I wish I had a dollar for every student I talked to about career and college choices that has said something along the line of “….but my dad doesn’t think that’s a good idea” or “my mom told me not to go into that.”
Even though most parents don’t think that their teenaged or college aged children care at all what they think, the truth is, they internalize what you are telling them about career and college choices and often, rule out things that they might be drawn to because of your words. Even your words that may have been mentioned in passing.
As a parent, I know we all have the very best of intentions for our children (I have already made a mental note that when my child gets to this age, I will re-read my own advice, because I’ll most likely be eating my own words), but I think some advice to parents about how to help a child self-explore and discover the right path is needed.
So over the next few weeks, I’ll feature some parent-directed advice about navigating the difficult territory of steering our kids in the right direction when it comes to college and career choices.
First, the best thing to realize is why we give advice and our reasons behind it. They aren’t bad reasons, they may just be grounded in a way that leads us to offer discouragement instead of encouragement.
Consider this excerpt from the Alchemist where the shepherd boy is having a conversation with his father:
“People from all over the world have passed through this village, son,” said his father. “They come in search of new things, but when they leave they are basically the same people they were when they arrived. They climb the mountains to see the castle, and they wind up thinking that the past was better than what they have now. They have blond hair, or dark skin, but basically they’re the same as the people who live right here.”
“But I’d like to see the castles in the towns where they live,” the boy explained.
“Those people, when they see our land, say they would like to live here forever,” his father continued.
“Well, I’d like to see their land, and see how they live,” said his son.
“The people who come here have a lot of money to spend, so they can afford to travel,” his father said. “Amongst us, they only ones who travel are the shepherds.”
“Well, then I’ll be a shepherd!”
His father said no more. The next day, he gave his son a pouch that held three ancient Spanish gold coins.
“I found these one day in the fields. I wanted them to be part of your inheritance. But use them to buy your flock. Take to the fields, and someday you’ll learn that our countryside is the best, and our women are the most beautiful.”
And he gave the boy his blessing. The boy could see in his father’s gaze a desire to be able, himself, to travel the world- a desire that was still alive, despite his father’s having to bury it, over dozens of years, under the burden of struggling for water to drink, food to eat, and the same place to sleep every night of his life.”
Like the shepherd’s father, our advice to our children is often grounded in us wanting to either 1) Live vicariously through them or 2) see them better off than we are. Neither are bad. But unlike the shepherd’s father, our desire to live vicariously through our children, to see them better off than we are, often comes in the form of discouragement, instead of 3 gold coins with a blessing to pursue their desires.
So before you open your mouth with an opinion about what might be best the best path for your child, knowing full well the you just want to see them “better off”, consider if you’re offering gold or not.
