Privilege, Oppression, and Thoughts on Raising Free People
I am learning so much about myself as a result of our collective decision (Kris, Marley, Sage, and me) to shed the not-it shit, embrace unschooling, and live a location independent life.
In this stage of my life, my studies have shifted from textbooks and test-prep to self-inquiry, personal power, relationship management, and privilege — my own privilege to be precise. There is nothing like the practice of liberation to highlight my participation in oppression.
Privilege and oppression are linked; parenting is up in that mix, too.
If someone would have asked me about my parenting privilege say five years ago, I would have rolled my eyes and served up my shut-that-shit-up face, proper.
I would have wondered how the hell anybody half-way sensible could compare my level of sacrifice and vulnerability in parenting to terms like privilege and oppression. I could not possibly oppress my child; I was growing and grooming them to be safe, sensible, smart, and savvy.
If anything, parenting was oppressive to me because I had to figure out how to provide for them and myself, even when they talked back, acted out, and did all the other frustrating shit that comprise children’s arsenal of expertise.
Today though, as Marley and Sage are 13 and 11, Kris and I have much practice recognizing, facing, and oh-so-slowly shedding our privilege as Marley and Sage’s parents. Peep two solid examples of how we are learning to face (and shed) our oppressive parenting habits:
Not-It Shit #1: Prioritizing our personality over theirs
Kris is a reserved guy. His rough, low voice almost mirrors his personality. You would only hear his loudness on a football (soccer) field, or if we’re somewhere at a dance in Kingston, our voices competing with the bass from nearby speakers. Outside of that, he’s the guy in the room you might notice because of his height, or his salt-and-pepper beard, but not because you hear him. Marley, our firstborn, is the opposite of that.
As a toddler, she routinely introduced herself to people, and when we took her to parks and she ran off and got “lost” in crowds, all we had to do was wait a moment, because inevitably, we’d be able to hear her voice amid the noise of outdoors and other children at play.
When Kris took her to parks, he would constantly try to correct that behavior by reeling her in, reminding her not to be loud, and sometimes making her sit down in efforts to “calm down a bit.” If they were indoors, his actions were even more justifiable, and so it was this never-ending dance to calm Marley down. In his eyes, and mine, her way was inappropriate, socially unacceptable, and so he set out to help her manage those ways.
Eventually, he recognized that his actions as justified oppression of Marley. He saw — mainly because unschooling has been our gateway to liberation in practice — that his privilege (as the adult, the person in power) caused him to see her way as wrong, mainly because it was different from his way.
The shedding of that now looks like recognizing her actions as part of her personality and her right. And it looks like moving away from seeing her as an extension of him, or a reflection of him, and more so as her own person, with her own way of moving about the world. Simply, Marley does not need to make herself quieter, calmer, or smaller for anybody’s comfort, including and especially her parents.
Not-It Shit #2: Prioritizing Age Over Intuition
Most adults I know have come to recognize, and are working to reclaim, the value of their intuition. I am among that lot, and my daily meditative practice includes a deliberate inviting of my intuition to come forward as one of my primary guides.
As children, we are groomed out of our connections to intuition by (mostly) well-meaning adults who see our age as hindrances to good sense and safe choices. We (as children) are too new to know shit, and therefore need to be protected from ourselves and our hella askew internal compasses. The problem with that is we need practice not prevention in owning ourselves.
One of the most solid proof-points of this shows up in the horrors of sexual abuse. Through reports and personal experiences, I know that many children do not report being sexually abused because they have grown accustomed to adults dominion over their (children’s) bodies.
No one asks them if it’s okay to touch them, or offers them ideas on how to deal with what feels wrong for their own bodies. The shit goes deep and it’s one of the many traumas that some of us spend our lives trying to heal from.
Outside of that form of abuse, I can’t count how many times I’ve enforced my ideas on my daughters without their asking for their consideration, much less their consent. It feels like responsible parenting (not oppression) and so it can be hard to recognize, let alone face.
When I make them dress according to my assessment of the temperature outside; I am separating them from the right to feel through their own bodies and make choices for themselves. Or when I “help them” get over moments of social awkwardness by forcing them to talk to other children, I am telling them to ignore their feelings in favor of mine.
When I use use coercion instead of conversation in attempts to “teach” them the things the world might offer them through harsh lessons, I am using fear and privilege, not respect and liberatory relationship-building.
Of course, those examples only scratch the surface. I imagine if you’ve read this far in, you can replace my examples with plenty of your own. And for sure, I’ve got plenty more examples too. I’ve also got a question:
What can you and I do to shift from oppressive habits to liberatory practices in our efforts to raise free people?
I don’t have your answers, but Kris and I have been focused on this work, with the help of our daughters, and other parents who believe in raising free people. I also have a few dedicated spaces for this work; a podcast and a online unschool.
Feel free to engage in either, or both, as you explore your options for more liberation-centered, trust-focused relationships with the young people you love.
