Katherine Kersten is a Senior Fellow for Cultural Studies
at the Center of the American Experiment, columnist for the
Star Tribune, and co-author of "Close to Home." Katherine is
said to be one of the "wisest and most tenacious"
commentators in America today.
Here, by popular demand, and forwarded with her
permission are the notes from her presentation at the
Catholic Parents OnLine Brunch on April 1, 2000.
“Why does Catholic Parents OnLine exist? If you want a
one-line answer, it might be this: Because it’s really
hard to raise kids today. Parents who want to raise
their children in the truth, to fulfill their obligation
to God to rear their sons and daughters as virtuous,
godly and pure of heart – parents like us -- are under
siege. To do our job, we need to know who one another
is, and on a regular basis, give one another council and
support.
Just how hard is it to raise kids today?
In the last 10 days, I saw two signs of the times,
which are emblematic of what we parents are up against.
Last week, Cosmopolitan magazine surpassed TV Guide
to become the nation’s largest selling newsstand
publication. (Cosmo is, by the way, the largest selling
women’s magazine in the world.)
On Sunday, American Beauty swept the Oscars, winning
5, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best
Screenplay, Best Actor, and Best Cinematography.
American Beauty, of course, is the story of a
middle-aged man’s disillusionment with suburban life,
and his attempt to find emotional and spiritual
fulfillment through sex with a high school cheerleader.
Let me give you the flavor of the movie. It opens
with Jane, the middle-aged main character’s daughter,
asking her boyfriend to kill her father. We see her
father masturbating several times, and her mother having
bizarre, adulterous sex. There’s a scene in which the
father gleefully smokes marijuana in a parking lot.
Next, we see Jane’s cheerleader friend encouraging her
to speculate on the size of her father’s sexual organ,
and Jane herself baring her breasts to the teen-age
voyeur-next-door as he videotapes her. And of course,
there are countless scenes of Jane’s forty-something
father lusting, in various ways, after her nubile young
friend.
Now wait a minute, some might say, yeah, that’s all
in there, but American Beauty is rated R; it’s an adult
movie, made for adults; kids can’t get in to see it.
Well, that’s balderdash. According to the New York
Times, filmmakers are encouraged by the fact that “the
youngest audiences” are embracing American Beauty, and
other films of its kind. I quote:
“What is particularly surprising – and encouraging –
to moviemakers is that there seems to be a greater
crossover [this year] than in previous years between the
films earning critical kudos and Oscar nominations and
the films that are embraced enthusiastically by the
youngest, hippest audiences. “The thing we kept hearing
when we were preparing American Beauty is that teenagers
just won’t go see a movie unless it has nothing but
teenagers in it,” said Dan Jinks, one of American
Beauty’s producers. Not close to true, it turns out.
Movies like American Beauty, that in theory should have
had greater appeal to older audiences, drew [an]
enormous audience of young people.”
What’s happened to America? When those of us with
teenagers think back to our own childhood, we remember
My Friend Flicka and Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of
Color and My Three Sons. We remember the Legion of
Decency. When I was 17, Midnight Cowboy, which now
appears laughably tame, received an X, a rating that
Hollywood saw as the kiss of death. My parents would no
more have given me permission to see it than sail a boat
alone across the Atlantic.
Well, what’s happened since the 1960’s is complex.
But in the last 40 years, we’ve learned one thing for
sure: Ideas have consequences. In the 1960’s, for
example, the American people decided – for the first
time – that it’s OK to have a baby out of wedlock. Not
surprisingly, in a period of a few short years, our
nation’s out-of-wedlock birthrate soared from something
like 5% to 33% today.
Now, I suggest that if we want to understand the
genesis of the contemporary moral decline, we need to
understand a fundamental shift that’s occurred over the
last 40 years in the way that we Americans understand a
very important idea, the idea of freedom – an idea
central to our nation since its inception.
To get some perspective, let’s go back, as a
reference point, to a time shortly before the 1960’s;
let’s say to 1943, the year my father graduated from
Notre Dame. At Notre Dame in 1943, education consisted
of inculcating classical liberal learning in the context
of the Catholic faith. Where social matters were
concerned, there were lots of rules. Lights went out at
10:00 p.m. If you were caught coming out of a downtown
bar, you could expect to be expelled. Needless to say,
there were no female visitors in dorm rooms.
Many today, especially kids, might look at my dad’s
college years and say, “Yuck, your dad was really
repressed. He had no freedom at all.” (Like, none)
Nothing could be farther from the truth. The fact is,
in 1943, education at Notre Dame was structured with one
goal in mind: to prepare my father for freedom – freedom
of the best and highest kind.
[What do I mean?] The education my dad received at
Notre Dame was a self-consciously liberal education,
which means, an education designed to liberate -- to
free -- the human mind and spirit. What did this
education seek to liberate students from? Liberation
from slavery to their desires, their impulses, and their
petty self-absorption. Its goal was to liberate their
reason, and to awaken them to the good, the true and the
beautiful.
Traditional Catholic liberal education was grounded
in a very particular idea of freedom: what I call
“freedom for” – positive freedom – as distinguished from
license. It is what the English political philosopher
Lord Acton characterized as “freedom to live as we
ought, not as we will.”
Positive freedom is the freedom of the moral being,
the moral agent, created in the image of God. It is the
freedom to pursue the truth; the universal and
transcendent truth that Scripture tells us will set us
free. Positive freedom is the freedom that undergirds
the American political regime of ordered liberty. It is
the freedom of the adult, the freedom of the Christian.
Today, however, many in our society – chief among
them, the editors of Cosmopolitan magazine and the Oscar
nominating committee -- reject the understanding of
freedom that under girded my father’s education at Notre
Dame. Rather than “freedom for,” rather than positive
freedom, today American opinion leaders seek something
very different: What we might call “freedom from,” or
negative freedom. It is this idea of freedom that
pervades our culture today.
Now, negative freedom is freedom as understood by a
child. To a child, freedom means the ability to go to
bed whenever he wants to, eat as much candy as he wants
to, and tell his teacher exactly what he thinks of her
when she warns him not to barge in line again. (Or in
the case of the characters in American Beauty, freedom
means hopping into bed with your friend’s father if you
want to, or feeling free to partake of whatever the
illegal drug du jour might be.)
Negative freedom is freedom from rules, from limits.
It is the freedom to do whatever you want to whenever
you want to, unconstrained by moral norms, social
expectations or obligations to others.
Negative freedom rejects the very idea of
transcendent, universal truth. It claims that human
beings must decide for themselves “what’s true for me.”
Negative freedom holds up the Self -- the autonomous
individual -- as the ultimate arbiter of value. It
celebrates self-expression, self-realization, and
self-fulfillment as the authentic goals of human life.
I’ve said that ideas have consequences. What are the
consequences of the negative concept of freedom that has
seized center stage in America over the last 40 years?
Obviously, freedom understood as “I’ve got to be me”
lies at the heart of many of our nation’s most troubling
social problems: from the breakdown of the family to the
extraordinary coarsening of our popular culture.
But it’s also implicated in the smaller questions we
encounter in our daily lives, like: why do so many
pleasant, thoughtful and well-behaved parents have kids
who are anything but? Why do our kids have friends whose
parents are wonderful people, and yet can’t discipline
their offspring, even to the point of teaching them
manners? Let me tell you a little anecdote that, I
think, sheds some light on this, and at the same time
makes clear the vital need for organizations like
Catholic Parents OnLine.
When my children were small, I participated in a
parent discussion group for several years. Each year,
the discussion leader would ask, “What do you want most
in life for your son or daughter?” The women in the
group were good people and devoted mothers. But each
year, they would greet this question with indecision.
They would pause and look around, slightly embarrassed.
For a moment, they were speechless. Then, without
exception, they would say the same thing: “I just want
her to be happy.” Everyone would nod, “Yes.”
Occasionally, some particularly venturesome mother would
add, “I want her to fulfill her potential.”
But I could see that, for all their sympathetic
nodding, these mothers weren’t satisfied with this
response. They knew they wanted more for their children,
they just didn’t know exactly how to say it. When my
turn came, I would say this: “I want her to be wise,
kind, just, responsible, courageous, self-reliant,
generous, honest and good. I want her to be a productive
member of society, and to fulfill her responsibilities
as a citizen.” “Yes, yes,” they would say. “That’s what
I want.”
It’s always been difficult to help children develop
into the sort of person I described. But it’s next to
impossible when you don’t know what you’re aiming at,
when you are lacking what the ancient Greeks – the first
great educators – called a paragon, a character ideal.
After all, if your highest goal as a parent is to
ensure that your child’s life is pleasant and that she
has just what she wants, how will you muster the
determination to say no when you need to (in other
words, over and over)? Rather than guiding her and
shaping her character, the very best you will be able to
do as a parent is assist her – in a passive way – to
“muddle through” the problems and temptations life
presents, with no overarching vision of the good life in
mind.
Here, I think, we see one of the most serious
consequences of the negative concept of freedom – that
is, freedom understood as freedom to be me. It is
stripping today’s parents of the categories of thought
and moral framework – of the very words – they need to
raise their children as moral beings.
If you want evidence, spend a few minutes at any
nursery school or public elementary school. Just listen,
see if you hear an adult say to a child,” “Don’t do
that. It’s wrong. It’s wrong to hit.” Most likely, they
say, “Hitting is not OK, it’s inappropriate.” When the
child reaches the teen years, they can’t say, “Having
sex before marriage is harmful and wrong and violates
God’s plan.” The best they can muster is, “Having sex
before you’re ready isn’t healthy – so when you decide
it’s OK, make sure it’s safe sex.”
What a contrast to the vision of man, and the good
life, that prevailed during my father’s years at Notre
Dame. I think it’s both fascinating and vitally
important that we, as parents, understand exactly what
our culture’s lost in the intervening years. And to help
us grasp this, there is no better guide than University
of Chicago psychologist Phillip Rieff. Rieff is the
author of one of the most important books I’ve ever
read, a 1963(?) classic called “The Triumph of the
Therapeutic.” In this seminal book, Rieff explains the
phenomenon I saw in the mother’s group I mentioned a few
minutes ago. He attributes these mothers’ loss of the
language of good and evil to the rise – indeed the
triumph – of psychology, and the psychological vision of
man.
Rieff says that, in the last 40 years, our society’s
model for the organization of personality -- our
paragon, or character ideal -- has undergone a radical
shift. “The Christian model of man,” he says, “dominant
for 1,500 years, has been increasingly replaced by
“psychological man.” The soul has been replaced by the
self.”
Rieff lays out a fascinating contrast between the
Christian and the psychological conception of what it
means to be human. The organizing principle of Christian
character, says Rieff, is faith. Christian life revolves
around the pursuit of Truth and salvation.
One thing always strikes me as I stroll the halls of
public elementary schools. I always see these big signs:
Respect each other. Help others. Be nice. They’re
everywhere. Yet the irony is this: public schools, for
all their well-meaning exhortations, can never tell
children why they should do these things. Why should I
be nice when I’m in a foul mood? Why should I tell the
truth when I’ll be punished for it? The answers are
hardly self-evident. You can tell your children why they
should do these things, and you do tell them. And this
is the most precious knowledge on earth.
Last night, as I was preparing to talk to you, I sat
down and thought about the kinds of things my husband
and I have done as we’ve tried to fulfill our
obligations to God as parents. When we were first
married, we couldn’t wait to have children, but – as we
gazed around us at the popular culture – we approached
our new role with some fear and trembling.
Today, our kids are 16, 14, 13 and 10, and so far,
the road has been smoother than we expected. As I
thought about why, several things came to mind.
First and foremost, we have had a character ideal –
we’ve known all along what sort of human beings we want
our children to become, and we’ve evaluated potential
experiences in light of whether they will contribute to
or detract from our goal.
Second, we’ve tried to put our children in
environments where the morality we try to teach at home
will be reinforced. We’ve tried to find schools, for
example, where they will meet friends whose families
think as we do. There’s an incredible peace of mind in
knowing that when your child goes to a friend’s house
after school or to spend the night, the parents will
have rules, and expectations, similar to your own.
Third, we’ve always tried to remember that education
and entertainment are two sides of the same coin. Today,
many families take education seriously – seeking out the
best teachers, the most challenging courses, monitoring
homework. But they make the mistake of believing that --
when it comes to the way their children spend their free
time – the movies, the video games, the music, the TV
that fill their leisure hours – well, what they do “just
for fun” isn’t all that important. This, I think, is a
gargantuan mistake.
The truth is, what our children watch on Saturday
night profoundly shapes their view of the world, often
teaching lessons more powerful and enduring than those
they learn in school. Entertainment educates by molding
our children’s understanding of what is important, how
the world works, and what behavior society expects of
them.
So, we try to turn off the bad stuff. But then we try
to do something equally important: show them the good
stuff. We have made an effort, for example, not just to
say: You can’t see “The Waterboy.” We say, come on in,
tonight we’re going to see Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca
and Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight or Michael Caine in Zulu
or great foreign films like “The Seven Samurai” and
“Babette’s Feast.” Then, when they see the bad stuff, as
they inevitably will, they will have something to
compare it to – and they will, perhaps grudgingly,
eventually recognize how bad it is.
We’ve also tried to encourage small, but telling
habits.
Every day when young, what good thing did you do today?
Answer the phone.
I do this because my mom did it to me and I still say
it: Yes mom.
Things I’ve tried to say every day: “Remember you are
the temple of the Holy Spirit.”
One more thing: when I find my children paying
attention to the bad stuff that’s out there, I generally
try not to shame them. So many bad things out there,
can’t walk through the grocery store checkout without
being greeted by models in various stages of undress
announcing the secret of latest sexual thrill is within
the pages.
I do not say: shame on you for showing interest; this
is dirty, this is bad. Rather, I understand this
temptation. We are made this way – we are weak, we are
fallen. But we must struggle against temptation. It
calls out to what it weakest and lowest in us, not what
is noblest and most beautiful. It’s like driving by a
grisly accident: we have a prurient curiosity, but we
must struggle against it everyday.
Want to close with this thought. The older I get, the
closer I feel to my grandmother and great-grandmother,
both now long dead. At times, I have wondered at the
ease of my life compared to theirs.
Many years ago, my great-great-grandmother crossed
from Tennessee to Texas in a covered wagon. My
great-grandmother homesteaded in a sod hut that she and
her eight children built in Colorado after my
great-grandfather died. My grandmother started a
business during the Depression to help put her five
children through college. She drove 3,000 miles alone in
a Model T to get it off the ground, and sent three sons
to World War.
In contrast to all this, I look at my life of
relative ease, and ask, “What dangers do I face, what
challenges comparable to theirs?” But in recent years I
have come to realize that each age, each generation has
its challenges. My challenges, though not physically
dangerous like theirs, are every bit as difficult and
demanding.
One might even say that it is more important for our
civilization that we meet our challenges, than that my
great-grandmother met hers. For the greatest challenges
of our age are moral. Confronting them successfully
requires faith, hope, love, courage, vigilance and moral
imagination.
Most of us do not think of ourselves as called to a
life of heroism; few of us will find ourselves
confronted by life-or-death decisions in rare and
dramatic moments of crisis.
But true heroism does not consist so much in this, as
in striving always to do what is right, rather than what
is pleasant, or convenient, or what everyone else is
doing.
Every day we make decisions, large and small, about
how to live our lives, and shape the lives of our
children. It’s so easy to say yes to children, so hard
to say no: “you’re the strictest mother in the world;
Dad, you’ll never understand; all the kids are making
fun of me.” But true heroism is making the right
decisions in moments like these that come over and over
again; even when no one is there to praise and recognize
us for cleaving to what we know God wants.
Catholic OnLine helps parents do this, and for this I
applaud you.”