I remember, when I was 3 years old, obtaining a sudden interest in dinosaurs. I had no idea that my mother had been waiting for it. That very day, the house began its transformation into all things Jurassic. And Triassic. And Cretaceous. Pictures of dinosaurs would go up on the wall. I would begin to find books about dinosaurs strewn on the floor and sofas. Mom would even couch dinner as “dinosaur food,” and we would spend hours laughing our heads off trying to make dinosaur sounds. And then, suddenly, I would lose interest in dinosaurs, because some friend at school acquired an interest in spaceships and rockets and galaxies. Extraordinarily, my mother was waiting. Just as quickly as my whim changed, the house would begin its transformation from big dinosaurs to Big Bang. The reptilian posters came down, and in their places, planets would begin to hang from the walls. I would find little pictures of satellites in the bathroom. Mom even got “space coins” from bags of potato chips, and I eventually gathered all of them into a collector’s book.
This happened over and over again in my childhood. I got an interest in Greek mythology, and she transformed the house into Mount Olympus. My interests careened into geometry, and the house became Euclidean, then cubist. Rocks, airplanes. By the time I was 8 or 9, I was creating my own house transformations.
One day, around age 14, I declared to my mother that I was an atheist. She was a devoutly religious person, and I thought this announcement would crush her. Instead, she said something like, “That’s nice, dear,” as if I had just declared I no longer liked nachos. The next day, she sat me down by the kitchen table, a wrapped package in her lap. She said calmly, “So, I hear you are now an atheist. Is that true?” I nodded yes, and she smiled. She placed the package in my hands. “The man’s name is Friedrich Nietzsche, and the book is called Twilight of the Idols,” she said. “If you are going to be an atheist, be the best one out there! Bon appetit!”
I was stunned. But I understood a powerful message: Curiosity itself was the most important thing. And what I was interested in mattered. I have never been able to turn off this fire hose of curiosity.
As I’ve mentioned in other comments here at LW, I’m a “closet atheist” in a fundamentalist (Jehovah’s Witnesses) family that will shun me if they knew. I also have a 2 year old daughter. I spend large parts of my waking hours considering questions like:
“If I just come out and tell my wife and family that I’m an atheist and that I think they’re wasting my life, will I increase my chances or decrease my chances of preventing my daughter from being indoctrinated?”
It causes me so much anguish when I hear my daughter say something about god, or when I hear her grandparents explain to her something in nature as “god did it”.
Oh. :( You are in a bad situation. Three years ago it would be so easier to fix it.
I guess your chances depend on personality of your wife, and the relationship between you two. Though your wife will be under pressure from others. The worst case: she decides to leave you, and you pretty much never see her or your daughter again. (Actually, the really worst case is the same thing happening later, with two or more children.)
Are there other options besides submission and open confrontation? For example passive resistance: you remain a JW, but a very lazy one. But maybe you are already doing it.
I would recommend to teach your daughter about nature. Or just teach her to think; doing maths is better than thinking about angels. Show her there is an interesting world out there. Don’t oppose the religion openly, but don’t support it either. Support her in being a lazy JW; to do what must be done to keep others happy, but not take it seriously.
If possible, it could be strategic to somehow increase the geographical distance between you and the most influential JWs. For example if there is a good job opportunity.
Also, show many interesting (not openly atheist) things to your wife. Whatever; even if you both learn programming, then you have another topic to talk about which does not include religion, and which she shares with you but not with the rest of the cult. (Generally, instead of opposing religion, just focus on the rest of the world.)
Yeah, prior to having a kid, I was content to just live my life as a lazy JW, but my attitude changed more than I predicted it would after having a child.
I’ve been on the lazy JW route for years, and most days it’s what I think is the least bad choice before me. The issue arises on days where I hear others talking to my daughter about god and whatnot and hearing her parrot back those types of things. It’s very difficult to hear.
But anyway, yes, you give some good advice. Sometimes it’s just nice to commiserate.
I think the difference is that she provided resources to allow him to explore his curiosity. A helicopter parent would have chosen the interests, and then chosen the way in which those interests were explored.
Yep, that’s the “too far”: with things one is enthusiastic about (like one’s children), it’s not too hard to get a little carried away, and, for example, emphasise this interest a little much, or attempt to guide the child into that interest which the parent sees as “better”.
I thought so. Reviews on Amazon.com are great. I noticed Derek Sivers gave it a 6⁄10 so I emailed him. He said he loved it and isn’t sure why he gave it a 6 instead of an 8 or a 9. I would give it a 9. It has been absolutely formative to the way I think about thinking and learning.
Encourage curiosity
In the book Brain Rules John Medina writes:
I want to be that mom. (Except for the devoutly religious part.)
This actually brought tears to my eyes.
As I’ve mentioned in other comments here at LW, I’m a “closet atheist” in a fundamentalist (Jehovah’s Witnesses) family that will shun me if they knew. I also have a 2 year old daughter. I spend large parts of my waking hours considering questions like:
“If I just come out and tell my wife and family that I’m an atheist and that I think they’re wasting my life, will I increase my chances or decrease my chances of preventing my daughter from being indoctrinated?”
It causes me so much anguish when I hear my daughter say something about god, or when I hear her grandparents explain to her something in nature as “god did it”.
Oh. :( You are in a bad situation. Three years ago it would be so easier to fix it.
I guess your chances depend on personality of your wife, and the relationship between you two. Though your wife will be under pressure from others. The worst case: she decides to leave you, and you pretty much never see her or your daughter again. (Actually, the really worst case is the same thing happening later, with two or more children.)
Are there other options besides submission and open confrontation? For example passive resistance: you remain a JW, but a very lazy one. But maybe you are already doing it.
I would recommend to teach your daughter about nature. Or just teach her to think; doing maths is better than thinking about angels. Show her there is an interesting world out there. Don’t oppose the religion openly, but don’t support it either. Support her in being a lazy JW; to do what must be done to keep others happy, but not take it seriously.
If possible, it could be strategic to somehow increase the geographical distance between you and the most influential JWs. For example if there is a good job opportunity.
Also, show many interesting (not openly atheist) things to your wife. Whatever; even if you both learn programming, then you have another topic to talk about which does not include religion, and which she shares with you but not with the rest of the cult. (Generally, instead of opposing religion, just focus on the rest of the world.)
Yeah, prior to having a kid, I was content to just live my life as a lazy JW, but my attitude changed more than I predicted it would after having a child.
I’ve been on the lazy JW route for years, and most days it’s what I think is the least bad choice before me. The issue arises on days where I hear others talking to my daughter about god and whatnot and hearing her parrot back those types of things. It’s very difficult to hear.
But anyway, yes, you give some good advice. Sometimes it’s just nice to commiserate.
Wow.
This is really really awesome!
But it could easily become “helicopter parenting” if pushed too far.
I think the difference is that she provided resources to allow him to explore his curiosity. A helicopter parent would have chosen the interests, and then chosen the way in which those interests were explored.
And put the child in all sorts of extracurricular activities perhaps related to those interests.
Yep, that’s the “too far”: with things one is enthusiastic about (like one’s children), it’s not too hard to get a little carried away, and, for example, emphasise this interest a little much, or attempt to guide the child into that interest which the parent sees as “better”.
Is the rest of this book as good as that selection?
I thought so. Reviews on Amazon.com are great. I noticed Derek Sivers gave it a 6⁄10 so I emailed him. He said he loved it and isn’t sure why he gave it a 6 instead of an 8 or a 9. I would give it a 9. It has been absolutely formative to the way I think about thinking and learning.
Great to know—thanks!