You Are Not My Friend

You are not my friend,
I cannot pretend that you are.
Norah Jones, singer, song writer

I read an interesting post over at Random Thoughts titled “Dad’s Not Your Friend” regarding parents being friends with their kids. Even the Wall Street Journal has an article this week about parents being hip with their kids:



This less-defiant generation is influencing plots, changing what types of shows get made and prompting networks like MTV that have long specialized in youthful rebellion to rethink their approach. The new, more-sanguine shows still broach racy topics like sex, drug use and teen pregnancy, but they appease parents by always presenting consequences. Parents typically have prominent roles and just as many tawdry story lines as the teens—and look almost like older siblings. …For decades, TV has depicted teens as angst-ridden and rebellious, and parents as out-of-touch and unhip…

While I always thought I was knowledgeable, if not hip, when it came to pop culture, by my late-20s I was falling behind. When daughter was four or five, I thought Snoop Dog was a new name for Charlie Brown’s dog Snoopy. We had a short who’s the boss moment about what she could or could not listen to; I prevailed and she no longer owned a Snoop Dog tape.

I never viewed myself as daughter’s friend, buddy, chum, colleague, or comrade ever:

• We share secrets – but only important family secrets: “let’s have a Ding Dong, but don’t tell mom.”

• We go to sporting events – but we don’t have beers. We boo and cheer, share a hot dog and peanuts.

• We might have a drink over dinner – but we don’t go drinking.

• We go to concerts – but we don’t get drunk or smoke anything, but we do have a good time singing and dancing. She has seen the Rolling Stones and Ray Davies three times.

While daughter is grown, it seems financial assistance is still required. Granted, she is still in school, and that seems like it is going on forever (Bachelor’s, Master’s, and next May, a law degree). I have nothing to complain about. She is a good kid and works hard, but we are not pals.

I view friendship differently -- more informal and certainly much less responsibility. I would never want to burden her with my problems and issues. I am her father and I will always be her father. That is a relationship that is so much more meaningful and important than being her friend.

Men Bullying Women, Part II

The first duty of a lecturer—to hand you after an hour’s discourse a nugget of pure truth to wrap up between the pages of your notebooks and keep on the mantelpiece for ever.
Virginia Woolf (1882–1941), novelist

Daughter’s in the Master’s program, her professor started berating the class of eight students, five of whom did not read the assignment because of a miscommunication between what was on the syllabus and what was on the board.

The adjunct professor is 6’4” and in his mid-forties. He started yelling at the students calling them pathetic several times, looking at Daughter and another girl (both are A students and known for their work ethic). After class, Daughter went up to the instructor and apologized for missing the assignment and accepted responsibility, but told him she didn’t think it was right to publicly humiliate them.

Then he increased his level of yelling and said, I have a specific problem with you! If you want to drop the class, I won’t stop you, and lucky for you I grade blindly, so this won’t affect your grade.

Daughter replied, Regardless, I don’t think it’s your place to embarrass us.

I think it is, shouted the instructor.

I respectfully disagree, said Daughter as she calmly walked out of the class.

The next morning, The university’s program director received four e-mails and one voicemail reporting the instructor’s outburst.

Drop or not to drop? The program director has encouraged Daughter to stay in the class and he will review her appeal, if one is necessary.