Young at heart

Devi Asmarani ,  The Jakarta Post - WEEKENDER   |  Wed, 02/25/2009 11:32 AM  |  Living & Learning

Not having a child after four years of marriage sometimes proves a bit troublesome socially, mostly when having to deal with intrusive questions (“Why haven’t you had a kid yet?”) or the occasional pitying look.

Other than being an annoyance, it doesn’t bother me as much as it used to, especially considering that this society believes that children are an essential part of a “complete” marriage.

The truth is that both hubby and I feel that we are enjoying the best time of our lives right now. If it is hard for people to understand that, then there is probably no point in trying to explain it to them.

I love kids, though. I like watching and interacting with them and – even for a brief moment – being a part of their individual bubbles.

When free from early corrupting influences or traumas, kids are humans in their most natural state, before they develop destructive habits and neuroses, and before they let their ego take a front seat.

Of course, it does not take very long for children acquire the above, but they are essentially still “works in progress”, which makes them all the more precious.

Between us, my husband and I have 14 nieces and nephews, so we get to play the cool aunt and uncle every few weekends or on holidays. Sometimes we also spend time with friends and their kids.

Over the years, I have seen some of them transformed from tottering toddlers with tiny fingers and big eyes, to a band of giggling tweens, to moody, fast-talking teens with inscrutable lingo and perplexing hairdos.

I love and care for them deeply – although I may not say it enough – and it worries me sometimes to imagine them growing up in a world that looks a lot more complicated than the one I grew up in.

Sometimes I worry about them more than their parents do. A few years ago, when I was told that a niece wanted to go into modeling, I immediately launched into a tirade to her parents about the superficiality and danger of putting children in the entertainment and fashion industry.

To my then 9-year old niece, I said, “Why would you want to be a mere model when you can be so much more than that?”

I might have had a point, but now I’m ashamed for being so judgmental.

Recently I found out that another niece had stopped going to her classes after a few months in university because she did not like her business major, which was essentially picked for her by the grown-ups around her.

I called her and frantically drilled her about what she wanted. I gave her a lengthy lecture about how the real world is a tough place, how lucky she is to be able to afford higher education, and how hard it is already for an educated woman to be valued equally in the workplace, much less one that does not have a college degree.

She was reluctant to answer me when I asked her what she wanted to do in life, what she wanted to study and how she saw herself five to 10 years from now. Her seeming act of defiance vexed me at first.

Then I understood her silence and her muffled replies: She was crying. The poor girl was confused. She is barely 17, younger than her peers. It reminded me of when she was in elementary school and was accelerated by two grades (again, a move decided by the grown-ups) because she was bright, only to find herself unable to cope with the stress during exam time.

It is not easy being a child when the world around you keeps spinning, sending different messages all the time. As a shy kid I found escape in reading and writing, as my niece does in her Japanese manga and online games. In high school, I went into dancing and theater and spent more time rehearsing and performing than studying, which took a toll on my grades.

I immersed myself in the party scene in the first two years of college, experimenting with various drugs and generally living life to the fullest with my newfound freedom.

But once I had explored all there was to partying, I returned to my books and studies with so much more passion and hunger to learn – same as I had growing up – before graduating with honors.

People bloom in different ways and at different speeds. Sometimes it takes getting lost for a while before the path is illuminated.

I reminded myself that the adult tendency to push children into the direction they feel is right often creates its own problems. So the next time I had a chance to meet my niece, I softened my stance. We had a constructive discussion, and so much better with her younger sisters present. I hope it strengthened her resolve and helped lift her cloud of confusion.

One thing about being surrounded by kids that are not your own is that you have a little distance from parenthood, which can allow you a broader and more objective perspective on what can be a tricky relationship.

It also makes me realize that parenting must be the hardest job there is in the world.

But I must admit some people are doing a lousy job at it. I have seen those who sleepwalk through parenting. To them, raising children is a list of tasks to execute, and communicating to their children takes the form of a series of commands and instructions.

On the other hand, there are those who live vicariously through their children, projecting their ambitions and placing unrealistic expectations on them, instead of letting them grow into their own persons.

In these parents there is a similarity: They take their children for granted. They see them either as a mouth to feed or a machine for accomplishment, instead of a young person with the same need for love and acceptance as their adult counterparts.

Not everyone is a parent, but everyone has been a child.

Perhaps we could try to recall our younger selves once in a while to help us connect to the children around us.

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