I respect children profoundly. I think that they are the wisest amongst us, but we adults (ie. parents) unfortunately twist and mar and distort them such that they absorb our fears, our anxieties, our biases and our blinders. I cannot help but look at a child that could have been so much more, so much better, so much more noble, had their home circumstances just been... different.
This leads me to the point that I think I really am heading to a point of burn-out in aspects of my job. How so? For the first time ever, I made two different parents cry, and not for joy (that happens way more often). Why? For my chastisement of their ideas and fears that they were transferring onto their children. And you know what? I didn't care. At all.
Sure, you can say, easy for you to say; you don't have to raise any. Sure, I will say back: but I know and recognize my shortcomings, and am not so self-centred and self-aggrandized that I believe that I am capable and worthy enough to be transforming and forming and molding one of these little ones. Better for me to have a millstone hung around my neck and be thrown into the sea...
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1 comment:
why are you going to the UK? I completely understand where you are coming from. I'm burnt out myself. Baghhhhh.
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