This week he had his matriculation exam in mathematics. All his friends sat days and nights studying in study-groups. But Jonathan is not able to sit and study. Something new pops up every minute, postponing the studying for later, or maybe never.
So many things he has done during that exam period - running around for hours on sportgrounds, watching movies and television, spending hours with friends, almost every possible thing, except for anything relating to a book or a notebook.
His mother, my wife, lost her patience at quite an early stage. It started with "what time should I wake you up?" or "when do you intend to sit and study?" and later with less gentle wording.
Each time the boy leaves home she looks at him with that look of "it's really not the time to have fun," or says something like "How, exactly, do you think you will successfully pass that exam?"
Jonathan, in a typical defensive move, starts to conceal, is reluctant to update, pretends he is studying. But above all, gradually, he ceases to communicate with us.
On Friday evening we had guests. We sat in the living-room and one of our friends, a high school teacher, said that the main thing children need is boundaries.
"What kind of boundaries, exactly?" I asked. "Do we really understand what boundaries Jonathan needs? Is it really the most important thing a child needs? And besides, until what age are we supposed to educate our children?"
I went to the book-shelf and took out The Prophet by Halil Gibran and read aloud:
Your children are not your children, but the fruit of life's longing to itself:
They come through you, but not of you, they live with you, but do not belong to you.
Give your children your love, but not your thoughts, for they have thoughts of their own.
Their body dwells in your house, but not their soul.
For their soul dwells in the house of tomorrow, where you will not visit, not even in your dreams.
You may wish to be like them, but do not attempt to make them like you.
For life goes onward, not backwards, And they will not cling to yesterday.
It is no doubt, a beautiful poem. The parents' typical reaction to it is "of course it's true, but…" and behind the 'but' hides the wish to control. For who, if not us, loving parents, will save our children from all the troubles we have experienced?
We think that our son, Johnathan, does not understand the importance of studying, therefore we will force him to study. We think he does not know when is the right time to return home at night, therefore we will set the limits. We think our daughter does not know how to dress properly, therefore we will buy the clothes for her.
And so, in the name of those important boundaries, we try to duplicate our children in our own image, or in the image of some ideal that we have, mostly the very ideal we, ourselves, have been unable to achieve.
How many years went by before I understood this simple secret: instead of just loving them the way they are and the way they are not, to be there for them in times of need, to hug them, to tell them about ourselves (and not about our images), to be their true friends, we try to educate them, to change them, often in a cruel, hurtful and unconscious manner, for it is only their wellbeing that we seek.
There is no pleasant way of saying it: our love for our children is not unconditional.
Our giving is conditional as well: if you enroll in a university, you will get money; if you succeed in your exams, we will pay for your trip abroad, and more such manipulations of love and giving. We do it all, only so that our child will follow the path which seems right to us.
Therefore, when our children grow up differently from what we had in mind - do not attend law school, for example, not to mention becoming religious, or marrying a spouse we don't really like, we get hurt, we punish, or even cut our contacts, because he is our child and this is not how he should behave.
When our friends ask about our child we are ashamed, maybe even invent stories about some ideal offspring, and then get even angrier and more disappointed - why isn't he really like that, the way we hoped he would be… and whose fault is it? only his! Surely, we set limits, we outlined the path, and he went his own way. A scandal!
Boundaries are not a bad thing: don't hit your little brother, don't pour water on the computer. Yet still, it is not for us to impose upon a child our world and wishes.
It is his business whether to study, what to study, who to marry. For our children are not ours; they are the fruit of life's longing to itself, and they are their own. Therefore, at the basis of education, one has to remember that the child is a free individual to do as he pleases, whenever he pleases.
We will teach him when he will be willing to learn from us. We will assist him as much as we can, when he will be ready to accept our help. Most importantly, we will love him and respect his wishes, for he knows what suits him, even if it doesn't suit us. This is his life, not ours.
How many years it took me to learn this simple lesson: If he so wishes, he will study. If not, he will not study. I love Jonathan and hug him every evening, without counting the number of math problems he managed to solve. For after all, life is not mathematics.