A Sense of Entitlement

The only thing my father demanded of the world around him was respect.  It was a lesson I learned from watching him and being around him.  I don't think I was ever prouder as a kid than when my father informed a drunk man on an airport transport bus to please stop cursing because "there are young ladies present".  He meant my sister and I.  She was 16 and I was 10, on our way to the Seattle, WA, airport for our very first flight, unaccompanied, home to Illinois after living in Japan.  The dude shut down his language, and I figured out that I was worthy of respect because my daddy said so.

Back when my brother was a teen, he was in possession of a spray paint can and discovered that if he lit the paint as it was sprayed, it made a torch, of sorts.  He was messing with it in a public park in Oak Park, IL--and got arrested.  The media reported his arrest as "torch-wielding youth", blah, blah.  When Doug's court date came up, Dad went with him as the case was heard.  After the arresting officer testified and before sentence, Dad was asked if he had any questions of the officer.  He did.  "At any time, was my son disrespectful to you?"   Answer:  "No."  Honestly, I think my brother could have robbed a Brink's truck, but as long as he showed respect to the people who nabbed him, Dad would have been okay with that.  (Doug got probation.)

Some of my favorite Dr. Phil shows deal with "moochers"--usually adult children of parents who let them live at home and pay their bills without getting anything in return.  Often, I fairly scream at the TV.  The "children" involved almost always exhibit a sense of entitlement: " I didn't ask to be born.  You owe me because you love me."  They feel entitled to have what they have when they want it because they can.  I laugh.  But really, it's not funny.  This sort of thing is epidemic in America!

I am old now.  My daddy isn't here to tell me how things should be. I taught teenagers and pre-teens for 40 years and have put my share of disrespect in the holster of the job, but I'm retired.  No one speaks disrespectfully to me now but my daughter.  Whaaat??  Why is this?   It happens at least once each visit--and it floors me.  I guess I feel that I am entitled--have earned the right to be treated with respect.  I am the one who has always been there for her.  And I am 100% sure that the reason she feels comfortable enough to talk back to me is that we are close.  She doesn't talk to her father this way, even though he deserves it more than I.  I am the chosen one. 

In one encounter, my daughter was frustrated.  (Not a good thing.)  She opened up the freezer door in her kitchen and a pizza fell out.  She threw it back in, which started an avalanche of a couple of other things to fall out.  She snarled and threw them all back in and slammed the door of the refrigerator, at which  point, I watched the very expensive Nikon camera perched on top rock back and forth.  Fortunately, it didn't fall to the floor.  Instinctively, I yelled, "Not a good idea, Meg!"  She immediately went off on me.  I had no right to treat her like a child (even though she was behaving like one)--and so it went.  And so it has gone several other times.  Somehow, she always assumes the worst of me.  Her sense of entitlement battles mine.   

Does this child of mine not understand that I have no choice but to respect her decisions?  Does she think that everything I say is measured against what she thinks or feels?  Does she think I'm going to blow her cover?  I don't know.  What I do know is that society in general is fraught with a sense of entitlement--you owe me because the current standard is more than I can provide for myself.  I think we are due for an implosion.  The Greatest Generation worked their buns off to provide for the Baby Boomers.  The Baby Boomers struggled to provide what they could, but it was less than the Greatest Generation could.  And now what do we have?  I'm still trying to figure it out.

I don't need things that the rest of the world feels entitled to.  I don't even need respect, really, except from the people I love and give to, unselfishly.  Am I entitled to that?  I think so.  If others don't, then I need not be around them.  The world sure is different than when my dad ruled it.  I wish we had some of that back....