Natural selection - The Jewish Standard

Studying philosophy in college, I naïvely fell for various theories of human character development that suggested a universal human nature. Whether embracing Locke’s concept that we are born a blank slate, or Rousseau’s assertion that humans are born inherently good, I never questioned their basic assumption — that humans started off the same, ready to be shaped and molded by their world.

Then I had kids.

Having my own children taught me how much is truly inborn. There are traits I noticed about my kids before they left the hospital that continue to shape them to this day. One baby, born quiet and curious, grew into a deliberate, thoughtful child, and another came into the world full of movement and energy, and those still are her main traits. While of course parents, family, and the broader environment profoundly influence personality and moral development, many qualities and inclinations come pre-installed. One of the greatest challenges for any parent is developing those natural pathways. Ideally, we direct our children to use their inborn traits to their advantage, rather than trying to change them.

With our oldest child, a stern look or a gentle reminder was all it took to enforce a rule; no child locks were ever needed. Our second kid was born to be a scamp. One of our favorite videos is of the two of them at the younger one’s friend’s one-year-old birthday party. After the cake was served, the leftovers remained on a low table in the party room. As I was chitchatting with other parents, my toddler attacked, using her entire arm to scoop the remains toward her mouth. She was literally up to her armpit in cake. Her rules-following older sister pointed and said “Mommy, Mommy, look what she’s doing!” I could only laugh and watch her reap the reward for her chutzpah.

While still less than 2, she taught her older sister another lesson in asking forgiveness instead of permission. We had baked cookies, eaten an unhealthy number of them, and eventually put the rest away until after dinner. Big sister wanted just one more, and proceeded to use her words and words and words, pleading, begging, and arguing her case as well as any litigator. Little sister, not yet very verbal, spied the shelf with the cookie jar and got to work. She dragged a stepstool up to a chair, from which she climbed onto a barstool, then onto the kitchen counter. She stacked a few cookbooks to give herself an extra boost, reached up to the shelf, lifted the lid, and snagged a couple of cookies while her sister chattered away, continuing her advocacy. Meanwhile, little sis dismounted the cookbooks, slid down to the chair, stuck one cookie in her mouth, handed one to her sister, and left the kitchen, munching away. Big sister held the cookie up, still pleading for permission: “Can I eat it?” “ If you’re still going to ask, the answer is still going to be no.”

This difference expressed itself in physical challenges as well. The older took her time learning to walk and climb, never playing a sport after 3-year-old soccer. The younger walked at nine months and soon dashed off in every direction at a clip while I waddled behind, already pregnant with her sister, who is just 16 months younger. I remember the first time I ever saw a child on a leash. My horror at the sight of a child treated like an animal blended with my jealousy and desperation for control.

One sister lived for the thrills, while the other proceeded with caution. We often reminisce about visiting a friend whose backyard swing set slide ended with a nine-inch drop. Big sister would carefully climb the ladder, requiring a spotter be close at hand lest she slip on a step, then wait an eternity at the top while she gathered courage to go down one time. Meanwhile, little sister scampered up, zoomed down, and plopped on her tush, giggling and getting right up to do it again and again. You can guess which one clung to the wall when we went ice skating, and which one never cared how often she fell as long as she went fast. We had the orthopedist on speed dial, qualifying for the volume discount plan for casts.

Thankfully, each has grown into her core traits, finding wonderful outlets for her natural abilities. The world needs deliberate, contemplative people as well as bold and determined types. By embracing our children’s inborn inclinations, we can ensure that they, and the world, benefit from the best they have to offer.

Laura (Lori) Fein of Teaneck is a litigator at Eckert Seamans LLC. She is the daughter of the greatest mom ever, who she hopes is reading this, and the mom to five daughters who probably never will. Her podcast Mommash: The Oy and Joy of Family is available on all platforms, and she can be reached at mommash.podcast@gmail.com.

Opinion

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