“I’m trying real hard Ringo…”
If you cogitate on that line for a few, I’m sure you will remember
it’s from Pulp Fiction, where Jules, is talking to the restaurant thief.
Well, as I write this on my 48th birthday, I have to admit, I’m trying real hard.
Trying hard to have some perspective; trying real hard to take the
long view…of things. And trying real hard, super extra hard for this atheist,
to have some…gulp…faith.
Faith that my 6 year old isn’t going to let the older kids at the
bus stop, get to him.
Now I know that kids rib each other and taunt and all of that. I
see my 6 year old taunt his younger brother. I know, you don’t have to tell me.
Knowing this, I left the bus stop this morning pissed as hell, at
probably an 8 year old.
My wife has been telling me about the other two boys (the only
other boys I might add) at the bus stop that don’t involve our son in hitting
the wiffle ball.
And due to some scheduling I had to take our little guy to the
stop the past two days. Yesterday I was able to distract him from them by
throwing a Frisbee with him. I tried to do the same this morning but he just
missed hitting a little girl in the head with a hard Frisbee so I had to put
the kibosh on that…and he gravitated toward the wiffle ball action. Skip ahead
and next thing you know the older kid is screaming at my son to “stop!”
This didn’t sit too well. And man I’m trying to be hands off
because I know he has to learn to navigate this stuff on his own: peers, older
kids, taunting, his emotions, all of it. I know that he’ll achieve success, not
with his parents, but with his peers and I CAN’T DO IT FOR HIM. I can’t go to
school and advocate for him and speak up if the older kids tease. I have to
have faith in his abilities and his resilience.
Taking this long view, being hands off and letting things play out
without intervening, is so very difficult, even though my parents were so
laissez faire when it came to parenting (I was the 5th of six kids and quite
frankly, they just didn’t have to time or the energy, along with the wisdom, to
let me handle it). But in the moment it's so impossible to have perspective -
when someone is screaming at your son. One wants to protect and harbor and
shield and...short view things.
Where would that get him?
I’m trying real hard to not do for him and after having read The
Self-Driven Child by Ned Johnson and William
Stixrud I know that learning and navigating and overcoming and learning from
these things are important in his development and his independence and his
sense of...autonomy.
Autonomy is important. A law unto oneself. We all
want it we all need it, we are dysfunctional without it or even the perception
of it.
I know. Trust me.
I know. Trust me.
Now here is what I have since come to learn: somehow this older
kid, who is only 1 grade above my son, is two years older and per the grapevine
as a transplant from New Jersey, can somehow be in the second grade when he’s 8
years old. By contrast I was in the 4th grade when I was 8 (due to my parents
being done with kids after 6 and shipping me off to kindergarten when I was
only 4 - and I wouldn’t turn 5 until I was in the first grade...which puts me
at 8 years old in the 4th grade.
So if my little guy can handle this kid at the bus stop he’ll
grow, learn, and be better prepared for future situations with kids who have
been held back because of New Jersey.
Guess who else is learning and getting his resilience tested?
Hint: he’s got two thumbs.
Here’s the passage from Pulp Fiction:
You read the Bible, Ringo?
Not regularly, no.
Well, there's this passage I got memorized. Ezekiel 25:17.
"The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides...by the inequities of the selfish…and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger...those who attempt to poison and destroy My brothers. And you will know I am the Lord...when I lay My vengeance upon you."
I been sayin' that shit for years, and if you heard it, that meant your ass. I never gave much thought
to what it meant. I just thought it was some coldblooded shit to say to a motherfucker...before I popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this morning made me think twice. See, now I'm thinkin'
maybe it means...you're the evil man, and I'm the righteous man, and Mr. 9-millimeter here,
he's the shepherd...protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or it could mean...
you're the righteous man, and I'm the shepherd, and it's the world that's evil and selfish. Now, I'd like that. But that shit ain't the truth. The truth is, you're the weak...and I'm the tyranny of evil men.
But I'm tryin', Ringo.
I'm tryin' real hard...to be the shepherd.
