In the Name of Parenthood
Written on Thursday night, but published as I enjoy time away from my computer on Friday.
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As the troublemaker/guinea pig in my immediate family, I’ve had the special privilege of enduring punishments and ceremonies that my siblings have easily escaped. As the first-born female, I’ve been the one who experiences the most pressure to conform and to be the role-model for my younger sister. Unfortunately, mild rebellion (mild in comparison to my cousins) has been my calling card, so I suppose you could call me a disappointment to my family. It took me quite a while to reach the status of rebel, though – for years I was too scared to do anything outside of my parents’ approval. However, for your consideration, here are a list of things my parents have put me through, and things through which I’ve put the poor dopes.
*At age 8, I was invited to a birthday part that specifically said that we’d be going roller skating after the party, so the kids would be home around ten or eleven o’clock. When I returned home that night, I found that my parents had been canvasing the neighborhood for me, thinking I’d been kidnapped by my friend’s family (whom they didn’t like and called "white trash"). Even when I pointed out the invitation’s lettering, they told me I was in the wrong and was grounded for a month. My brother, of course, did this with regularity (from age 6 and up) and was never grounded. In fact, I’m the only sibling who has been grounded. Ever. Screwed out of playtime.
*Around age 10, when my parents decided (out of nowhere) to move to Mexico permanently, my mother got it in her head that I needed to do my first communion. Having lived in the States for nearly all of my ten years, I balked at going to catechism every day and church every Sunday. I was not accustomed to being exposed to so much religion; hell, we lived down the road from a Catholic church for years and never went regularly. However, because I was at the age when I was still afraid of my mother, I went to catechism and learned all the questions by rote (there was no devotion in my memorization), and the more I was put through this the more I doubted the Church’s authority (for example, why weren’t we reading the Bible? why these books full of questions and answers found only church doctrine, not the Bible?). I skipped a couple of times, but was ultimately forced to complete the damn thing and go through my first communion. From that point on, I was forced to confess every month to the local priest (who was sketchy, yo) until we moved back to the States. Being the only sibling who can receive communion has not been a pleasant thing – my siblings still tease me about getting screwed out of valuable playtime again.
*At age 13, while in Mexico, a guy took a fancy to me (hey, Alvaro, how goes it?) and I, flattered, took a fancy to him. While at my cousin’s graduation party, he asked me to dance. We had a great time and danced all night, chatting away as the hours passed. My mother, however, had cautioned me to not dance while at this party, saying that I was much too young and that it would lead to SEX!. When my mother found out, she was furious, and I became the village whore for a few days (yeah, it’s that bad, people; my cousins get knocked up, it’s normal – I dance, I’m the Whore of Babylon). I wasn’t grounded, but I was warned to never speak to the guy again. I did speak to him again, but I later dumped him when I found out he was cheating on me.
*When I was 16, High School Friend L invited the gang over to her house to watch "Muriel’s Wedding" and few other movies. I told my parents (again, specifically) that we’d be watching movies and that I would be home late – like 12am, 1am late. They barely acknowledged me but nodded. I thought I was in the clear. I went to L’s house, had a great time, then came home to an angry father saying that I was a horrible daughter for staying out that late. Yup, we were boozing and prostituting ourselves in L’s living room, Dad. They tried grounding me from the phone, but as my friends and I communicated in person at school, it had no effect. Heh. They’re losing their power. So I thought.
*At age 18, I dated a guy for about five months, but I kept him secret from my parents because I knew they would freak. One night we went out – coincidentally, that’s the night my parents found out about him. Uh-oh. They’d call my dorm room every half-hour and bug my roommates to see if I had returned from my date. They even went to High School Friend B’s house to look for me (why, I don’t know). They attempted to ground me, but at 18, that doesn’t work as well.
Yeah, they’ve had some weird reasonings for what they’ve done, and most involve me remaining a pristine virgin. I guess it’s the Catholic in combo with the Mexican patriarchal structure that causes them to act so wildly. They’ve evolved a bit because we’re not surrounded by extended family, and because I’ve challenged their limits by demonstrating that I keep myself safe (even if it’s not their idea of ‘safe.’). They still treat me like a child, but realize that their ultimate approval really isn’t my motivating factor in life anymore (so while they have the power to annoy me, they pretty much realize that that’s as far as it goes). They’re great parents on the whole if a little paranoid. But hey, at least I giggle when I remember these incidents – just as long as they don’t try to repeat them ever.