Easter was a big deal when I was growing up. Like most holidays, my family spent it at the home of mother’s parents in Carroll County.
My mother’s six siblings and their families, including my 17 first cousins, were usually there, too. This was not a time for quiet reflection and meditation.The DeLoaches liked to talk, and talk loudly.
The day started for those of us staying at the house with a massive breakfast. Then it was off to Liberty Baptist Church.
After that came a massive lunch. The adults let the meal digest while exasperated children fidgeted and whined. We couldn’t wait for what for us was the highlight of the weekend: the family Easter egg hunt.
My grandparents’ house sat atop a hill at the junction of two roads. The massive, downhill-sloping “lawn” was an excellent place to hide and hunt Easter eggs.
Most of the adults hid the eggs. Then they told the children how many eggs were out there and let us loose.
My parents did not help their children find eggs (well, maybe they helped the baby a few times). Never mind that their siblings were happily helping their kids seek out the eggs.
I don’t know if my dad considered it cheating to help us find eggs since he had helped hide them. Or maybe my folks were trying to teach us self-reliance.
What this did was make my oldest sister and me angry. When we were away from Carroll County, we would complain. Not that it did any good.
I put it down to a difference in the generations. My parents were children during the Great Depression and World War II. They were taught to work hard and to make their own way in the world. They tried to pass that along to their children.
Of course, there were some big differences. My sisters and I were somewhat-spoiled suburban kids. We didn’t get everything we wanted, but we got a lot: music lessons, art lessons, sports equipment, band instruments, lots of books to read, etc.
My parents were loving and, in retrospect, doting at times. They certainly couldn’t be confused with a modern “helicopter parent.”
That is the parenting style of many baby boomers have used with their millennial children. That includes me, the baby boomer father of two millennials.
Wikipedia defines a helicopter parent as one “who pays extremely close attention to a child’s or children’s experiences and problems, particularly at educational institutions. Helicopter parents are so named because, like helicopters, they hover overhead, overseeing their child’s life. ...
“The Chronicle of Higher Education reported that helicopter parents continued advocating for their adult children at the graduate school level as well, such as advocating for their adult child’s admission to law school or business school. As this cohort entered the workforce, human resources officials reported helicopter parents showing up in the workplace or phoning managers to advocate on their adult child’s behalf or to negotiate salaries for their adult children.”
Wow. I’ve never had a job candidate come for an interview with a parent in tow. I’ve met the parents of several people we’ve hired at the Commonwealth, but that was alway after we hired their children.
I know I spoiled my daughters. For example, I went to more than my share of sports practices, something parents never did when I was growing up. But I never advocated for them with a teacher, coach or employer.
Helicopter parenting has produced the most entitled generation in history. Millennials are even more spoiled than we baby boomers, which is saying something. But that’s what the older generation always says. Since civilization survived the baby boomers, I think it can endure with the millennials.
I was assisted in spoiling my daughters by their grandparents. At times I wondered, “Who are these people? Have my parents been taken over by aliens?”
Speaking of those grandparents, my daughters got to participate in a few family Easter egg hunts in Carroll County when they were young. Since I was helping to hide the eggs, I declined to help them find eggs. Usually.
The girls didn’t need my help, though. My parents were busy running around helping their grandkids search for eggs.
• Contact Charles Corder at 581-7241 or ccorder@gwcommonwealth.com.
