Was It Worth It?
Gregory K. Moffatt, Ph.D.
As a college student, I listened to my professors talk about the application of psychological principles in raising children and I soaked up the information. One day I wanted to be the expert, too. But as I got to know my professors better, I learned that many of them had serious troubles with their children - drug issues, legal problems, and so forth. It made me wonder if they really knew what they were talking about.
When I started work at Point University in 1985, I quickly noticed that every one of my colleagues had impressive children. They were the kind of kids that I would have been proud to say were my own.
These young children were smart, kind, and empathetic. Over the years as I watched these children grow up, not one of them ended up in jail, on drugs, or with any serious trouble that I knew about.
I'm not supposing these were perfect children - I know they weren't. But the fact that not one of my colleagues had a "problem kid," tells me my friends must have been doing something right. It made me wonder what these parents knew that my professors, with all their expertise, seemed to miss.
I concluded that the difference was the character of the parent. My teachers were good men and women, but their work was their lives. They invested little at home and knowing lots of theory doesn't replace the investment of being an involved parent. Each of my colleagues, as best I could tell, looked at their jobs as parents as one of life's highest callings. Kids came first.
This wasn't an egocentric or indulgent form of helicopter parenting, but instead it was focus in the way that a doctor puts patients first or the way a good teacher puts students first. Being a good parent, I have learned, was for these men and women a ministry - almost a religion - and because they took their duties seriously, they were willing to make great sacrifices for their children.
For example, almost all of my workmates made significant financial sacrifices so that a spouse could be a stay-home mom or dad. They drove older cars, went on modest vacations, and set aside their own potentially expensive and time-consuming hobbies so that they could spend more time with their children.
Some of my colleagues moved in order to get their children into school settings that were more helpful for their children and many of them spent a fortune on private education to prepare their children for college, career, and life. One of my colleagues even quit a job he loved in order to take a job where he could spend more time with his family at a time when they needed it.
They taught their children important lessons about money, time, religion, friendship, love, heartache, and even death. They looked for ways to be together, rather than looking for ways to get their children "out of their hair" as I hear some parents say.
They were also willing to do very hard things, like saying "no." They resisted the urge to cater to every whim and they endured anger from their at times when getting their way was not in their best interest.
That was a very long time ago. I know research methodology and I realize that my unscientific study here is really just anecdotal information. I also realize that these dozen or so colleagues represent a very small sample.
But now that all these children are grown, what kind of adults have they become? Most of them are married, but not all. A few have divorced, but far fewer than the 50% divorce rate of the country. All of them are gainfully employed, generally happy with life, and getting along well in their respective environments. Most importantly, as far as I know, they all are still close to their parents.
I understand that good parents can have kids that make bad choices. But what these past three decades have shown me as I've watched the lives of good parents around me is that book knowledge is not the whole battle. These parents made mistakes. But their mistakes were insignificant compared to the investment they made over the many years of childhood.
So was all that sacrifice and all those hours my friends invested in their children worth it? Was it worth the financial sacrifice, the time spent at all those teacher conferences and frustrating nights over homework assignments? Was it worth it to have those hard conversations when a son stubbornly refused to be respectful or when a daughter didn't see why a blouse or skirt was immodest?
I think so.