I never once lied, as a child. Well. I take that back. I lied once.
There are things in life, which I cannot resist. Powdered sugar is one of them. So are donuts. When you combine the two, now you’ve created a super food which overpowers every thought in my head if placed within a 50 ft. radius of me. That being said, I was 5 years old and was coming out of my room and into the kitchen, to get ready and have my supper. The food still had a few more minutes to go before it was done, but my mom had placed two small powdered donuts on a Barbie plate, in the middle of our dining room table already. My eyes zoned in on them. A shark, eyeing its prey from underneath…preparing to launch a surprise attack on the unsuspecting. “Yari. Don’t eat the donuts. Those are for after you eat your dinner. Ok?”, said my mother in a soft, but serious tone. I pried my eyes from my delicious goal and reluctantly met my mother’s gaze. I nodded, indicating I understood the instructions. “I’m watching you. I’ll know if you touch them, so don’t lie to me. Do you understand?”, she re-iterated. I sighed, seemingly defeated and simply sat at my place on the table, head laying on my hands. My mother walked away to take a quick shower, and little Yari was left all alone in the kitchen…with two donuts a few inches away from her tiny, eager little hands.
My mother came down the hall, fixing her clothes, shaking her wet hair. I jumped out of my chair and went to grab water, pretending to be suddenly thirsty and taking down big gulps. I turn around to go sit back on my place, and my mother is staring at the empty Barbie plate. She looks at me, eyebrow raised.
“No.”
“Yari. I know when you’re lying to me. I’m going to ask you again and tell me the truth. Did you eat the donuts?”
“No! Mom! I didn’t touch them!”
“Where did they go, then?”
“I don’t know! I was over there drinking water. You saw me.”
“Yari. Are you sure you didn’t eat the donuts? Are you lying?”
“No! I’m not lying! Look inside my mouth! *opens mouth, confident the water washed all residue away* See?”
“I see. But if you don’t know what happened to the donuts, and if you didn’t touch them or eat them…then what’s this?” *walking up to me, pointing at the powdered sugar residue all over the front of my shirt *
Needless to say, I never lied again. The look in my eyes, my body language…gave me away as soon as something was remotely off with me. Let’s not mention that they thoroughly explained why lying was wrong, and how it hurt others at some point…made them disappointed in me. Apparently those were enough reasons for me not to do it.
So time passed, and I was the good kid. Straight A’s with my homework done within an hour of being home from school (if I hadn’t already finished it at school already). Never talked back to my parents, accepted my discipline, helped around the house, respected everyone, didn’t sneak out or tried drugs. I was the daughter all my parents’ friends wanted to have. “That Yari, she never gives ya’ll any worries…”, they’d comment. My parents would simply smile and nod. I was rewarded with their trust, with privacy, with them letting me go out with my friends and come back whenever I deemed it was a responsible time to be home (I was always home by 11 p.m., even if they never asked me of it) and I was left to be judicious in my use of the internet when I was 14.
So. I was left alone. I was trusted that I wouldn’t lie about who I was talking to, what I was talking about and that I wasn’t lying about going to bed. I had earned that right to privacy. So, I started lying. About texting a friend, when I was really texting boys. About what I was doing with my free time. No, I wasn't on the phone with my friends or reading a book or just laying down in my room doing my own thing...I was exposing myself to people who were brought up different than I was. People that weren't innocent or naive or going through the same stages of insecurity that I was. No. They had malice and poor intentions. And I was prime territory to claim.
By the time they realized they should probably monitor what I was doing, it was a little too late. I had seen and done things no teenager had business even knowing about. I'm not saying I am ungrateful for the trust they had in me...and after all, it was I who violated their faith in me and my decision making...
I guess I wrote this out of concern for many of my friends who sometimes want to provide their kids with technological freedoms. I am not a parent, so I would not presume to think I could do better or that I have the right approach. Each person knows what works in their case. I simply want to warn of the danger of blurring that line between being a parent that kids can consider their friend...and being the parent that tries desperately to be cool, turning their face away when they should be monitoring closely.
The end. Heh.
