Parenting Preteen Accountability 101
Written by Stacy Dymalski
The other day my 5th grade son came home and announced, “We need to have a family meeting!” This took me by surprise, because up until this point we have never had a family meeting, unless you count the time my husband assembled everyone in the kitchen to coerce a confession out of whomever got the bright idea to use the good knives to whittle a duck call out of a pumice stone (no one came clean – kids are tough nuts to crack).
“Why do we need to have a family meeting?” I asked.
“Because in a democracy everyone should have fair and equal representation,” he countered with the aplomb of a politician who had no idea what he was talking about.
“I see your teacher has started her unit on the three branches of government.” I said.
He nodded, then leaned in and whispered, “It’s kind of like a three ring circus, only there aren’t any clowns.” I had to bite my tongue to prevent myself from making a joke at my son’s expense.
“So what are we going to talk about at a family meeting?” I asked, getting back on track.
“Stuff.”
“What stuff?”
“Like…why should I have to clean my room, when it’s just as easy to shut the door?” Suddenly, I could see where he was heading.
“We’ve been through this before,” I harped. “You have to keep your room clean so you don’t become one of those adults who tolerates living in filth. It’s a matter of pride and responsibility…” Blah, blah, blah, I rambled off the same old speech like I was campaigning for Mother of the Year. But just as I got to the part about the importance of changing your sheets and your underwear more than once a month I noticed his eyes glassed over, not from boredom, but from tears.
“What’s the matter?” I couldn’t believe my tirade had affected him like this, since he’d already heard it a million times before.
He paused, looked at the floor and mumbled, “I failed my reading test today.”
And there you have it. As someone who prides herself on being intuitive, I hadn’t seen this coming. This whole set up was his way of priming me for what he thought was the worst news he could possibly bring home that day. His reading test was a huge part of his overall grade, and even though he had studied hard for it, he blew it.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” I asked.
“Because I didn’t want you to be mad at me,” he responded, which judging from the look on his face really meant, “Because I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.” And so in order to deflect disappointment away from his test, he steered the focused toward his dirty room, which to him was a much less serious offense. (Hey, he’s 10. In his worldview it made sense.)
I like to think that I talk to my kids about important things and that I listen when, on those rare occasions, they choose to talk to me. But this made me realize that no matter how high you think you stack the deck in your favor, the reality is your kids come to you on their own terms, so you better hope you’ve paved the way before they get there. Whether it’s failing a reading test in 5th grade, or failing a Math class in 9th grade, or failing a breathalyzer test at 18, it’s our job as parents to make sure they can find their way back to us (no matter how frustrated we get with them), as well as wade through their double entendres and ridiculous excuses in order to interpret what it is they’re really trying to say.
Because when everything is said and done, they’re still just kids. They don’t have a database of experience to draw from when their backs are against the wall. So if somewhere along the way they muster up the courage to bring their failures to the attention of the authority figures in their lives, they should get some sort of recognition for that, even if their punishment must stand, because that kind of personal accountability is not always an easy choice (even for many adults).
So although my 10-year-old was failing reading, I was actually quite proud of him, because he chose to hold himself accountable for it.
“Well,” I started, trying not to make the situation worse. “What do you think you should do?”
“I want to take the test again, but…can you come with me to ask the teacher?”
I nodded. “I can do that.”
We both just stood there, not knowing what to do next.
“Um, I’m really glad you decided we needed a family meeting,” I offered.
He looked at me like he would rather be anywhere else.
“You want me to go get the rest of the family?” I cajoled, already knowing what he’d say.
“No!” He abruptly answered.
“So I guess this is more like a sub-committee meeting, rather than a whole congressional session?”
“A what?”
I smiled. “You’ll have plenty of time to ask your teacher about it when you stay after school every day this week to study for your makeup test.”
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