Are our children coping with raising their fathers? I’m becoming less convinced that it’ll happen the other way, though I believe it should. Children (read teenagers) are, earlier and earlier, becoming the CEOs of their lives. At best, we fathers can only hope to be good (non-executive) chairmen? Well, maybe not.
Our kids have so many things (I nearly said advantages) that we didn’t have growing up, such as technology in abundance, at their fingertips 24/7 (there’s an app for everything, and I could have asked ChatGPT to write this column). They have online friends (and enemies) they’ve never met (if such a thing is still capable of a singular, acceptable definition).
They can fall in love in the ether, but also hate. When they get sad or scared, however, they’re most often alone, here on Earth, whether it's by themselves in a room (with the door closed) or in a crowded mall.
The world may be their oyster, but it’s everybody’s world. You can be whoever you pretend to be nowadays, instantly, and under whatever mask you wish to take a selfie in — but there's too much out there to aspire to, too much at the limits, not enough ordinary.
The new world dictates that you can’t live in the middle of the bell curve, that you must get noticed, now. We’re becoming a bunch of wannabes, chasing “influencers” (I can’t stand them), without any context, just layers of make-believe and dress-up and labels and crowd identity.
These readily available and easily adoptable identities are shallow once you’ve tried them on — shallow, and anything but satisfying, easy come easy go, lies. Unearned status destroys the self-confidence it so desperately seeks to fulfil. It’s confusing if you’re a kid, right?
Our children are anxious. We are anxious. You have to have buried your head in the sand not to be (seems a good option sometimes). Ignorance is bliss, but you’re not allowed to be. So what if you can find the answer to everything on Google — what do you know?
What do we owe you, what can we give you? Quite a lot, as it turns out, so put your cellphone away and listen up
We grown-ups know stuff because we grew up. We didn’t arrive like this. We lived in closed ecosystems compared with today's open architecture, all access, blah, blah, blah. We learnt customs and values within our isolated (if not insulated) communities that prepared us, before being fascinated by what glimpses we had of other worlds we read or heard about, and occasionally visited.
We had foundations (whether right or wrong) we could compare with new contexts. We could filter. Nothing was instant, except puddings, and everything had to be earned, found out and explored. But we had time.
Every generation will say this, I have no doubt, but we, your fathers, had the best of times. Not easy, but enjoyably hard — adventurous, unpredictable, not for sissies, full of mistakes ... We were allowed to make mistakes then — they were seen as nothing more than mini achievements, learning curves. We want that for you, too. Don’t let your parents kid you that they had it tough, they had it fun (OK, with the benefit of hindsight).
So what do we owe you, what can we give you? Quite a lot, as it turns out, so put your cellphone away and listen up.
We know that it's OK to be yourself. We’ve tried being all sorts of other people that we aren’t, and it didn't make us happy — but walking towards and embracing the “ourselves” that we found, did. There’s no rush, but the sooner you start that journey, the sooner you’ll find peace. We know that we’re comprised of bundles of stuff — physically, mentally, psychologically and otherwise — and that we can’t just pick the good stuff. We’re package deals. Don’t let the shiny bits that you see in others mislead you — they’re just surface sparkles.
Life is about long stories and short queues. Go in search of stories, we’ll back you. Sometimes take us along, as company, not just to pay for the tickets. Over the years we’ve worked out how to get closer to the front of the queue — come, we’ll show you.
For our part, we have to stand behind you, not in front of you. As with you, we have to listen. But we’ll teach you how to get more from less. We’ve seen a few movies, walked a few trails, missed lots of potholes.
We’ll give you better starting points, not easier results. We’ll show you that free time is only valuable if you’re busy. We’ll show you that there are other life currencies more valuable than money, booze and fast cars (not that you shouldn’t have your share of that). You’ll see in us the joy we get from giving, the return on empathy, and the value of enduring friendships.
Beyond this, though, there’s something that you get free from Mom and Dad: unconditional love — it's in our DNA.
We’ll spur you on when you’re winning and catch you when you fall. We can’t help it, it comes naturally. It’s more difficult for us to discipline you than to spoil you, but it's worth it, you’ll see.
We love you guys — give us a break already.
Dad ❤️
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