More on Mr. Miyagi . . . Brené Brown
Willits's Weekly Wonderings Five (4)
Good Afternoon-- The past couple weekends have been special ones for me and have kept me pondering Mr. Miyagi . . . and parenting. As I had alluded to in my previous wondering, the relationship between Mr. Miyagi and Daniel LaRusso (aka "Daniel-san") is but one aspect that makes The Karate Kid a great trilogy. The significance of their relationship cannot be overstated, particularly as we watch Daniel overcome his fear and defeat his opponent, the former accomplishment being much more significant than the latter. (Here it is again (2:40)) in case you want to watch it again). It is only within the context of a deep, meaningful relationship that Daniel can respond to Mr. Miyagi's counsel. Had it not been for the relationship, Daniel would not have been able to move past his fear, and become the best version of himself. The significance of what Mr. Miyagi says in Daniel's moment of fear increases in consideration of what Mr. Miyagi doesn't say. Here is the exchange:
"Mr. Miyagi, it's over. It's over. Forget about it."
"NO!"
"I'm afraid. I'm afraid. I want to go home."
"Cannot, cannot, must not! It's okay to lose to an opponent, must not lose to fear!"
"Yeah, well I'm afraid. I'm afraid of him, alright. What do you want me to do?"
"HAI! Daniel-san you stay focused. You best karate still inside, now time let out!"
Mr. Miyagi did not:
- Help Daniel up.
- Agree with Daniel's self-assessment
- Reinforce Daniel's fear.
- Deter from his belief in Daniel's potential.
- Pull Daniel off the mat.
What did they do or not do that developed a meaningful relationship with you and helped you grow/learn/excel? It is easy to find motivation from the end of sappy movie that ends with the mentor and mentee embracing in a hug. But remember this scene?
Could you be Mr. Miyagi in your adolescent's life? Reflect back on what you value from your "Mr. Miyagis." Do you value only the celebratory hugs? Or also the firm "training?" I am of the belief that our adolescents need both, or they won't be prepared to defeat the fear they'll encounter on their journey onward. If Mr. Miyagi isn't doing it for you, how about more from Brené Brown? Similar to Mr. Miyagi, she encourages the conquering of fear in her book Daring Greatly, a book I would highly recommend. She offers some candid advice to help us become a "Mr. Miyagi" to our adolescent. Here are but a few of the gems from her book:
When it comes to parenting, the practice of framing mothers and fathers as good or bad is both rampant and corrosive-it turns parenting into a shame minefield. The real questions for parents should be: "are you engaged? Are you paying attention?” If so, plan to make lots of mistakes and bad decisions. Imperfect parenting moments turn into gifts as our children watch us try to figure out what went wrong and how we can do better next time. The mandate is not to be perfect and raise happy children. Perfection doesn’t exist, and I found that what makes children happy doesn’t always prepare them to be courageous, engaged adults.—p. 15
We live in a world where most people still subscribe to the belief that shame is a good tool for keeping people in line. Not only is this wrong, but it’s dangerous. Shame is highly correlated with addiction, violence, aggression, depression, eating disorders, and bullying. Researchers don’t find shame correlated with positive outcomes at all – there are no data to support that shame is a helpful compass for good behavior. In fact, shame is much more likely to be the cause of destructive and hurtful behaviors than it is to be the solution.—pp. 72-73
You can’t claim to care about the welfare of children if you’re shaming other parents for the choices they are making. Those are mutually exclusive behaviors and we create a huge values gap. Yes, most of us (myself included) have strong opinions on every one of those topics, but if we really care about the broader welfare of children, our job is to make choices that are aligned with our values and support other parents who are doing the same. Our job is also to tend to her own worthiness. When we feel good about the choices we’re making and when we’re engaging with the world from a place of worthiness rather than scarcity, we feel no need to judge and attack . . .
In fact, I’ve sworn off the good bad parenting dichotomy simply because on any given day you could file me under both good parent and bad parent, depending on your perspective and how things are going for me. I just don’t see what value the judgment frame adds to our lives or to the larger parenting conversation. In fact, it’s a shame storm waiting to happen. To me the question of parenting values is about engagement. Are we paying attention? Thinking through our choices? Open to learning and being wrong? Curious and willing to ask questions?—p. 230
Before writing the section, I spread my data all over my dining room table and asked myself this question: What do you parents experience as the most vulnerable and bravest thing that they do in their efforts to raise Wholehearted children? I thought it would take days to figure out, but as I looked over the field notes, the answer was obvious:
letting their children struggle and experience adversity.
As I travel across the country there seems to be growing concern on the part of parents and teachers that children are not learning how to handle adversity or disappointment because we’r e always rescuing and protecting them. What’s interesting is that more often than not, I hear this concern from the same parents who are chronically intervening, rescuing, and protecting. It’s not that our children can’t stand the vulnerability of handling their own situations, it’s that we can’t stand the uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure, even when we know it’s the right thing to do.—p. 238 (my emphasis added).
A couple weekends ago, I was able to spend a weekend with one of my "Mr. Miyagis," as my father and I went to Memorial Stadium in Lincoln, NE to watch our beloved Huskers get their first victory of the season, taking down the Gophers of Minnesota. The last time I was at a Husker game with my dad, I was 10-years-old. We were able to spend the entire day together. The following weekend, I was able to take my oldest two sons back to the farm and help my dad harvest. Sitting next to Dad watching the Huskers take the field, or squeezing three generations into the cab of combine on a beautiful late October day is about as good as it gets; but equally important are the times my father provided training, let me deal with my fear, challenged me, and held high expectations of me. If he hadn't, I doubt the delicate times of Husker watching and corn picking would be as treasured. Let's equip our adolescents to defeat fear by providing both. I love being your student's school counselor. If there is something you want me to know to do it better, please hit "reply." Grant W. Willits 5-8 School Counselor (712)722-3783 (x2120) * The Karate Kid is rated PG, but this scene has some colorful language.
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