This is the first in a three-part series.
I read an article a couple weeks ago about lying to children, when it's appropriate and when the truth is the better route.
I'm still trying to wrap my head around this, the idea that lying to my daughter would ever be the proper course. As I read, I quickly realized one immutable truth: Parents lie to spare themselves, not their kids.
One story was of a parent whose son asked for a toy he wasn't about to get. To avoid explaining why he couldn't have the toy, and also the tantrum that apparently would follow, the parent said the toy was for bigger kids and the clerk wouldn't let him have it.
Suggesting that taking an honest and authoritative position would have brought about an unwanted scene exposes the fact this parent allowed the wrong person to control the situation. Besides, it is not always necessary to give your child reasons for your choices; at times it is in the interest of cementing the parent-child hierarchy with the age old, "Because I said so."
Now, when I say control, I don't mean kept under one's thumb. I give Maddie as much room to be her own person as I can, and I'm always delighted by what she makes of herself.
But children don't raise themselves. They look to us for guidance, they take their social cues from how we behave and how we tell them to behave. Given the inherent selfish nature of children, they will almost always opt for the lowest of expectations we set.
Unfortunately, that hierarchy hadn't been established in this particular relationship, and I imagine this situation is fairly prevalent. This parent has already determined the path of least resistance: It is easier to lie to the child than to parent him if he throws a fit.
If you lie to your child, what has she learned?
So what if she cries? It’s momentary, it doesn’t hurt. So what if she thinks it's unfair? That's part of it, part of growing and understanding the world and your place in it. It's part of coming to the realization that, while your parents love you and shower you with attention and revolve their own worlds around you, you cannot — EVER — always have your way.
If parents aren't willing to put forth the effort to raise their child with this understanding from the womb, the child will likely grow into an adolescent who doesn’t understand it. And then …
The earlier a child learns that you are in charge, that you will stand by your word and not be swayed by their meltdowns, the sooner they will cast aside this behavior.
This lie was represented as a "white" lie.
What is a "white" lie, anyway? Are we afforded a get-out-of-morality-free card by prefacing a term indicative of something wrong with the color symbolizing virtue and purity? Seriously?
The oxymoronic nature of "white lie" is bold and laughable. But it's also symbolic. It seems there is little more important today than instant gratification via the easy route. And since that cannot always be attained through honest means, the "white" lie is always buffeted by expedient rationalization.
The truth, however, is simple: A lie is a lie. Because the teller has determined for himself the lie is of little importance doesn't make it so. The liar doesn't get to decide the impact of his transgression. The consequences of a “white” lie are often more far-reaching, and potentially devastating, than the truth ever could be.
Watch for Lying: Death and Santa Claus tomorrow.