"Allison, do you want to be a ballerina when you grow up?" a man asked. "Please, Daddy," a tiny voice replied. "I'm only three. I'm not planning to make any career decisions until I'm six."
I don't remember the product they were advertising. (What could it possibly be?) But that clever two line dialogue is etched in my memory, reminding me of the first career conversation I had with my mom. I was six years old, and adults suddenly wanted to know what I wanted to be when I grew up.
Kids' fantasies today usually reflect their television world. They want to be movie stars, super athletes or, in some cases, comic book adventure heroes. My 6 year old nephews, Gabriel, want to be a policeman because "they arrest people and no one tells them what to do." This is a far cry from what his writer father and art loving mother would choose for him.
But personally, even as a child, I leaned toward serious intent.
I wanted to be a nurse and had good reasons why. While my first grade friends were playfully romping through the schoolyard, I had been in bed with scarlet fever. My first official school year was spent in and out of hospitals. My first career "choice" coincided with my recovery.
But when I told my mom about my plans, it became clear she had other ideas.
"You can't be a nurse, honey," she said, kindly but firmly.
"You have to be a teacher."
My six year old heart was broken (I was laboring under the delusion that I could be anything I wanted to be). "Why do I have to be a teacher?" I asked.
"So you can be home for your kids when they get home from school."
My mom's logic was well beyond a child's comprehension. But I did garner this much disturbing news from her comment: Apparently, my entire life was already planned out and no one had even bothered to consult me!
The Parent Trap
Many other well intentioned (but misguided) parents have given their children similarly bad career advice. One 80 something CEO who's just now stepping down from his place at the head of a multimillion dollar electronics company remembers the worst advice his parents ever gave him. As a college student, electrical engineering was his first love and his unequivocal choice for a major.
His parents convinced him that chemical engineering was the better choice. Why? Because they were sure that Thomas Edison had already accomplished everything there was to be done in the electrical field.
Fortunately, he wised up and went back to his first instinct. But it took him awhile to realize that his parents were wrong.
In How To Help Your Child Land the Right Job (1993, New York: Workman), career counselor Nella Barkley offers some myths children learn that interfere with their ability to make personally satisfying career choices as adults. To find your way to a more fulfilling work life, you may have to unlearn some of that flawed advice you got from Mom and Dad.
Myth 1 Parents Have All the Answers
Eleanor Roosevelt was right when she said, "You can't live anyone else's life not even your child's." Why, then, do so many parents feel compelled to present their children with ready made answers to Life's Tough Questions rather than help them develop the experience, self knowledge and self confidence to create their own solutions? Although parents have a duty to instill their children with "proper values," much of what parents parade as "right" has more to do with personal preference than with morality. Too many parents push their own personal dream and call it reality.
For an extreme case, look at tennis pro Mary Pierce, whose father Jim was so disruptive at various tournaments that he was banned from all events sanctioned by the Women's Tennis Association. The problem typically was his shouting during matches. But Pierce has also been criticized for being a tough coach. It's been said, for example, that he'd make his daughter spend hours in the rain hitting tennis balls in a parking lot after losing a match (Washington Post).
"I was her strength, her backbone," her father has been quoted as saying. "Yes, I pushed and drove her to the top. I always made her feel like she wasn't quite good enough. I wanted her to work to go up another three levels."
Competing in such a charged atmosphere, it's not surprising that Mary would describe tennis as a job, not a game. Finally, she switched to a less overbearing coach. Able to relax a little on the court, Mary found that her game improved. Within a year and a half, she'd moved up from No. 12 to No. 6 in the rankings.
Part of growing up, it seems, means figuring out that your parents don't have all the answers, even if they think they do. In a wonderful episode from The Wonder Years, the television series about a baby boomer nostalgically reliving his years of innocence, 12 year old Kevin Arnold goes to work with his father one day. The encounter turns into an important "coming of age" experience.
Dressed in matching suits and ties, the two male Arnolds are greeted by a small staff of fawning servants who pinch Kevin's cheeks and ask him what he wants to be when he grows up. Inside his father's office, Kevin is astounded and impressed by the "grown up toys" he sees everywhere but especially his father's Big Desk and Giant Chair.
His father is immediately bombarded with emergency phone calls and people crises. As he adroitly handles them one by one, Kevin leans back in the Giant Chair and props his feet up on the Big Desk, watching the action and fantasizing about "how great it must be to have power."
A moment of father son intimacy ensues a few minutes later when, in the cafeteria, Kevin asks his father: "Did you always want to be the Manager of Distribution Support and Product Services?" His father laughs, telling his son, "When I was your age, I wanted to be captain of a big ship with a big mast. Be on the ocean. Navigate by the stars."
When asked what happened to his dream, Mr. Arnold de scribes how he generally settled into adult responsibilities. He claims no regrets about the lost dream. "You can't do every silly thing you want in life," he says.
Back at the office, Kevin's dad is accosted by his boss, who chews him out for not taking his phone calls. As Kevin looks on, the Big Boss threatens to fire his father if he ever makes that mistake again. Mr. Arnold never says a word in his own defense.
Later that night, father and son stand outside gazing up ward at the stars, pondering the day's events. As his father searches the sky for Polaris, Kevin realizes that he, too, has lost something. His father doesn't scare him anymore.
The road to adulthood is paved with renunciation. To grow, we must give up certain illusions. It may be hard to accept that your parents don't have all the answers. Coming to that awareness, however, is a crucial part of the transition into "emotional adulthood." Another element is learning to trust your gut and take responsibility for your own feelings and choices.
