Let me tell you a bit about me…
When I was growing up, I was given some of the best education in the world.
I didn’t get what I needed.
So I quit.
My parents made sure I go to the best schools. They made sure I achieve, excel and accelerate. They had a good points — this will allow me to have the best life. It was the worst.
My parents had good intentions, and worked hard to allowed me the best opportunities. They wanted me to fulfill my potential and reach as high as possible as soon as possible. But they never explained why.
That is what was missing.
That was what I had to find by myself (another story for another time).
Fulfilled potential has nothing on fulfilled life.
As a parent now, I don’t want to make the same mistake my parents made.
I don’t want my daughter to blindly follow a rat race through a ladder of accomplishments to reach a summit deemed by society as superior (excuse my mixed-metaphors and cliché).
I don’t want her to trade her “life force”, her passion, her energy and her time, for grades, money, prestige, without thinking it through together, without talking to her about it first and help her decide if that is indeed the thing that will give her a fulfilled life.
Don’t get me wrong. I acknowledge that money and prestige can make life easier and enjoyable. It can even help us be happier (up to a certain point). But the are simply assets, and if while pursuing them we lose more valuable ones — time, drive, motivation, wonder and joy, then the trade is simply a bad deal.
Is it worth it?
Seneca, the great stoic philosopher, once wrote: “It is inevitable that life will be not just very short but very miserable for those who acquire by great toil what they must keep by greater toil. They achieve what they want laboriously; they possess what they have achieved anxiously; and meanwhile they take no account of time that will never more return.”
While I did very well at it, life was miserable for me when I went to school. I now know that it is because their aim was off. I needed life skills before calculus, or a challenge to use it for. I needed an outlet for my own creativity, not a lecture about art history. I was granted high grades, but not a reason to learn what they were given for. Or rather, it was for a goal we know does not make a life great, nor does it necessarily contribute to success, even as defined by money and prestige.
So using education as a means for acquiring money and prestige is, quite frankly, a waste. The ability to make (and keep) friends is proven to contribute much more to our happiness (and health!). This has been known (and ignored) for centuries (just ask Epicurus). And I can understand why — we seem to think that it is something we are all born with or cultivate naturally. But so many of us fail at making the most out of our relationships with others, including romantic partners.
I don’t expect seeing “friendship” classes in schools anytime soon. I can’t imagine resilience and persistence as part of the national curriculum for while. I doubt guiding students in turning their passion from amateurs to professionals is going to come from pedagogy committees. I have no doubt that learning to be happy is something that I can teach my daughter better than anyone else. Because I know her best.
So it’s up to us as parents to pick up the mantle.
Who’s with me?
(You can check out what I’m building for my daughter here and subscribe at the top… It’s going to be an adventure!)
