Bright, Fragile Dreams

If you read my post from last week it was about me learning how to dream for myself again. It was not something I was conscious that I wasn’t doing but apparently I was, at least from my daughter’s viewpoint and in this respect, she was exactly right. It got me to thinking about a post I made earlier this year about dreaming, except it was about me allowing her to dream when I took her to her first college to visit, which turned out to be a flop. Because it was an absolute no for her, it allowed her to see what she did not want in a school, which in turn helped her see what she did want in a college, much to my dismay and approval, which leads to this very lengthy intro to this week’s blog: When we as parents needs to step back and not allow our insecurities influence our children’s dreams. So instead of learning something from my daughter this week, let’s learn something I have learned from watching parents of teens.

I see this all the time. Not just as a parent but especially as a teacher of seniors. Many times when I ask my students what they want to do after they graduate, they rattle off something about what their parents want them to do. When I push a bit further and ask what they want to do, they get this quizzical look on their face as if I have spoken Martian to them. When did we stop allowing our children to dream? What age did we stop allowing them to be astronauts or firefighters? When did we begin telling them it was too expensive to travel? When did we begin to trounce on the beginnings of their big ideas? I think it might be when we as parents thought we might have to fund those so-called dreams, but let’s be honest here. How many of us truly do fund our children’s educations? I know there are some of you out there, who I applaud. I can tell you that I despite working three jobs, I am not one of them. I am trying my best to outfit my daughter with what she needs for college: a decent car, funds to pay for her insurance and basic bills while in college, help with scholarships to help pay for scholarships, and a work ethic that will help her get through college, but shelling out the thousands of dollars it will take to pay for the 4-6 years it will require for her to acquire her degree, no, I am unable to do that.

So if we aren’t actually paying for our child’s education then what say do we have in their futures? Why do we feel as if we have a vested interest in these very significant years of their lives? Do you think it’s because we’re afraid they will fail? Do you think it’s partly because we think if they do not succeed it’s our fault? Is it a strike against us, or maybe it’s something more? Perhaps it’s us projecting our own insecurities onto our children. Maybe we couldn’t do it, so we automatically assume our kids can’t either. I took the opposite approach to this. I always had big dreams, always. Let me tell you a story: As a child, I had the dream to be a marine biologist. I grew up learning about anything under the ocean from a famous marine researcher by the name of Jacques Cousteau. When I got to be a senior in high school, I had every intention to go to college majoring in marine biology, however that meant I had to go out of state. I lived in George at the time so it just meant going to the neighboring state of Florida. No big deal, right? I was always an independent young woman but the idea of leaving home and moving away on my own was pretty scary and then when my mother didn’t support my dream and said that I should do what came easily to me, which at the time was journalism at the local community college and I could live at home, I took the easier route and never pursued my oceanic dream I had since the young age of nine. I allowed her reasonable words to assuage my fears and decide my fate. Looking back, if she had supported my dream to go to Florida and helped me reach my goal, my life would look much different, not better but different. I share this story not to for you to pity me. I like the life I have now but to demonstrate how one small choice could have made a huge difference. My mother was my rock, my cheerleader, the one person I could count on, so when she didn’t support my dream I didn’t know what to do. Yes, I was eighteen-years-old, but believe me, that certainly did not mean I had it all figured out. And neither does your teen. They need your support. Not your advice but your support. I have chosen to allow my daughter to choose her path, even if many people would have given her different advice. Told her take a more affordable route. It’s her decision, one that she has to make, one that she has to live with. So as her mother, I will support her and not tag on my dream to her star but allow her star to shine.

Think about that. What are you doing to your child’s dream? Are you limiting them due to your own fears or are you willing to support them even if it scares you too? Part of letting go is fear of the unknown but if I had the support I needed back then I could have pursued a life-long dream. I still cherish that dream despite it being out of reach now. Don’t let your children have regrets. Dreams are fragile creations that fear is notorious for crushing before they have an opportunity to find a chance to shine. Please let your child’s dreams shine brightly before fear tarnishes them to that dull sheen of reality.