When I was a kid (I started school in 1978), it was common to hear, “You can be anything you want to be.” It was encouraging, and it was the natural outworking of a distinctly 20th century American philosophy. Our grandparents had weathered the Great Depression and won World War II. Our parents had fought communism and for the rights of blacks and women. And now, the world was our oyster. The modern version of the American Dream lay straight ahead, and we could choose our path. We were, in the words of the quintessential ‘70s anthem for kids “Free to Be You and Me.”
The problem is, it was a myth.
More and more I have become convinced that we don’t do kids any favors when we tell them they can be “anything”. The intention is noble – we want them to work hard, to believe in themselves, and to exceed everyone’s expectations. And we want them to persevere. We think of Michael Jordan, who was "cut" from his high school basketball team (he wasn’t, but it makes a good story), and look what happened because he didn’t give up?
But the fact that Jordan stuck it out through a year of junior varsity and went on to be the greatest basketball player ever doesn’t prove that “you can be anything you want to be.” Instead, it’s an argument for the dirty little secret that cuts against the grain of all our wishful thinking: we thrive in our giftedness.
Because remember Jordan the professional baseball player? The one who led the White Sox to a World Series championship, proving that with hard work, an athlete can be good at any sport? Of course you don’t, because Jordan’s baseball career, sandwiched between his stints in the NBA, was not memorable. It wasn’t wrong – he probably had a lot of fun, and he’s Michael Jordan, so he gets to pretty much call the shots on anything he wants – but Jordan belonged in the NBA.
And that’s what identity is all about: Belonging. Like it or not, we are defined and shaped by the crowd around us. There have been self-made men and pioneers and guys like Richard Proenneke, but they are extreme exceptions.
The truth is that for most of us, “be anything” is not liberating, it is crippling. When you can be “anything”, it means that you are, in fact, nothing until you become whatever it is you choose to be. And to a certain set of over-achievers, it even communicates that you ought to be everything. Most of us are not destined to become everything, but a few things. There’s no shame in that. And the ideas of “calling” and “skill set” and “giftedness” are having a renaissance. I say, it’s about time.
What does it mean, then, for your kid to be rich in Identity? Three things, corresponding to the past, the present, and the future:
The first is for them to live in the acknowledgement that they are created beings. As such, they are dependent. And they have no rights. Sound harsh? I don’t mean rights in the American political sense, but rights in the sense of a deserved birthright of destiny. Lots of people live under this myth: I deserve a happy life, to make lots of money, to have the family I want, to live where I want, on and on. Truly grateful people recognize that they’re not independent, and not reaping an endless supply of deserved benefits. It all comes from God. How would it change the way you prayed to God if you started by acknowledging, "I have no rights"? How would it change the way you live?
The second aspect of being rich in identity is intrapersonal awareness. Kids rich in identity know themselves, and this means knowing not only what they are, but knowing and coming to peace with what they aren’t. This is hard when you’re young, because you live under everyone else’s expectations. Discovering who you are and what you’re good at entails a lot of trial and error, but we've pretty much eliminated failure as a component of upbringing. There are dead ends and false starts. It takes a mature kid to say not just, “I don’t like that,” but “I’m not cut out for that.” And certainly, we don’t want to give kids permission to give up too easily. What might not appeal to them at one age might end up being what they love to do and are good at a few years down the road.
But that’s the thing about giftedness: we don’t choose it, we discover it. It is revealed as it develops in us, and yes, lessons and tutors and mentors and exposure can shape that to some degree, but as Muff Potter sings in the musical Tom Sawyer, “A man’s gonna be what he’s born to be.” So somehow, without slotting kids too soon or rigidly tracking them in school, we need to help them discover that they have a design, which has suited them for certain things and limited them from other things (which, amazingly, other people might be perfectly suited for). The KidUnique program that just wrapped up at our church was all about this: What draws your child? What makes them come alive? How can you encourage that? Those are questions some adults have never considered for themselves.
I’ve found that for kids, labels are not particularly helpful and can be debilitating. So adults really get into knowing that they are INTJ and not ESFP, and reading the descriptions of each. Kids just know how they feel. They know if a certain kind of work or style of working or environment or group of people feels right. They know the difference between engaging in an activity that’s boring and one they hope will never end. All we have to do is teach them to pay attention to this and then be reflective and try to put words to it: what was happening that really made you come alive? When else have you felt this way? etc. Then rather than intimating that they be “well-rounded” (i.e., good at everything), we let them lean into those strengths.
To acknowledge that they are created, dependent beings is to acknowledge something God has already done, in the past. To discover the design He’s put in you is an ongoing work, in the now. The final aspect of identity pertains to where they’re going. It is to experience and bring redemption.
Kids rich in identity understand that their purpose in the world isn’t related to short-term things like pleasing adult authority figures. It is future-focused and other-focused, and for that reason, purpose shapes every major life decision. God does things on purpose. Our job is to pick up that ball and run with it. We experience redemption as we live in his forgiveness. We are new creatures. We then bring this gospel of newness to the rest of the world, in the context of the personhood we’ve been given by God. We are the message. A person living as though they’re unredeemed is a poor billboard for redemption.
Cassie Carstens, the South African pastor, trainer, and author of The World Needs a Father will be out in February, says kids need to have a handle on their identities by age 11. Much later than that, and the storms of adolescent life will batter them from one pole to the next. A preteen understanding who they are is incredibly counter-cultural. To make it happen, we have to open the world to them and relax the perimeter of protectiveness much sooner than we are accustomed to, and sooner than many would like. But Carstens says the window of opportunity for kids to apprehend the state of the world and their place in it is really narrow. If we wait until they’re teenagers, chances are they will have already bought into so many of the world’s values ("It’s all about me"..."Safety and comfort are the highest goals"..."School achievement is paramount to life success"..."Money buys happiness") that there’s no bringing them back.
Think of that: Your 11-year-old’s ability to be used by God for the rest of their lives hinges largely on the self-perception they’ve honed up until this point. How are we doing at giving kids opportunities to understand the world, and as a part of that, themselves? If the church of now wants to be an effective church in 30 years, maybe making kids rich in their identities while still young is the best investment we can make.