Post by Willow on Sept 7, 2015 16:28:43 GMT 9.5
Celia Lashlie: what boys want, more than anything, is the eyes of their fathers upon them
To a snapshot of modern life, as I sit writing with the laptop balanced on the steering wheel of a car parked by a soccer pitch on a bitter evening.
A father, a stranger, is dropping off his teenage son. The middle-aged man reaches across his gear stick and wraps his son’s head in a great galumph of a bear hug and kisses him with a big, silly smackarooni of delight. The boy brushes it off – daaa-aaaad – but gee it’s beautiful to watch. His father cannot see the lad’s smile as he jumps from the car; the abashed chuff of the grin. The secret delight in it.
That boy is lucky, as is his love-brimmed dad. The edicts of fatherhood have changed dramatically over the past few generations and we’re all the better for it. Fathers are stepping into a role more present, compassionate, involved; more openly affectionate and embracing of their children. That image of the distant and removed breadwinner of few, bottled words is a sepia one now. Social advocate and author Celia Lashlie said that adolescent boys want, more than anything, the eyes of their fathers upon them. Will do anything for them to be noticed; some will even go to jail to catch their father’s attention.
Many childhood experts talk about the metaphorical bridge that teenage boys walk across into adulthood – and that mothers have to get the hell off it. Stand back, stop the hovering, the overprotective nurturing; let their boys walk on that bridge themselves. But for the men in their lives, well, it’s time for them to step up and give them the gift of their attention; the balm of requited love. At a parenting talk, Lashlie turned to the scattering of males in the packed auditorium and said passionately, “Men, stand up. Please. It’s your turn. Stand up where your boys can see you. Sons will walk on broken glass for their dads.”
Yet this generation of fathers seems lost, too, in the fullness of their loneliness. Those middle-aged men sandwiched between the austere parenting codes of their fathers and the looser, more present and emotionally engaged males a generation younger than them; men who now find work and family eating up all their time. A recent study from the mental health charity Beyondblue found that millions of Australian men are becoming increasingly lonely after they turn 30. One in four men between 30 and 65 have few or no social connections, and a great roar of loneliness and social isolation is common among them. It’s the age of loneliness.
The weight of responsibility during these middle years can be savagely isolating. Life crowds in with all its incessant demands and social media brews feelings of inadequacy, envy and rage. Beyondblue chairman Jeff Kennett said: “We should be getting the message out to men and their partners that as they go through these changes they shouldn’t lose contact with the things that give them the balance in their life.” Like mates, sport, social groups. In Australia, according to the latest ABS figures, three out of four people who died by suicide were males; with the exception of those aged 85 and above, the highest rates were among men in their middle years (40 to 54).
Lashlie said that within all the demands of life, the middle-aged father should definitely be on the bridge with their teenage son, even if that just meant taking five minutes each day to talk to him; asking how his day was, showing an interest. “The sad thing about dads was that they thought they had to be something different,” she explained. “They don’t – they just have to be who they are. They’re just Dad. It’s enough.” She added that when she asked teenage boys what was the one thing, more than anything, that they want from their fathers, it was “to have their sense of humour back”. Ah, so back to that silly, love-brimmed soccer kiss. And I suspect that father, actually, may have needed it more than his son.
I don't know who Celia Lashlee is but she has the right of it ..
To a snapshot of modern life, as I sit writing with the laptop balanced on the steering wheel of a car parked by a soccer pitch on a bitter evening.
A father, a stranger, is dropping off his teenage son. The middle-aged man reaches across his gear stick and wraps his son’s head in a great galumph of a bear hug and kisses him with a big, silly smackarooni of delight. The boy brushes it off – daaa-aaaad – but gee it’s beautiful to watch. His father cannot see the lad’s smile as he jumps from the car; the abashed chuff of the grin. The secret delight in it.
That boy is lucky, as is his love-brimmed dad. The edicts of fatherhood have changed dramatically over the past few generations and we’re all the better for it. Fathers are stepping into a role more present, compassionate, involved; more openly affectionate and embracing of their children. That image of the distant and removed breadwinner of few, bottled words is a sepia one now. Social advocate and author Celia Lashlie said that adolescent boys want, more than anything, the eyes of their fathers upon them. Will do anything for them to be noticed; some will even go to jail to catch their father’s attention.
Many childhood experts talk about the metaphorical bridge that teenage boys walk across into adulthood – and that mothers have to get the hell off it. Stand back, stop the hovering, the overprotective nurturing; let their boys walk on that bridge themselves. But for the men in their lives, well, it’s time for them to step up and give them the gift of their attention; the balm of requited love. At a parenting talk, Lashlie turned to the scattering of males in the packed auditorium and said passionately, “Men, stand up. Please. It’s your turn. Stand up where your boys can see you. Sons will walk on broken glass for their dads.”
Yet this generation of fathers seems lost, too, in the fullness of their loneliness. Those middle-aged men sandwiched between the austere parenting codes of their fathers and the looser, more present and emotionally engaged males a generation younger than them; men who now find work and family eating up all their time. A recent study from the mental health charity Beyondblue found that millions of Australian men are becoming increasingly lonely after they turn 30. One in four men between 30 and 65 have few or no social connections, and a great roar of loneliness and social isolation is common among them. It’s the age of loneliness.
The weight of responsibility during these middle years can be savagely isolating. Life crowds in with all its incessant demands and social media brews feelings of inadequacy, envy and rage. Beyondblue chairman Jeff Kennett said: “We should be getting the message out to men and their partners that as they go through these changes they shouldn’t lose contact with the things that give them the balance in their life.” Like mates, sport, social groups. In Australia, according to the latest ABS figures, three out of four people who died by suicide were males; with the exception of those aged 85 and above, the highest rates were among men in their middle years (40 to 54).
Lashlie said that within all the demands of life, the middle-aged father should definitely be on the bridge with their teenage son, even if that just meant taking five minutes each day to talk to him; asking how his day was, showing an interest. “The sad thing about dads was that they thought they had to be something different,” she explained. “They don’t – they just have to be who they are. They’re just Dad. It’s enough.” She added that when she asked teenage boys what was the one thing, more than anything, that they want from their fathers, it was “to have their sense of humour back”. Ah, so back to that silly, love-brimmed soccer kiss. And I suspect that father, actually, may have needed it more than his son.
I don't know who Celia Lashlee is but she has the right of it ..