about (or ridiculing) conclusions. Usually, both sides walk away amazed at how hard-headed the other side is, and neither has learned much from the exchange.

In order to offer a definition of good parenting (and implicitly define bad parenting), I need to be forthright about my assumptions. I assume that parents bear the primary responsibility for nurturing character, competence, creativity and collaboration in their children - which is to say, their overall well-being. These interrelated qualities which parents nurture are not equal in priority and import. If character is not the first priority, the rest will be in shambles. In other words, nurturing your child's integrity is far more important than whether he is breastfed.

What is bad parenting?
Bad parenting is failing to fulfill this responsibility. It can happen by misguided priorities - like prizing a child's performance over her virtue, or her appearance over her relationship. There are two particular dangers that the "bad parent" conflict highlights.

1. Pretense: The 'bad parent' camp is reacting legitimately against pretense and hypocrisy of others. You can't be a good parent and a hypocrite.
2. Duplicity: Parents can't teach their kids integrity by lying to them, or respect by delighting in the failures of others.  You can't lie to your kids and expect them not to lie to you.

Pretense and duplicity are not the only alternatives. There are such things as honest, humility and virtue. And these are the topic of another post.

Kristina Sauerwein of the Momformation blog on Baby Center celebrated the recent trend in bad parenting with her own confessions there. She revels in the shift toward parents divulging their feelings and actions that don't measure up to social expectations. She seems truly excited that outlets like Salon are facilitating this shift in public discourse. New media, including anonymous confession sites, offer the opportunity for parents to publicly - yet anonymously - spill their garbage.

Where does the 'bad parent' trend come from?
How is it that it is suddenly 'chic' to be a bad parent? Sauerwein argues that at every turn there are PhDs and MDs telling moms what to do, ready to chide them if they don't follow the latest research in child-rearing. She questions whether there is anyone in society more scrutinized that mothers. Amidst all this pressure and scrutiny, parents (and moms in particular) are rebelling - both by doing things that are often considered taboo, and by publishing and celebrating them.

What feelings underlie the 'bad parent' trend?
Even a peripheral reading of Sauerwein or any of the 'bad parents' reveals a revulsion at pretensious parents. In Fortunately its Chic to be a Bad Mom Sauerwein recounts her delight "at the major meltdown and bad behavior of the oh-so-perfect daughter of my holier-than-thou mom friend." She candidly admits, without regret, lying to her kids.

If I'm not mistaken, there are two deeply intertwined sentiments that flow through the 'bad parent' literature. The first is scorn for pretension, despising parents who set themselves up as holier-than-thou. The other is a longing not to have to hide one's own failures, the needs to keep up appearances. In the 'bad parent' trend, parents see an opportunity to dethrone their holier-than-thou friends and come clean on their own failures.

Is everyone allowed to revel in being "bad"?
A helpful way to understand the trend is to examine what would happen if others in society were permitted the same level of self-disclosure. For example, if your mechanic had a blog called "bad mechanic" where he celebrated his foibles, you might find an entry like this: "This morning I was replacing the brake pads on a minivan. Three of them were easy, but I get the fourth back on, so I just left it empty, without a brake pad. They'll never know!" Or consider an entry on the "bad butcher" blog: "Today when I was chopping steaks to put out on display, I sneezed - the biggest sneeze I've ever sneezed. It hit everything! I didn't want to throw it all out, so I packaged up the steaks and put them on the shelf. Considering all the germs in the world, mine aren't likely to hurt anyone."

Perhaps the most helpful example would be to consider the vein of "bad nanny" blogs. Do you see a confession trend on the horizon where nannies and caregivers publicly celebrate being bad? If you had a nanny who regularly didn't change the diapers of your child because she didn't like to deal with a squirming kid, or who delighted when one of your children hit the other because it showed that the one wasn't so perfect after all, how would you feel? Or what if she decided that parking the kids in front of the television for four hours a day was simply essential for her sanity? What if your nanny kept a public blog where she celebrated her freedom to be a "bad nanny." How long would you keep her in your employ?

I can hear some in the 'bad parent' camp objecting that the mechanic and butcher analogies are bad, because the things that parents are confessing don't really make them bad parents. In order to evaluate that claim, there must be a shared understanding of what constitutes good parenting - which deserves a separate article.

It is often said that parents are a child's first teacher, and this is certainly true. But what does it mean? Does it mean simply that they are the ones who communicate information about the world to their children? It cannot mean less than that; but can it mean more?

What do parents make possible?
Parents have the remarkable responsibility and privilege of setting what Andy Crouch calls the "horizons of possibility" for their children. By the way we act, and those activities that we choose and exclude, we make things possible for our children. For example, for a child growing up in the Rockies, whose parents love skiing, it will be possible to learn to ski at a very young age. For another child who lives in the plains, and doesn't have occasion to travel to the mountains, this is not within the horizon of possibility - but learning to herd cattle by age 10 may be.

What can any parent make possible?
One could easily make an extensive list of the impossibilities that parents may face: for their children to be world-travelers, or learn three languages at home, etc. These are possibilities for a very select few. But what can any parent do to set the horizons of possibility for their children?

1. Curiosity. Regardless of where one lives, and what one has (or does not have), parents can cultivate curiosity in their children through persistent, honest, eager questioning. The disposition of curiosity that is foundational to creative expression and scientific inquiry grow in the fertile soil of family life, wherever that family may be rooted.
2. Integrity. Like curiosity, integrity can be within the horizon of possibility for any child, and not merely or the "privileged." In fact, it might well and powerfully be argued that to grow up in a family that treasures, cultivates and celebrates integrity is a far greater privilege than growing up in material wealth.
3. Discipline. Parents, by their expectations and actions, can teach the discipline by which children learn to persevere in a task - whether that task is learning, or making a bed. This quality, nurtured in the home, profoundly influences a child's perseverance in learning, and his attitude toward work.

Asking the right questions
The question for parents then, is not what we do or don't have, but what we choose to make possible for our children. These daily choices define the horizons of possibility for our children. What can you make possible for your children?