May 20, 2008

Exclusive: A Sense of Urgency

Bob Parks

When you get older, you find yourself looking with disdain upon the generation that follows. It's only natural - that is, unless you're one of those who buy into the George Benson or Whitney Houston versions of "The Greatest Love of All" and all that "the children are our future" fluff. When you grow up being told how wonderful you are, and have politicians declare their actions are solely for you, it's no wonder they grow up believing they are entitled to everything we have to offer.

I'm not buying it.

I "kicked" my son out tonight.

He's almost 20, working part time, blew an opportunity to attend one of the most prestigious colleges in the country in his chosen field due to a lack of motivated follow-up, and the last straw here was breaking one of the few rules we gave him - a rule that was also a violation of the law.

What got me (when it came to the college thing) was his excuse that all of his friends' parents took care of everything for them. And just how long should this go on? Until he's 40 and still living at home?

While having the last confrontation / talk with him, I began reliving my past. I was my father. My son was I; at the time, unable to hold down a job, as there were none available that met my lofty salary requirements. But I always had that golden cushion. I could always go home.

There was no sense of urgency.

As independent adults, we all have it. We know what'll happen if we don't work, thus we're always thinking about our utilities and phone bills and gasoline and rent or mortgage. We have no cushion, for the most part. We know what'll happen if we don't get our act together, so we work that much harder to keep it so. Our older children, while maybe being asked to contribute in some principled, but monetarily insignificant way, believe they can miss a payment every once in awhile because we'd never throw them out.

In my case, I got a great job when I was 18 and moved out on my own. It was scary for around 20 minutes. However, a few short years later, life fell apart. I moved back home and soon after got kicked out for good. I had no choice but follow up on an earlier option and joined the Navy.

Life became urgent. When forced, I became a man.

My father knew if he didn't force me to grow up, I might still be living in my small room in his house. But by giving me two days, for the first time in my life, I truly experienced that sense of urgency. I've had it ever since.

By fawning over our children and allowing them to be used as political wedges, we've created a generation of kids who lack the sense of urgency. They can disrespect us, their teachers, police, anyone, because they know they'll always be someone who'll understand and thus, advocate for them.

Personally, this is a difficult time.

Like when my father died, it didn't really sink in until a week or so later. Kicking my oldest out of the nest won't probably become reality until some unexpected moment in the near future. It's probably a testosterone thing. I'd like to think my dad went through the same.

But gaining that sense of urgency was a necessary event. It's one I'll probably have to instill two more times. It won't get any easier, but at the same time, I would hope I've taken one punk off the street and deposited a man in his place.

His life right now is hopefully one big sense of urgency. Welcome him to our world.