By: Lynn Fitz-Hugh & Sara Alice Grendon
My
daughter, age 16, is a dyed-in-the-wool Quaker.
Other Quaker parents are often very curious how I pulled this off. To me one of the most significant things is
that from her birth, I felt I was steward of a spiritual being, a soul sent
into my care and nurture.
I noticed early on her own expressions of
spirituality, and unlike non-religious parents who might ignore or even
discourage these expressions, I encouraged and nurtured them. My daughter had a
great love of nature and expressed a sense of awe that tied what she
encountered to a sense of majesty and the mystical. I affirmed this. I was influenced by the writings of Barry and
Joyce Visnell who say that our image of An All Powerful and hopefully Loving
God is shaped by our early experience of our own parents as all powerful. This makes much more important how we as
parents use power and model just, fair, compassionate and truthful behavior.
I am a
leader among West Coast high school Friends, and soon to be part of a lovely
team of powerful young Quakers, clerking FGC’s high school program. You don’t
get this way by accident. There are choices my mother made as a Quaker parent
which led to my growing into my Quaker-ness, and I suspect if one asked my
weighty Young f/Friends how they got that way, we’d have similar
experiences. If we really wish to see
the Religious Society of Friends continue, Quaker parents must raise Quaker
children, and this does not have to mean shoving your beliefs down your kid’s
throat.
It seems
Quaker parents rarely tell their children what to believe. However, they often
don’t give them the spiritual framework to figure it out themselves, which is
oh so necessary for a child exploring their own spiritual life. What I find
most horrifying is when we don’t acknowledge our kids as having spiritual
thought. As if somehow being a child means they can’t feel the Spirit. Doesn’t
that contradict the idea of, “that of God in everyone”?
“Mommy, what
is God?” I asked from the 3-year-old booster-seat.
“I can’t
tell you,” my mother said. Unsatisfied with this frustrating answer I asked,
“Why not?”
“I could
tell you what I think God is, but you’re going to have to form your own
definition,” she told me, meeting my eyes thru the baby mirror. I know that I proceeded to ask my mom for her
definition of God, but I couldn’t tell you what she said next, because that
isn’t the significance of this memory. This conversation from the back seat on
a spring day when I was 3 is still so memorable because this interaction set a
precedent for the rest of my life. I knew from that point onward, that my
mother would never tell me what to believe.
When Sara was about 3 or 4 we went to the
Olympic Peninsula and camped overnight on a bluff looking out at the rock
stacks jutting up in the ocean. We woke
at low tide and walked through the fog out to the base of the now exposed
stacks. The ocean had retreated to
reveal starfish, barnacles, and small fish in tide pools swimming to the music
of the ocean! Sara was enchanted!
A number of years later when 7 she announced
to me: “I know what God looks like.”
Some parents would have rushed in with logic
about how no one can know what God looks like.
I held my breath and calmly said:
“What does God look like?”
She then described to me the mystical
experience she had on the Peninsula
that morning and said solemnly “that’s what God looks like.” I could only agree and be amazed at her
wisdom of recognizing the Presence of the Creator when 3 years old.
I never set out to teach Sara the
testimonies. I tried to live them and
this made them values that were real to her.
Each of us describes below our memories of how some of these things were
communicated/learned:
Social
Justice:
When Sara was three, WTO took place in our
town. I decided I would take Sara to the
demonstration but leave if it got violent or tear gas was released (this was
before all that began.) How to explain
to a three year old what was happening?
She knew who our President was, and most children’s books had Kings as
rulers, so I explained to her that there was an important meeting happening in
Seattle where Presidents and Kings of other countries were coming together to
decide how things like water and food would be made available to people all
over the world, and some of the things they wanted to do would make it hard for
people to have clean water or enough food.
Sara said, “We should tell them
to share with everyone.” I told her that
the people we were going to walk with would carry signs to make that message to
the Kings and Presidents. When the tear
gas started a mile ahead of us I quickly pulled us out of the march and turned
around to go home telling her simply “we need to go home now.” She cried saying “No mommy, I want to see the
Kings first. We have to tell them.”
I think children naturally want to do what
is right for all and if you don’t confuse them by doing otherwise they stay
with that belief. Throughout Sara’s life
I explained why we bought certain foods or products and not others and what the
labor conditions of the workers or the implications for other people were.
Politics were constantly discussed at our dinner table.
I am an
Activist. Most 16 years olds will not own up to that yet. One of my frustrations with our faith is that
not all Quakers are Activists, but I believe the words should be synonymous.
When social justice is a testimony of our faith and we believe in peace,
equality, integrity, and stewardship why would we not stand up for these? I was taught to. Partly out of being born
with a rebellious spirit, but largely due to my mom’s example. I still remember WTO protest and many other
protests. I was taught that if you want justice in this world you must seek it
through non-violent revolution and that it doesn’t get done any other way.
Peace:
My
own parents, also Quakers, would not let my sister and me have toy guns or even
water pistols growing up. I resented the
water pistols part so when Sara was little I got her a plastic fish that
squirted water. I did however always
tell her that it was wrong to kill under any circumstances because there was
that of God in everyone and that one should not hit or be violent to others either.
I also told her that her classmates would believe otherwise because of how they
were raised by their parents and prepared her for the idea that beliefs about
this differ widely in our society. She never entertained the idea that violence
was a way to solve things. I acknowledge
readily to parents of boys that I think this is much more challenging when
raising a boy because of the messages in our culture to boys about violence.
The peace
testimony is one I’ve watched parents nail bite over, and is perhaps the
hardest to teach in a society that worships violence. In the simple logic of my
toddler’s mind it wouldn’t make sense to hit another kid in the face for a toy,
because then they would hit me, and who wants to get hit in the face? But it’s
a little more complex than that; our culture is so saturated in violence that
it’s hard to not expose our kids, but that’s the key: exposure. I was not
allowed to watch certain TV shows, or movies rated higher due to “violent
themes.” I won’t lie: I didn’t like it. When all your other friends with non-religious,
non-pacifist, and very American parents get to watch something and you don’t,
it’s not fun. But it was those kids that hit each other for building blocks and
used violent language. I’ve grown to
appreciate my mother’s sensibilities.
Equality:
I was not
allowed to watch Disney as a kid. This was the hardest media sensor of all
because little girls love princesses, all my friends loved princesses, and
wanted to be one. Of course I eventually saw some of the Disney Princess movies
at other little girls’ houses, but that didn’t stop my mom’s intention from
living on. She would tell me;
“Disney
is sexist and racist; all those princesses are always rescued by men, why do
they need men to save them?” I never had
an answer for that question. I look back now on my childhood and I frequently
tell folks that my mother’s greatest feat as a parent was not allowing me
Disney. Because I didn’t watch Disney I didn’t learn from the crows in Dumbo,
or the warthog in the Lion king that, people who talk in Ebonics or with a
Latin American accent are dumb. I didn’t
learn from the shading differences in lion’s fur that “bad guys” are darker
than the other lions. In fact I didn’t learn the concept of “bad guys.”
Simultaneously hearing in Children’s meeting that God is in all of us, along
with less exposure to stereotyping, I learned equality.
I
did not want Sara to learn good/bad dichotomies or stereotypes about gender and
race , but all her friends could watch Disney, and so this was frustrating to
her. I would explain to her what a
stereotype was and that these movies had them.
This was uninteresting and unsatisfying to her and I did not think I was
getting anywhere, till one day when she was four she was looking at a Disney T
shirt of princesses in a store (a previously much coveted item) and she said to
me: “I don’t want this anymore.” I asked why and she explained: “There is no princess for Layla” (an African
American friend in her preschool). I
knew at that moment that she understood.
Integrity:
I
told Sara it was important to tell the truth and I always told her the
truth. Sometimes I would tell her a
subject was too adult and I would not talk about it, but even when I made her
promises I would not make them unless I knew I could follow through on them. I also made clear to her that I expected her
to tell the truth and that it was important to me that she not lie. I realized when she was small that if she did
something wrong and I punished her when she told the truth, this would teach
her to lie. So if I asked her something
like “How did this get here? Who spilled
this?” or “Who broke this?” and she told me the truth I did not punish
her. I just told her what I wished she
had done or expressed my disappointment or other feelings about it. I also sometimes expressed appreciation that
she was telling me the truth.
As she got older she would sometimes
initiate discussions with me about situations with friends where she was
struggling to figure out how to act with integrity. The sincerity with which she examined these
things always impressed me, and I wished some adults I knew would give as much
thought to their integrity!
Integrity
is my favorite testimony; it’s also the hardest to live by 100% of the time,
which is why it is my favorite. Every kid will experiment with lying; when I
did my mom didn’t get mad, just disappointed. That disappointment was enough to
make it feel icky, and it remained so. But integrity is more than simply
honesty.
This
testimony I learned alongside equality, and in my world they are inseparable. I
learned Integrity to myself as female, being spared images of Barbie’s
“basketball boobs,” and Disney princesses’ helpless wails. Like violence, it’s
about what you expose your kids to.
As a child I played a game with
which I still do. When I didn’t like my classmates I’d look for their Light, in
trait that wasn’t that awful, or the way they drew with crayons. Now I look for
what I can relate too, even if it’s only their teenage insecurity. This is how
I learned to treat even the kids I didn’t like with integrity.
Simplicity:
We all
know the United States is a hot bed of consumerism. The encouragement to want, want, want, and
buy, buy, buy, is a trap easy for children to fall into, since advertising is
catered toward them. In part I learned simplicity because growing up with a
single mom we never had a ton of money, so when I’d ask for luxury grocery
items I was denied. But she would say to
me with my bottle of Nutella in hand. “Do you need that?” And I couldn’t make a
case for why these things were a necessity, so this logic forced me to put them
down.
From my
Aunt Cindy (who is not Quaker) I learned that gifts aren’t always material.
Every year she takes me to a show for my birthday, and it’s the best gift she
could give me. My mother lives simply
(as Americans go) and I learned by example, but never felt deprived or empty,
only fulfilled by life.
Like
most children Sara wanted toys her classmates had or things she saw advertised
on TV. We had a LOT of dialogues about
how and why I was not going to buy most of these items. I tried to tell her that she had enough and
did not need toys that do things for you.. Everyone and their uncle was giving
Sara stuffed toys, and when there were 30, I put my foot down! I told her she had too many to play with and
they needed to be loved by someone. Then
I said that from now on if she got another one she would decide whether to keep
it and give up one she already had or to just give it away. She kept to this and as a result we could see
some parts of her bed!
If I had to say one thing to Quaker parents
it would be that Quaker parenting requires a lot of hard stands, swimming
against the tide of popular society, needing to explain a lot of things and
having the strength of your convictions, but it also unites with that which is
innate in all humans—a sense of fairness and love and wanting good for
all. The results are pretty stunning.
Sara now goes by Alice. Both belong to
Eastside Friends Meeting near Seattle, WA.
Lynn is a therapist and Climate Activist. Sara Alice has turned 18 since this was written and attending Hampshire College and Mt. Toby Meeting and is a climate activist in her own right.
