The Defiant Ones

On May 26, Parkland survivor David Hogg and his fellow protestors lay down on the floor of a Publix supermarket in Florida in protest of the grocery store chain’s continued financial support of Adam Putnam, a politician who described himself as a “proud NRA sellout.” As the protestors chanted “USA not NRA” from their prone positions, store managers were forced to step around them in order to fetch groceries for the customers who could not maneuver their shopping carts through the sea of bodies. Within the hour, Publix had reversed its decision to support Adam Putnam, and announced that it would no longer make political contributions of any kind.

It’s hard not to be impressed by David Hogg. Even those who sneer at him must acknowledge that they wouldn’t even know who to sneer at if his words and actions hadn’t been so effective at provoking them in the wake of the Parkland shooting. Still, as impressed as I am by David Hogg, I can’t help but be equally impressed by his parents and teachers; because if there is one thing I am sure of it is that while this might have been Mr. Hogg’s first public act of civil disobedience, it was certainly not his first act of disobedience ever. In fact, I am positive that he has been practicing his disobedience for years, and more importantly, I am positive that some very important authority figures in his life have been willing to let him practice his disobedience on them. And for that, I would like to thank them for their sacrifice.

It’s not easy to raise a disobedient child. Oh, sure, it’s easy in theory. It’s easy to tell them stories about Rosa Parks, and Gandhi, and even the American Revolution, but there will come a time when you are teaching them to “stand up to The Man” where you will be confronted with the unwelcome realization that, to them, right now you are The Man. And that if there is ever to be any kind of chance for them to grow up to be the type of people who use reason, critical thinking and logic to stand up for themselves and others, then you are going to need to let them practice those skills somewhere. And unfortunately, the safest place to practice those skills is on you—which can be kind of hard to take at the end of a 12 hour work day.

It’s especially hard because most children don’t start their social justice careers by boycotting Nestle. They start by boycotting bathing, or wearing shoes, or something equally gross and infuriating. And it can be difficult, when faced with a trail of muddy footprints throughout your house, to not revert to the old “because I said so” argument when they question whether your need for them to wear shoes is really just you bowing down to the pressures of a society that is too far removed from nature. (Especially when they make that argument with their muddy feet propped up on the coffee table while playing Skyrim.)

Look, I’m not advocating for all out adolescent revolution: households run by children, with parents too fearful of the backlash to contradict them. That isn’t the way to raise productive citizens, (or even decent room-mates). But I do think that it’s okay—in fact, preferable—to have a child who questions your authority, and sometimes wins, then it is to have a child who is completely biddable. Because the day will come when you won’t be the one doing the bidding, and can you really expect someone to “Just Say No” when all of their lives they’ve been told “Don’t Talk Back”?

Our children’s childhood—if they have good genes, take care of themselves, and are a little bit lucky—will last, at best, only a fifth of their lives. Do we really want to set them up to be the guy who was “just following orders” for the bulk of their existence? I don’t think so. In fact, I think a little parental pain is well worth it if it means you get to be the one who has front row seats to seeing this world being nudged (or shoved) in a better direction.

Muddy feet and all.