From time to time I get e-mails from a website called "Raising Small Souls". It's a collection of articles by a woman named Ellen Braun. I don't agree with everything on her site, but this article intrigued me.
At issue: Can (and should) a parent be their child's friend? You can read the whole article here.
What I appreciate about the website is that she posts reader comments, supportive and negative, after each article, and the comments that followed this one were pretty interesting.
Braun writes: "What happens to the boundaries that are supposed to exist between parents and their children? We expect our children to be disciplined and learn to respect and honor us, yet we dub them buddies and pals. ...When we call our kids buddies, we are in effect inviting them into a world that lacks restrictions and formality. We cannot possibly expect them to talk and act respectfully toward us unless we have clearly established that there are boundaries between us and them."
Many readers keyed in on the use of the words "buddy" and "pal" and rightly pointed out that merely using one of those words doesn't create parity between parents and their children. But, the heart of Braun's argument holds true: kids cannot, in fact, be their parent's friend, attaining the same status as other adult friends. (Or can they?) And therefore, they should not be a parent's friend. (Or should they?)
This gets to be an issue in ministry, where we are eager to break down walls of unfamiliarity. In the spirit of being warm and welcoming, we are eager to position ourselves as trustworthy, fun, helpful, supportive - everything you'd want in a friend. Relationships are the means by which we do ministry. We come alongside kids, guide them, lead them, counsel them, hurt with them, encourage them.
Does this make us their friends?
Yes and no. Successful ministries to youth and children have long moved past an authoritarian model in favor of a relational one, in which kids are urged and persuaded to follow Christ, but not coerced into it. Just this weekend we talked in class about the difference between committing yourself to Christ because you felt you should vs. committing because you really wanted to. I have a feeling we wouldn't get very far with kids if the first thing we did when they walked in the door was hit them with all of the rules and continually emphasize why the relationship dynamic between them and us was forever unbalanced in our favor.
So at the least, we must be friendly, even if we don't assume the role of friend. But, boundaries exist. Kids will misbehave. They'll speak inappropriately. They'll react immaturely. We're not operating in a "Lord of the Flies" environment; there need to be rules. And ultimately, adults need to enforce them.
The key, then, is how to discipline (and by this I mean to correct, reprimand, restitute, impose consequences - the whole ball of wax) in a way that doesn't shift what has been a collegial, nurturing relationship to one where power defines roles.
The root of authority lies in a concept called "legitimacy," which is the psychological belief that the person in authority over me has the right to govern me. Absent legitimacy, a government crumbles. Many times, cases of teenage rebellion or estrangement are in fact a rejection of the parent's legitimacy. ("You're such a hypocrite! You have no right to tell me what to do anymore!") To the extent that a parent - or any authority figure - can cultivate friendly relations with a child and still maintain his or her legitimacy in that child's eyes, that parent has not risked or lost anything.
But the key is, legitimacy is something that rests in the mind of the child. We can assert it, but we can't demand it. When we want to bolster our authority, we may speak louder, we may punish more severely, we may insist on our right to make rules - and all of this might very well convince us that we're rightfully in charge. But we're not the ones who need convincing! Instead, we should focus on the child, recognizing that for each child the line between authority figure and "buddy" or friend lies in a different place.
So how do we establish legitimacy and maintain it? I would offer the following:
This gets to be an issue in ministry, where we are eager to break down walls of unfamiliarity. In the spirit of being warm and welcoming, we are eager to position ourselves as trustworthy, fun, helpful, supportive - everything you'd want in a friend. Relationships are the means by which we do ministry. We come alongside kids, guide them, lead them, counsel them, hurt with them, encourage them.
Does this make us their friends?
Yes and no. Successful ministries to youth and children have long moved past an authoritarian model in favor of a relational one, in which kids are urged and persuaded to follow Christ, but not coerced into it. Just this weekend we talked in class about the difference between committing yourself to Christ because you felt you should vs. committing because you really wanted to. I have a feeling we wouldn't get very far with kids if the first thing we did when they walked in the door was hit them with all of the rules and continually emphasize why the relationship dynamic between them and us was forever unbalanced in our favor.
So at the least, we must be friendly, even if we don't assume the role of friend. But, boundaries exist. Kids will misbehave. They'll speak inappropriately. They'll react immaturely. We're not operating in a "Lord of the Flies" environment; there need to be rules. And ultimately, adults need to enforce them.
The key, then, is how to discipline (and by this I mean to correct, reprimand, restitute, impose consequences - the whole ball of wax) in a way that doesn't shift what has been a collegial, nurturing relationship to one where power defines roles.
The root of authority lies in a concept called "legitimacy," which is the psychological belief that the person in authority over me has the right to govern me. Absent legitimacy, a government crumbles. Many times, cases of teenage rebellion or estrangement are in fact a rejection of the parent's legitimacy. ("You're such a hypocrite! You have no right to tell me what to do anymore!") To the extent that a parent - or any authority figure - can cultivate friendly relations with a child and still maintain his or her legitimacy in that child's eyes, that parent has not risked or lost anything.
But the key is, legitimacy is something that rests in the mind of the child. We can assert it, but we can't demand it. When we want to bolster our authority, we may speak louder, we may punish more severely, we may insist on our right to make rules - and all of this might very well convince us that we're rightfully in charge. But we're not the ones who need convincing! Instead, we should focus on the child, recognizing that for each child the line between authority figure and "buddy" or friend lies in a different place.
So how do we establish legitimacy and maintain it? I would offer the following:
- Mean the words we say.
- Listen sincerely and allow kids to express disagreement.
- Find out who else your child respects as an authority figure and probe why? Is it a teacher, principal, coach - what do they do to maintain the balance between helpful and in-charge?
- Admit mistakes and ask for forgiveness.
- Never punish (or "consequence" if you prefer) out of anger, but only out of a desire to teach a better behavior. "Let me show you a better way to do that" needs to become a frequently-used phrase in our arsenal.
- Examine and reexamine our motives. Why are we making the rules we do? Is the intent clear to the child? Is there another way we could make them (choose one: safe, responsible, healthy, respectful) than by what we're asking them to do? Would we want to comply with what we're asking?
