I am a father of six children and I’m raising rebels.
I never thought that I’d be proud and beaming while saying such a thing. But I am. I remember my “rebellion years” all too well while I was growing up in New York — and it wasn’t pretty. I still feel the need at times to apologize to my parents for those years. They lost a lot of sleep when I was a teenager.
But since becoming a father, I’m actually determined to raise rebels. I want my children to rebel and this resolve only deepens with each passing year.
I was reminded of this again last night while watching the Super Bowl with my kids. I think it is a sad day that while watching the biggest game of the year, I find myself on the edge of my seat, not because it’s a great game, but because I have to be so vigilant with the remote, getting ready to switch channels or cover my kids eyes in case some sleazy commercial comes on. (Yeah GoDaddy… I’m talking to you.)
I remember watching my first Super Bowl. It was the classic matchup of the Baltimore Colts and the New York Jets in Super Bowl III back in 1969. I was seven years old. The whole family was gathered around the black and white TV. I’m pretty sure that my parents weren’t concerned about what might pop up on a commercial. Has the day come when watching a sporting event like the Super Bowl has ceased to become “family-friendly”?
Call me over-protective. Call me over-sensitive. Call me a prude. No, actually call me a DAD. I will continue to teach and inspire my sons to rebel against a hyper-sexualized culture that normalizes the objectification and exploitation of women and girls. And I will teach my daughters to rebel against a culture that is grooming them to believe that their value, worth and acceptance is based upon their sexuality instead of their humanity.
I’m raising rebels.
President & Co-Founder, Love146
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