It seems that I've taken a rather long vacation from blogging. One month and three days to be exact. It feels like so much longer than that though. The writer and English freak in me has been writhing and screaming to get out since about week two of my blogging lapse, and is now beyond my control. So here I am finally with time to give in to my questionable cravings that consist only of words and the repetitive clicking of computer keys.
It has been one week and two days since school has ended. I will have you all know that I have successfully made it through my sophomore year of high school with minimal damage. But anyway, summer is here now however and I can't quite bare the thought of school at the moment so I will not expand on any of that just yet. Right now I have a story to tell; a dilemma if you will. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, and I can't come up with any plausible answers, so I figured that I'd ask all of you lovely bloggers out there your opinion on the matter.
Children are supposed to respect their parents. They are supposed to obey their parents. They are supposed to listen, perform, and behave as their parents wish. That's just how things work. Parents have the power, and that's fine. But what happens when they purposefully abuse that power over their children? What can the child do? These questions presented themselves after I heard a very disturbing story one night from my closest friend, and I'm having trouble trying to answer them by myself.
That night, my friend, her boyfriend, and I had just arrived at a Chinese restaurant after departing from a rather boring graduation party. Now let me tell you, the Fiji Express is quite the bustling place at 9p.m. on a Friday night. All of one car was there when we pulled up, and I'm pretty sure that was just one of the employees. But that's to be expected when you live in a small southern town like us. Not to say that the cuisine wasn't delicious, but when the people behind the counter look more Latino than Asian, you can pretty much bet that you are receiving the most American-ified Asian food ever, which is why MOST Chinese food-craving people would rather just go down the street to the Chinese buffet where you can get the "real stuff". You know, the place where they offer the fifteen types of shellfish you've never heard of, the fish on a stick that's still twitching when you put it on your plate, and of course the always tasty pig intestine. Personally, I'd rather just have my cheap chicken and rice thank you very much, which is why we opted for Fiji Express's small, scruffy-looking ramshackle shack instead of Great Wall's impeccably plastered square fortress.
Throughout the whole getting there, walking in, ordering, and picking out a booth process, my friend 'Savannah' had been in unusually low spirits. She and her boyfriend of almost two years, 'Drew', couldn't stop arguing. With both of them being my friends, I had refused to take sides all night, but in my mind I was really starting to sympathize with Drew. Savannah, the usually always cheerful, easy to please and hilariously funny girl was being impossible to him. She had a problem with everything that night. Where he sat, what he said, what food he ordered, his drink, his attitude, EVERYTHING. So when we finally got settled into our booth at the back of the restaurant, I, being my confrontation-hating self, did my best to lighten her mood, which I'm usually pretty good at since I know her so well. But that night she would not be charmed. She stayed in low spirits the whole meal, until I finally just stopped trying.
When we had finally finished our food and were giving our leftovers over to the bottomless pit that is Drew, (Another plus of small, cheap shacks: one plate of food could feed a small army. They don't mess around with their portion size.) I asked Savannah point blank what the heck was going on with her. The answer I got made me angrier than I've been in a very long time.
Drew was graduating the next day from a high school in the county next to ours, and Savannah had of course been planning on attending this momentous occasion. She and Drew had been together forever in teenage dating terms, and naturally it was very important to her that she see him graduate. She told me that she had made her mother aware of the date that it was happening (June 4th) many months in advance so that she would be sure to not plan anything on that day, and she said her mother had agreed to let her go. Savannah then went on to say that this past week she had been eating breakfast when her mother walked in to the kitchen and promptly told her to remember that she had to take the SAT test on June 4th.
"But Mom," she had said, "that's the day Drew is graduating."
"Oh I know, but this will be better for you than going to that." her mother had replied offhandedly.
At this point in the story, I could barely keep my seat. I was so angered by her mother's spitefulness. She had knowingly made it so that Savannah couldn't go to Drew's graduation. One thing you all should know, is that Savannah's mother has wanted her to break up with Drew for a while now. None of us are sure why. The two of them have never gotten into trouble, they are always on time for curfew, and Drew is nothing but respectful towards both of her parents. Neither of them smoke, neither of them drink, and Drew is a good guy towards Savannah. He treats her right and respects her. The only thing I can come up with that might be a problem for her mother is the age difference between them. Savannah is sixteen, while Drew is eighteen, and I can understand her mother being uncomfortable with this, but why then didn't she say anything about that two years ago when they first started seeing each other? Why did she even let them date? Why would she let them stay together so long and then change her mind?
After hearing her story, Drew and I fully understood Savannah's bad temper. Both of us were beside ourselves with anger and frustration. But what could she do? She respected her mother too much to ever just plainly disobey her. She would have to miss Drew's graduation, a once in a lifetime thing, to take the SAT, which you can take once every month or so. The injustice of the whole thing still lights a fire in me even today.
What I'm still trying to figure out is, did she have a choice? Was her mother so much in the wrong that it wouldn't have been so horrible for Savannah to deliberately disobey her? As kids do we even have rights when it comes to our parent's decisions?
I arrived home that evening to an empty house (Both of my parents, my brother, and two of his little friends and their families were at the lake for the weekend, and I had been given the choice of staying home on my own for a few nights or accompanying them for three days of fun with three eleven-year-olds, one five year old, and a bunch of middle-aged beer-loving folks all crammed in a tiny lakeside cabin. Needless to say I politely declined that incredibly tempting invitation in favor of the companionship of my dog and the television.) and called my mother to tell her Savannah's story. She one hundred percent agreed with me, and got angry herself at poor Savannah's predicament. I told her that I was at the point where I wanted to tell Savannah to just go to the graduation anyway, regardless of her mom's rules, but that I knew she just couldn't. My mom was at a loss for words, torn between her role as a fellow mother and being completely on Savannah's side. The whole thing was just a mess.
Savannah, being the good daughter that she is, went that next day and took her test, and didn't even get the opportunity to see Drew that day at all. How in the world a mother could be so shamelessly cruel is beyond me.
Parents are wonderful, don't get me wrong. They brought us into this world and cared for and nurtured us from the beginnings of our existence, which makes it natural that they be the ones that are in charge. But is it possible that they sometimes abuse this power? And if they do, is there anything the children can really do about it? Kids have rights, yes, but do those rights extend to their parents as well? Do we really have a choice? I wish I knew.
"Children do not constitute anyone's property: they are neither the property of their parents nor even of society. They belong only to their own future freedom." - Mikhail Bakunin
