As parents, it's our job to teach our children right from wrong. We pick bits and pieces from what our own parents taught us and try to instill what we believe to be good morals and ethics.
When you really think about it, that's a HUGE job! I mean, what if you screw up? What if you forget something and you send an a$$hole out into the world?!? It's a lot of pressure!
My father was the disciplinarian in our home. My mom need only mention calling my dad at work and I'd stop doing whatever it was I was doing wrong. Immediately. Well...until 7th grade. Then I became a fearless jerk.
My dad wasn't a bad guy though. He was stern, but loving. Even though I was scared of him, I knew he loved me. He kept me in line...but in doing so, he taught me right from wrong. Although I acted like a jacka$$ for a few years there, it's life lessons that he taught me as a child that guided my adult life.
When I was young, there was a girl in my grade named Dana Robin. Outside of my core group of neighborhood friends, I considered Dana to be one of my best friends. But there was a problem...ya see, Dana was a b!#ch.
At school, Dana would decide, based upon the day, if she was going to be nice to me or not. Most of the time she wasn't. She would say mean things, make up lies about me, tease me or run away from me at recess....
There were plenty of days where I would come home crying because of what she had done to me.
Once the school bell rang and there were no other kids around, she suddenly wanted to be my friend. She would call and I would ride my bike over to her house 5 minutes later. It's not even like she was kind when I would go either. She'd still be somewhat mean...but I took it. I tolerated someone being nasty to me...taking advantage of me...hurting my feelings...for whatever reason, I tolerated it.
I'm not sure what exactly prompted it, but one day I was really upset and came home crying. It was at that point that my father had had enough. Even though the school bell had rang hours earlier, a new class was starting. It was called, "The Gonzalez class on how to grow a god damn backbone" and it was taught by my dad.
I'm not sure why I remember this particular class session so well this many years later. Perhaps it was the message...or more likely, it was the fact that it was the first time I heard my father swear. I think it was a little of both.
My father questioned me on why I would tolerate someone treating me like that. I would say, "Because she's my friend, dad." His answer would always be the same..."Someone who cares about you would NEVER EVER treat you like that."
Really? Huh...
Now here's the part that stuck...
He looked me dead in the eye and said, "Lisa, my dad had a saying in Spanish." (He'd then say the Spanish version but there's no way in hell I could write that one out)
"It means, 'Shit on me once...shame on you for doing it. Shit on me twice...shame on me for allowing you to do it to me again.' Do you understand? This isn't about Dana anymore. You allow her to do this to you over and over again. This is now about you. It's your fault because you continue to let it happen. You let her walk all over you. Now you can only blame yourself for putting up with it."
And to drive the point home? He grounded me. Yep...my notes to prep for life's future Dana Robins included a week or two of not being able to play with any of my friends, no phone, and I was forbidden from ever playing with Dana Robin again.
Looking back on it, it was an interesting lesson. While I thought he was horrible and mean back then, as an adult I look back on that moment and see how it forever changed me. It was at that time that I finally grew a god damn backbone. Hell...if I didn't he'd ground me again. It made me look at relationships differently. No longer was I a rug that you could walk all over or wipe your feet on.
Although my father taught many other classes, I think that was the one that impacted me the most. It molded me for future, adult relationships and taught me that I was worth more than that. It taught me that I DESERVED better...and to this day, it stuck.
I found myself teaching this same lesson to Jackson. It played out almost exactly the same. It included a kid who he considered to be his best friend that treated him like crap and him taking it like his mother once did. It included the "My father once told me..." speech. It even featured the grounding...although not as tough as I had gotten years back.
My father is obviously a far better teacher than I am, however. My class with Jackson wasn't as effective. Maybe it's because Jackson isn't as scared of me as I was of my dad. Or maybe it's because he thinks his teacher is full of s##t.
Whereas I never saw my dad having to answer to anyone, Jackson has seen me been yelled at at work and has seen me take it. He's seen me do exactly what it is that I tell him not to do. That was never the case with my father.
Perhaps I need to enroll Jackson in class with my dad.
When I look back on my adult relationships, I know that the Dana Robin lesson played a huge part in what I found acceptable. My dad taught me that I was worth more than what I had once thought and it carried over to my relationships...especially with men. The majority of the time, I would walk the minute I felt disrespected...but there were a few instances where I stayed because of what I thought was love. Each time I stayed, I'd think of my dad...how disappointed he'd be...how he taught me better.
I make it a point to teach Jackson to be stronger than I was/am. As a woman, it's hard but I try to teach him how to be a good man. I look back on the lessons my father taught me and those I have had to learn on my own. I stress the importance of being truthful and tell him the worst thing he could be in life is a liar. I teach him to respect others and to always think of their feelings before you act or speak. I teach him how to treat women...well, girls really...7 year old girls...but also the women in his life. I stress the importance of good friends and how to sustain those relationships. I teach him the importance of family. All the lessons I learned from my father...
But when I look back at all the lessons my father taught me...it all comes back to Dana. It all comes back to not allowing people to s##t on you. That was where my schooling really began and that's when I really became Lisa Gonzalez and not Lisa the Doormat.
I may have slipped a few times...I may have sold myself short and let some people treat me like s##t...but deep down I know I deserve more. I know I deserve better. I know right from wrong. I know to think of others before myself. I know the importance of family. I know the importance of being truthful...not only with others but also with myself.
That's more than I can say about other people I know.
I know all these things because my dad taught them to me.
In all my years of school, it turned out that my greatest teacher was not found in a typical classroom.
My greatest teacher...the one who really taught me about life...was my dad.
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