When I was young, I accepted the rules given to me by my parents, teachers, and the adults in my church. Yet, there were times when I didn’t like what I was being told to do. I remember the night before school began for my senior year at Manchester High. There was going to be a show about the Green Bay Packers that I wanted to watch. I had been able to stay up late and watch television shows all summer, but now my mother said I had to go to bed. I complained, but still got up from my chair and marched upstairs, fuming to myself about the injustice of a return to school nights. This was the era of “Leave it to Beaver” and like Theodore and his brother Wally, I did as my parents directed.
There were two main reasons why I didn’t rebel in an obvious manner. First, there wasn’t a lot to rebel against. By and large, my parents were fair to me and my siblings. There were no unreasonable requirements or unjust punishments handed out. During the summer, I was free to ride my bike, play with friends, walk to Globe Hollow for an afternoon of swimming. There were rules about getting a full night's sleep on school nights and being at school on time. Supper was at an appointed time throughout the year. But little or nothing of rules such as these went against my developing sense of justice. I realized the end of vacation meant getting to bed earlier, even if there was a TV show on the Packers I wanted to watch. If anyone had asked me, I would have admitted this was the right thing to do. After all, my first day of school included cross country practice and I wanted to make the varsity. I knew the rules I had to follow were in my best interests even if I didn't want to admit it.
The other reason I didn’t rebel had to do with my submissive nature as a child and adolescent. It frightened me when grownups got angry. I wanted to stay on their good side. It was easier for me to go along with what they told me to do. Don’t bring unnecessary attention upon yourself might have been my motto. But despite my best efforts, that wasn't always possible.
One summer day, my father told me to be sure to have my paper route covered while we all went away on vacation. A few days before we were to leave, Dad yelled at me when he found out that I hadn't yet done this. I went up to my room, sat at my desk and soon my eyes filled with tears. I don’t remember exactly what the reason was for not following Dad's instructions. It seems to me now that I was still waiting to hear from a kid I had asked to substitute for me. I know it wouldn't have been like me to ignore something important when it came to my paper route. But I didn't speak up for myself and explain what was happening. Instead, I walked away without a word.
A few minutes later, Dad came to my room and when he saw I was crying, he said over and over, “Please don’t cry." He sat down on the bed next to my desk, took my hand in his, pressed it against his forehead and said he was sorry he got mad at me. I was pretty sure he was crying too and this bewildered and alarmed me. I had never intended to disobey my dad, but neither had I done what he expected me to do.
It’s important for young people to follow reasonable directions such as those my father gave me. At the same time, it might have been better for me to rebel a little and speak up right away when he got angry with me. Maybe it would have been better if I had, but being direct with adults was a step I wasn't ready for at the age of 13.
David James Madden