<p>Parents -</p>
<p>I'd like to offer a first-person account of what the parental obsession with the intellectual merits or demerits of their children can wreak upon a child. I think it's fair to say that, during my high school years, I became one of those "dream kids" about whom you all fantasize. I was one of the two academic stars in my small class, and developed into an unapologetic ivory-tower type intellectual (which I still am to a large extent). My parents never saw anything below an A- on a report card, and mostly saw strings of untainted A's. My teachers and administrators loved me, and put their faith in my future. I started reading philosophy during sophomore year, accumulated a large body of knowledge, and am now studying the subject at Berkeley. Now, what could possibly be wrong with this all-too-perfect picture?</p>
<p>Before college, I had lived with my mother since my parents split in '88. She had always seen the budding intellectual spirit in me, and was delighted to see it come to the fore during high school. Come junior year, and the beginning of the college process, it was clear to her, and to me, that I would apply to selective schools where I could explore my academic interests in an intellectual environment. </p>
<p>Enter into the picture my girlfriend, whose list of schools matched mine only in that some of mine were near (geographically) to some of hers. When my mother realized that I <em>might</em> be taking geography into account in making college decisions when the first letters began to arrive, the pressure was on from her end. She constantly reminded me that I needed <em>only</em> to consider the academic merits of schools in making my decision (of course not in so many words), and warned me vaguely about "passing up opportunities." Of course, <em>none</em> of the schools on my list were "bad" schools, even the safeties. She developed a completely erroneous conception of my girlfriend as someone who was pressuring me to go to school near her (untrue) and, de facto, as someone who was trying to hinder my "intellectual development." My mother's tremendously incorrect assumptions led to a gigantic rift in my relationship with my girlfriend, and to great confusion on my part.</p>
<p>But the story only <em>begins</em> here. I have Crohn's disease, which, for the uninitiated, is an autoimmune condition that causes the immune system to attack the intestines, leading to inflammation, internal bleeding, pain that you can't even begin to imagine, and other symptoms that decency prevents me from describing. Stress has a nasty tendency to aggravate the condition, and even to cause it to come out of remission. The rest of the story should be predictable at this point, but I'll tell it anyway. As pressure from my mother mounted, I sank into a confused misery. She was so intent that I go to the "right" school that I began to wonder what her motives were. My mother flunked out of Stanford, so that entered my mind - could she be (<em>gasp</em>) LIVING HER UNFULFILLED DREAMS THROUGH ME? No, impossible, parents <em>never</em> do that. Now, to be fair, it also entered my mind that some desire to promote my best interest was probably a factor in her behavior. But this is exactly my point - your kids' best interest isn't always what you perceive it to be. So, anyway, the time came to visit two schools in April '04, one in the midwest and one on the east coast. By now, she and I had clashed many a time on the subject of where I would attend. I was miserable, and so was she, and I was doing everything I could to avoid her company. And, I was beginning to feel a sickeningly familiar pain in my gut. Each day, it got worse, but I didn't tell her, for fear that she would accuse me of trying to circumvent the trip out east on trumped up medical grounds. I had no symptoms yet to prove that I was getting sick. As the stress mounted, the pain intensified, and when we left, it was obvious that I was down for the count. By the time we got to Chicago, I had plunged into the depths of what would become my worst bout with my disease, a bout whose magnitude I could never have predicted. For the rest of 2004, I struggled almost daily, and, of course, I ended up going to Berkeley because I needed to be near home and near my doctor, in case I needed to leave school. The disease, having come out of remission and refusing to be controlled, completely ruined my first semester, and contributed to a profoundly lonely, isolated, and miserable existence. During week eight, I had to go home and become a commuter while trying to control the disease. Now, finally, I've achieved a great measure of control, but control has only come with a transition to the most powerful drug that a Crohn's patient can receive.</p>
<p>Are parents evil? No, of course not; most have their children's best interest in mind. But I caution all of you, because even the smallest amount of stress put on a kid can have tremendous effects that you may not immediately perceive. It takes time for the effects to build up. Parents need to take a step back and evaluate the whole child, not only the mental child. If I didn't love philosophy the way I do, I would almost say that I'd prefer to have been a more run-of-the-mill teenager, and have gone to parties, drank a little, experienced life a little more than I did. I missed out on a lot in high school - though I wouldn't go back and change it - because of my intense desire to find answers to the questions that have always plagued people. I have a perspective that most kids don't have, and I can provide you with a perspective that your kids probably won't give you, and my point is that a kid might be perfectly happy with his 2.8, and might turn out to be an adult remembered for his good heart and creativity; I've known much better people than myself who had just such happiness.</p>