Village Schmillage

“Don’t wait for someone to do for your what you can do for yourself”- Just me

                I am one of the few that were raised in a two-parent home.  My home wasn’t void of issues or problems, but my parents made every day feel like a real-life Cosby family (minus the salaries of an Attorney and Doctor).   My dad was a father to my sisters and me.  He was always there, and made sure that we knew he loved us.  My mom was, in my eyes, the epitome of a “Virtuous Woman”.  My parents didn’t come from wealth or great opportunity, but they didn’t allow them to hinder them from being effective parents.  There were days of punishment, beatings, and fussing.  Yet there were plenty days of happiness, laughter, sharing, empowering, and motivating.  Although as a kid, you seem to highlight the former rather than the latter. Loll.  One thing my parents always emphasized was that they loved us, and that we were a family.  Through the good, bad, ugly, and indifferent we were bound together by a family tie that binds.

                My first life and educational lessons were taught at home.  Respect for adults wasn’t an option.  When parent/teacher meetings were held, there better not have been any bad reports.  Up until college, I know I know, a C wasn’t even an option in my home.  A bad report from a teacher wasn’t permitted to be rebutted by me.  If they said I did something then it was taken for gold, and my “ass was grass”.  Although we didn’t have cell phones, my parents had not issue finding something to take away from me should I not perform at an acceptable level.  They had no problem taking my Atari, Nintendo, or not allowing me to watch TV.  There was never really any discussion about clothes, because if they didn’t want me to wear it then they didn’t buy it.  I remember when I started working, and would spend every check on a pair of Jordans.  Realizing the error of my youthful ways, my parents informed me that I would be paying my tuition since I could afford to spend $150+ on sneakers.  There was no such thing as “I don’t have homework”.  Homework would be created for me if I didn’t bring any home.

                There is an African proverb that says, “It takes a village to raise a child”.  The premise is that we all should contribute in leading children in the right path.  So I would be remised if I didn’t attribute a lot of accolades to the “village” that surrounded my parents.  This village included: a loving church, extended family members, intentional teachers, and a host of others.  These individuals served as complimentary additives to the foundation my parents set at home. 

                I am troubled by the fact that many of us as parents are looking for the” village” to be supplemental rather than serve in the appropriate role as complimentary.  When our kids fail in school, we blame the teachers.  When our boys’ pants sag, we blame hip hop.  When our girls focus more on how their booty looks rather than how their brain operates, we blame the women on TV.  When our kids don’t know how to read, we blame it on the Xbox or PS3.  When our children are void of independent thought, we blame it on their dependency on instant information.  We have gotten to the place where we expect the village to lay the foundation for our kids.

                When we decided to lie down and engage in activity that produces a child, we made a nonverbal commitment to doing all in our power to provide a foundation for them.  News Alert: the school system, entertainment world, or sports stars weren’t a part of the activity that created your child.  So why then do we expect them to be something we aren’t willing to be to our own children?

                It is time for us as parents to be parents.  The “village” can’t take the place of what is supposed to happen at home.  Single parent or two-parent homes have a responsibility to teach, empower, and discipline your own child.  When we step up to the plate and be to our kids more than just an older family member/friend, then we will see a difference.  No, they won’t be perfect children.  I’m full of imperfections, and I’ve made many mistakes that my parents wouldn’t be proud of.  The difference is that due to the foundation, I’m not blindly living.  I can’t blame anything on my parents.  Yes, the “village” is willing and able to help, but they cannot and should not take the place of the parent.

Just me