Do you have helicopter parents?
If I had to describe my parents in one word, I would describe them as hedges, not walls. The reason I refer to them as such is from the way that they have raised me, their ability to loom over me and demand respect, shield me from unseeable threats, and most importantly, their way of guiding me through the maze of life without trapping me down one simple path. For as long as I could remember, I had always been thankful for my parent’s more flexible approach in raising me. Allowing me to figure out what I wanted to do and how I wanted to do it rather than giving me a predetermined situation that they wanted me to go through. And this is something that holds strong throughout my entire family. Every single one of my aunties, uncles, cousins, grandmas, and grandpas has always encouraged the upcoming generation to do what they want to with few but noticeable regulations. There was the standard: don’t get killed, don’t kill anybody, and don’t ruin your own life, but other than that, we are all relatively free range. And because this has always been a constant mindset within my family, I find myself confused and uneducated about different parenting styles. What really introduced me to these different ideologies was a conversation during journalism, second semester of sophomore year. It was during brain break, we were sitting in a rough rectangle in the middle of the room either on our phones or talking to the people next to us. At one point, a girl let out a big sigh and said to the room “my parents don’t let me do anything.” It was a short statement but the whole room shifted its attention towards her as she went on a spiel of her parents not letting her go out if she’d be back past sunset, not letting her take the car to run anything but errands, and only being allowed out of the house if she had Life-360 active on her phone. I was honestly shocked at her statements as, up until this point, I had heard vague stories of strict parents but those were usually shared online in a less than credible manner. Hearing it in real life made me come to a revelation that people really did hover over their kids, watch their every move, and control what they did in their free time. And when the girl stopped talking I expected the room to come to a similar shocked and confused state as I was in, but instead they started to agree and relate to her. Over the next 45 minutes I heard a cacophony of stories from a tame curfew to someone not being allowed to get their license until they can afford their own car. And I was sitting there with my mouth open confused as to why so many parents wanted to make these decisions for their child instead of letting their child figure it out themselves. Because my family has always had the motto of "they'll learn by doing,” whenever someone does something they were told not to, having such rules was never a necessity.
And so, as I sat there listening to my classmates talk about their parents, I selfishly became more grateful for mine. I thought back to all those frustrating moments where I asked my parents what I should do and them merely saying I should figure it out myself- and found myself thankful they did so. By forcing me to branch out and make my own decisions, my parents taught me how to evaluate my own situations and weigh the consequences myself so I could make the best decision. This way of learning through doing truly allows people to come to terms with what they’re doing and what will happen because of it, and I am forever grateful that this is how my parents taught me how to learn.
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I tried to make this essay more "blog-ish" than my other ones, but don't think I hit the nail on the head, is there anything I should do to make my essay seem less formal?
