You Can't Make Me

Once my kid's mantra, now mine

My son did not expect this threatening figure in the library.

I’m a sucker for power struggles. The core theme running through my parenting journey is:

• How do I get my needs met while guiding my children through the major daily transitions of getting to school and getting to bed?

• And more recently, how do I communicate in such a way that I am in charge but they are ultimately making decisions based on internal motivations, not just to please me?

I know I’ve stepped into “Daddy Authoritarian” mode when I hear their wise words in response, “you can’t make me.”

It’s true.

I can’t make them unless I physically manipulate their bodies. But that’s not them doing it. That’s me treating them like a puppet.

If I threaten them with a consequence, they are not acting from their will—they are in compliance mode.

If I tease them with a reward, they are again not acting from their will—that’s them just trying to get a reward.

I can’t make anyone choose to do something.

I can influence, but I ultimately can’t control the motivation of others.

In Emily Edlynn’s book, Autonomy Supportive Parenting, she leans on evidence-based practices that parents can learn from to create the conditions for children to become more autonomous…

The word "autonomy" derives from Greek roots meaning "self-governance" or "self-legislation."

The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy defines autonomy as follows: To be directed by considerations, desires, conditions, and characteristics that are not simply imposed externally upon one, but are part of what can somehow be considered one’s authentic self.

Autonomy in this sense seems an irrefutable value, especially since its opposite—being guided by forces external to the self and which one cannot authentically embrace—seems to mark the height of oppression.

For example, instead of saying “if you clean your room we can go sledding” (which is me dangling a carrot) I might say something like, “after you’ve cleaned your room we’ll be able to go sledding.”

The idea is to take away the THIS for THAT reward system language which pits my want against theirs. The replacement language is intended to create a more natural reward system.

Subtle, but distinct.

In one of my podcasts a ways back, I said to my guest:

There's going to be a point in my kid’s lives when they've learned something from their experience in our family with me, my wife, that will carry into their young adulthood and adulthood and perhaps in their own parenting styles. And it can be scary to think of like, oh, I'm creating a person that would fit very well into an authoritarian culture, whether in a business or a country. Someone who is conditioned to follow demands. That seems to start in the home.

Are you getting this?

Whether or not you believe our current (US) government is being led by someone with authoritarian leanings, or you felt that way about the last leader—doesn’t matter to me. What matters is that we can all relate to the bitter feeling of being told what to do when we disagree or simply want more choices—no matter the scale (in the family, in the workplace, or in the nation).

Exploring choices and then coming to a decision is a part of everyday life. I want my kids to be able to navigate life through considering their options and then being guided by forces inside themselves, not outside them.

Giving a one choice direction is a demand. And it will create understandable pushback.

And I do it all the time—mainly because I am motivated more by trying to move child A and child B along faster than by the goal of shaping my kids into self-powered human beings.

So, I’m in THAT learning place.

😔

You know…

…there’s a little gold in that pushback phrase, “You can’t make me.”

When my kids are feeling my authoritarian hairs standing on end, they point it out to me.

“You can’t make me.”

And they’re right.

And (MUCH LATER) I am proud of them for knowing that.

And speaking it.

My altar in my office, complete with inspiring figures.

A Self-Reflective Twist

Nobody is telling me what to do with this newsletter. I’m making it up as I go.

But if I listen to the schoolbus full of multiple parts within myself (see this podcast), there’s a task master that says, “keep writing 1 post each month and recording 1 podcast each month” and another, younger, part that says “you can’t make me.”

When I listen to that part that’s pushing back, here’s what he’s saying to me right now:

We are spinning a lot of plates.

We are a husband to an amazing woman that deserves our affection and care.

A father of two young children that have not quite landed in their bodies yet.

Working during the day.

Promoting a book by moonlight.

Volunteering a little every week.

Still trying to squeeze in self care.

Still trying to squeeze in the completion of a second book.

I just want to have a few less deadlines. A little less pressure to produce. I love writing. I love speaking to people about fatherhood.

But can we focus on the other plates and let this one be more of a playground? A sandbox for when there’s a spark to act on and we can fit it into our very busy schedule?

And here’s what the task master says in reply:

But we need to keep building our audience for the second book. It’s about fatherhood! The newsletter is about fatherhood!

Don’t you get it?

If we stop writing or doing podcasts regularly, as we set out to do, people won’t stay tuned. They will wonder if we are truly committed to this.

All the experts say you have to be consistent. Show up. Do the creative practice no matter how good or bad.

So that’s what we have to do. Just push through and keep going.

I’ll beat the drum, you get on board.

Pushback says…

I don’t want to. You can’t make me.

I’m your creative innocence.

If you don’t care for the people in your life and yourself, and your current commitments (which are many), then I am not nourished.

I need to be nourished in order to play in the Fatherhood Dojo space authentically.

And the task master sighs…

It’s true. I do need you.

And I don’t want you to feel forced.

I can’t make you do anything you are not truly wanting to do.

Tell me more about what you need to be nourished.

I’m listening now.

“Yes,” I tell my son. “Red shoes ARE DEFINITELY the fastest kind of shoes. But they look just as good when they are standing still.”

And That’s Where I’m At

I’ll write or record and publish when I want to.

I’m spinning lots of plates. I’m de-prioritizing the regularly scheduled nature of this newsletter in favor of…

…the rest of my life that needs my attention.

If I can fit in more self care and time to finish the second book—well, that’s more important to me than treating this newsletter like a mechanical, audience generation tool.

I deserve better.

And so do you 🩵

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How about you?

To honor the many commitments you have while being a parent, what might you need to loosen your grip on?

Hit reply to my email or add a comment if you’re on Substack ; )