We were at the post-parenting meeting — the meeting where my husband and I recovered from all the upsetting things they’ve said at the parenting meeting. I always found I needed the after-meeting-meeting — especially when it was held at a local bar.
This evening we had watched a “TED” talk (Technology, Education, and Design) about how to improve our children’s education.
“If I hear the phrase ‘critical thinking skills’ one more time, I think I’ll — thanks, darling,” I said, as my husband brought over a Pinot Grigio just in time. “What does that phrase even mean?”
“Well, if it means, ‘Be critical of everything your parents say or do,’ then my kids have it down pat!” said Carla, one of the other moms. Her kids were still in high school, driving her full-time crazy.
“And these experts keep saying our kids have to ‘innovate,’ ” said Tom, Carla’s husband. “Whatever that means. Tell me, how are they supposed to fit anything more into a schedule that’s already wall-to-wall with classes and extracurriculars? I suppose I can just add a note on the college application, saying ‘Please excuse my son’s lack of grades for all of first semester, he’s been busy ‘innovating’?”
“Along with ‘problem solving’! ”
“And ‘divergent thinking’!”
“What’s that?”
“I think it was a movie series. You know — the one that wasn’t ‘The Hunger Games.’ ”
“And don’t forget, Imagination!”
What these experts don’t seem to realize is, we’re not all going to be MacGyvers, who look at a BIC pen and see a tracheotomy tube. Sometimes it’s just a pen. Besides, do we really want our children being “creative” all over the place? I can see it now:
“Billy! Sit down and concentrate on today’s lesson.”
“But Miss Smith, I’m trying to innovate alternative uses for this window shade.”
“Yes, I know — but I think understanding the role of water in metabolic functions will turn out to be more important.”
“Not if you’re trapped on an island, trying to signal for help.”
“If that happens, you’ll wish more than ever that you understood the importance of water to your metabolism.”
“And worst of all,” I say, sloshing my wine a little out of the glass, “it’s not enough to be all these other things, but now everyone has to be ‘entrepreneurial,’ too! What does that mean? Does everybody have to be a Steve Jobs building iPhones in their parents’ garage?”
“We don’t even have a garage!” said Carla.
“Tough luck!” We all toasted Tom and Carla’s lack of garage.
“It was computers, Judy,” corrected my husband. “In the garage. The iPhones came later.”
“Whatever! My point is, if everybody becomes an entrepreneur, who’ll buy all the stuff they’ve ‘enterprised’?”
“Their parents,” said Tom. “Just like we did with all the Girl Scout cookies.”
“Whatever happened to just trying to be good at something?” I groused. “I’m glad I applied for college in a bygone era, when it was enough just to get the best grades you could, and fill in all the blanks in the application. By the time my kids were applying, they had to do everything well — not just grades but activities, too —but not even that was enough. They had to show ‘leadership potential.’
“But if everyone’s a leader,” I quoted our son, “then really, nobody’s a leader, because there’s nobody following!”
“Aha! Critical thinking!” cried my husband, and we clinked glasses.
“But seriously, you know, he’s right. Haven’t you heard that expression, ‘Too many chiefs, and not enough Indians’?”
“You can’t say that any more, Judy.”
“Okay — too many chefs, and not enough, um, sous-chefs?”
“Don’t you mean, ‘Waiters’?”
“Sure. The point is, why must everyone be leaders? Doesn’t the world need followers, too?”
“Ah! But followers don’t grow up and give big chunks of money to their alma mater.”
And that, suddenly, explained everything…including the fad for entrepreneurs. I don’t think they want the “innovator” who has figured out how to booby-trap his back-pack against search by his little brother. No, they want the “entrepreneur” who makes so many billions that he or she can endow a library at their old university … with enough for a gym left over.
And while that might be nice — whatever happened to having a calling? Or just a career that gives you fulfillment?
Oh, I forgot: “Fulfillment” is the department you talk to when the entrepreneur’s robot drone has sent you the wrong merchandise. Silly me.
Column: Critical thinking at the parent meeting
