My daughter is a rebel. And I am so very grateful that she is.
Just for the record, I did NOT say rebellious. I said rebel. And there is a difference.
I’m a rule follower. There, I said it. I believe rules are in place for a reason and I have no problem following them. Maybe I like guidelines. Maybe I just don’t like to make waves. When others question a rule, I run through in my head all the scenarios that must have taken place for the rule to have been made. I figure there is a good reason for it. I believe if we wish to change rules then there is a proper way to bring about change.
I’m a stay on the sidewalk kind of gal, what can I say? (Did you just call me boring? I heard that!)
So A came home today with a gift for me. She’d made it during art club. It’s the cutest little soap dish you ever did see. 😉 She loves to draw and she loves to paint, but she doesn’t work with much else. I think it turned out quite nicely.
But here’s the thing; the dish is in the shape of a leaf, but the artist told them to not try to make cut outs on the edges because she didn’t think they would be able to do so in the limited time she had to teach them.
So you guessed it – Instead of leaving the sides of her leaf smooth, A cut it out.
She was really proud of her work, and hey, it was waaay better than anything I’d ever done. There is STILL a family joke about a cat I made out of clay in second grade. Well, it was supposed to be a cat, but if it was that thing needed an exorcism. My mom still has it and it’s probably why she’s plagued with nightmares.
This simple little leaf got me to thinking though. My daughter, while she respects authority and is always polite and well mannered, she is not a rule follower.
She sees them as personal challenges I believe. Okay, I’m not talking about life or death rules here. But still.
I would never have done the opposite of what the visiting artist said to do. It wasn’t something of utmost importance, she just didn’t feel they would be able to do it. My daughter had to defy that logic and show that she could.
When I questioned her about it she said, “You know, I never learn things from the beginning like other people do. I start in the middle and work outwards. I make a lot of mistakes that way but I learn on my own terms. I learn my way. I set a bar for myself and I can’t go under it. I have to go above it.”
It’s true. When she was a very little girl and wanted to learn to draw so badly, I went and got all kinds of books on learning to draw. She flipped through them, looked at the pictures and set about trying to copy the finished product instead of going through the steps. I would try to tell her, “Look, go back, try to do it this way.” She would get so irritated at me. She would get irritated at herself too, for not being able to produce a perfect drawing, but she just could NOT learn to do it the “regular” way.
That could have something to do with the ADHD too. I think a lot of us can’t learn things the way we are “supposed to.”
Hey, the kid can draw now, so it doesn’t really matter does it?
I thought about all the times in my life I’ve had questions. I never asked them. I thought about all the times I wanted to do the opposite of what I was told to do. I didn’t. I thought about the conversations I wished I’d had, the rules I wish I’d challenged, the arguments even, that I wish I’d fought.
A does not shy away from questioning. She respects authority, but if she wants to know the why of something she asks. Sometimes she isn’t given an answer, but she is never afraid to speak up or out. I admire that. I’ve always told her that as long as she is respectful, the world wasn’t made by the people like me who just stand quietly on the sidewalk. (I know this has changed a lot as I’ve gotten older, I still don’t like confrontation, but I’m a lot less afraid now than I was back then.)
She fights for causes she believes in. She brings discussion into her classrooms. She doesn’t follow wherever the masses are going. I didn’t follow the masses when I was a teen, but I pretty much sat on the sidelines.
A will never sit quietly on the sidelines. She has too much to do, too much to say, and too much that she wants to know. And she is waaay too loud for that anyway.
I’m proud of her for the fearlessness she shows in so many areas. She is such a contradiction. I had someone tell me the other day that she just amazed them, that she was so confident in herself and so comfortable with who she was and how she accepted herself. I thanked them, but I almost sucked my drink up my nose.
A? Confident? A is high functioning. She is far from confident. She has zero self esteem and she thinks she is bad at everything. So how can this kid be fearless? I often don’t understand it myself. But she shows up. Every day. She puts herself out there. Every damned day. She figures she has nothing to lose. I guess she’s right.
I’m lucky that she has the chance to attend a school where her teachers appreciate her personality. They push her to be herself and to actively participate. They welcome her discussions and her questions. They even welcome the sarcastic sparring matches. (most of them do anyway)
For all the times I’ve shaken my head and muttered, “Can’t you just for once follow the rules without questioning?” I’m glad she didn’t. For all the times I told her what I wanted her to do, told her what my advice was, knowing full well she was going to do her own thing anyway, I’m glad she does.
I’d rather raise an independent thinker who can chase her life’s goals than someone afraid to speak up for herself.
Her school is starting a debate team next year. Heaven help them.