To Christians With “Overprotective” Parents

Here are two things you should know.

1: This post is a letter written to Christian kids under age eighteen. If you’re not a Christian and/or child and you want to read this post, take it for what it is: not written for you.

2: This is an insanely-super-long post, so if you don’t have a lot of time and/or are highly distractable, don’t read this post right now. Bookmark it and come back later after you’ve taken care of your important to-do things.

What to do about overprotective parents?

Full confession: I’m eighteen now and make my own decisions. Before I turned eighteen, though, my parents were what they jokingly call “overprotective.” Meaning, I didn’t read Harry Potter until one year ago, the kids in our family couldn’t watch the Disney movies with ghosts until we were too old to appreciate the slapstick humor, and most of my siblings still don’t have Facebook. Basically, I’m saying I know what it’s like to have parents who say no.

Maybe you’ve said/heard people say things like this:

Dad shouldn’t try to control me so much!

I may not know everything, but neither do my parents, and I know myself a heck of a lot better than they do.

Harry Potter isn’t going to damage me; it actually teaches some really good lessons.

I know my parents are well-meaning, but they don’t understand me.

It just hurts that Mom doesn’t trust me with something as harmless as a children’s book series.

But are we looking at this all wrong? I’d posit that we might be, that maybe overprotective parents are not a curse, but rather a blessing. I thank God and my parents for most, if not all, of the decisions they made, even though I disagreed with them at the time.

To explain why, I need to start from square one:

Everyone is overprotective sometimes- and thank God that we are.

When people say “overprotective,” what do they really mean? No one knows the future, obviously, so there is no way to be just the right amount of “protective.” People have to be either under- or over-protective, and most folks like to err on the side of caution.

Let’s just take the most basic example: a seatbelt. Every time you get into your car and put on a seatbelt, you are necessarily being overprotective. Gee whiz, you’re probably not going to wreck every single time you’re in a motor vehicle. What’s the big deal? In fact, while we’re at it, we could probably do away with those giant concrete barriers in the middle of the highway and just use one yellow line instead of two. It would definitely save the government some money. Buckling up is a time waster.

Yet, if you’re smart, you buckle up. You know that if you don’t have a seatbelt on, you could get hurt– just like my friend. Last month, driving back from vacation, a distracted driver rear-ended her car at high speed, totaled the vehicle, and gave her whole family whiplash. If my friend hadn’t been wearing her seatbelt, she would have flown through the windshield and probably died. This is why the law requires people to buckle up.

If you don’t crash, a seatbelt is an inconvenience that wastes maybe five seconds on every drive; if you’re in a bad wreck, it’s that fine line between life and death. Next time you pull into the driveway safely after a road trip, thank God that He made people to be overprotective.

Of course, overprotection can be a good or bad thing. Where do overprotective parents fit in? Well, let’s get to the next point:

The keyword is not “overprotective.” It is “parent.”

Let’s say you’re a mom or dad who just brought home your first child. Congratulations, balloons, meal trains. Now what do you need to do? More than you think. Contrary to popular belief, your job as a parent is not just to clothe and feed that hypothetical child and make sure he/she doesn’t do bad stuff at parties until age eighteen; you as a parent are now responsible for an actual soul. When God creates a child, He doesn’t just make a body with a brain that sometimes functions with ample caffeine. He creates a person with a soul that will live forever. (C.S. Lewis wrote a good explanation.) God gives children to you, the parent, with the responsibility to make sure that you take care of their little souls, lead them to seek out and obey His plan, and teach them diligently in the hope that they will come to a saving relationship with Christ.

This is why we have Mother’s and Father’s Days. Because, all things considered, your parents are doing a pretty freaking awesome job.

I don’t know about you, but when I step back and realize the overwhelming responsibility of my parents to care for my soul, I find it really hard to be mad about not reading TwilightIn fact, I even have a little bit of gratitude that Mom and Dad made the best decision they could for my benefit. They probably didn’t enjoy some of those decisions any more than I did. (It can be hard to say no to people you love, especially if it makes them sad.) Some of those safeguards were probably unnecessary, but my parents didn’t put them there because they were monsters. They put them there because they cared.

If you understand all this, yet you still fundamentally disagree with your parents’ Hunger Games policiesthen here’s another bit of truth that might help:

You probably aren’t missing out on much.

If you really miss out on something good, you can catch up on it later. I don’t think it takes that long to read The Hunger GamesIn fact, you’ll probably enjoy it more if you take your parents’ advice and wait.

Now if your parents are starving you, then by all means argue, disobey, and do whatever it takes to eat and survive. That’s not overprotection; that’s abuse. (Metabolism is one of the four biological criteria for life.) If they aren’t letting you encounter opposing worldviews and you’re in your teens, maybe have a talk about that one- or else college is gonna be tough for you. But if your parents tell you not to do something you want but don’t need… then don’t do it. Face it, you don’t need Harry Potter in your life. Queen Victoria never read Harry Potter, and she ruled the British Empire for over sixty years. Tell yourself you’re being like Victoria. It will do wonders for your attitude.

And if you think that you should be able to make your own decisions because you know best, think again. Many times, when my parents told me not to do something, I later realized they were right. For example, a few years ago when I was probably fifteen, maybe younger, I wanted to watch Sherlock. Dad said no because it had a lot of swearing, it could be scary, and it would probably do me no good. I disagreed with him on that last bit quite strongly; but I decided to do the right thing and obey.

Now, as an adult (and Sherlockian), I can see at least two reasons why it was a good idea to skip the show at that age. One, Sherlock is in fact scary, and being my usual empathetic, prone-to-depression self, I would not have handled Moriarty’s psychopathic tendencies very well at all. It would have done me more emotional harm than good. Two, Sherlock has some particular themes in a particular episode (if you don’t know, don’t look it up) which my dad didn’t know about because he never finished the show. If I had stumbled upon that episode a few years ago, I would have been too disgusted to finish the show, and thus I would never have watched “The Sign of Three.”

There was no way for me to know all that at age fifteen. Good thing my parents were overprotective about a show they never finished.

And lastly, if you still disagree, I just have one more thing to tell you:

You should obey anyway.

Even if nothing else in this post has inspired you to obey, this should be enough to convince you. As a Christian, you have a responsibility to obey your parents in everything. Look at Colossians 3:20. In context, “children” means “people under the legal age of adulthood.” That means that if you’re a Christian under age eighteen, you have to obey your parents whether you like it or not. (Even adult Christians are still required to show honor to their parents.) Unless they command you to do something sinful, disobedience to parents is disobedience to God. Obey them, if for no other reason than your desire to obey God.

Ultimately, it helps to know that your parents do actually care about you.

They aren’t always right. Parents can be wrong sometimes; I know my parents make mistakes because I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my few years of life, and they’ve been around a lot longer than I have. But now that Mom and Dad have messed up a few times, they can help us avoid doing those things. They can protect us from things that just might be dangerous. When they say no to something, try asking why- I’m sure they’d love to explain it to you if you just ask them nicely. You can disagree and present your reasons for why they should change their mind; in fact, you may actually get them to agree with you. But in the end, it’s the job of Christian parents to make a wise decision, and it’s the job of a Christian son or daughter to accept it.

And it’s worth mentioning that the sooner you decide to trust your parents, the likelier they are to start trusting you with more of those things you want to do.

Dear Fellow Writers: Do What You Want

Dear fellow writers,

Don’t be afraid to write what you want.

Sociologists will tell you that you have to have characters of every ethnicity or else you’re a racist. Feminists say that you have to have two named female characters who talk about not-a-man, or else you’re a sexist. Politicians say you have to represent every lifestyle fairly, without a preference for one over the other, or else you’re a bigot. I’ve actually heard storytellers (I’m resisting the urge to add quotation marks) supporting these claims.

And that’s nothing but a heap of rot. As much as we admire the social scientists and true feminists for finding the best way for our civilization to work, and as much as we (sometimes) admire politicians for trying to achieve an agenda, none of these folks are really storytellers. Sure, they can learn to tell stories as well, but it’s not automatically their job, just as it’s not my job to analyze statistics or give speeches. However, lately these culture-workers have been sticking sociology’s nose where it doesn’t belong: into writing. And there’s the rub.

In most modernized countries, we have something along the lines of the First Amendment, which says that we can write what we want without getting in trouble. That goes beyond government coercion. We can’t be intimidated into saying something we don’t believe or shutting up about something we do, and we shouldn’t have to be afraid of ostracism when we write a good story that just happened to have differences from what the audience expected. We can write our own stories, and if readers don’t like them, then they can read something else. Maybe they can even write their own book- because honestly, if people have enough time to read that many “bigoted” books and complain about them, they probably aren’t suffering for free time. So that means, in any free country, such pressure is just plain stupid.

Yes, I’m talking about the Bechdel test. I’m talking about the pressure to write in the latest popular genre, and I’m talking about the fad that fantasy and historical writers have to represent every ethnicity in their stories. Really, I’m talking about any non-storyteller that tries to tell writers how to do their jobs. Things like this have no place in literature because they are anti-story. Their underlying assumption is that storytelling is nothing more than a string of conversations or an archetypal set of characters, and when we look at those conversations or characters, we had better find everything we ever wanted.

However, readers have many ways of understanding the deeply-held beliefs of the author. Counting the negligible details of a single interaction in a story is not one of those ways. As anyone who knows the first thing about storytelling would explain, storytelling is about many small components- theme, development, plot, characters, even good prose- built into a larger structure called “story.” That is how we identify a good or bad book.

Let’s look at it this way. 12 Angry Men or Fifty Shades of Grey: Which one is more likely to encourage men and women to think critically about social bias? And which one is more likely to (at best) demean women? Well… guess which one actually passes the “feminist” Bechdel test? Yeah. And this is what non-storytellers have to offer the world of writing. It’s great for educational textbooks, but horrible for stories.

What’s the first rule of writing? Don’t overthink it. The first rule is to write what you want. When writing stories, you don’t have to write for your mom, your professor, feminist critics, the government… you are in charge. Sure, the beta-reading and polishing phases will require a little more thought, but for the first draft, no one hired you to write a politically-correct vampire romance. Don’t ever let a non-storyteller tell you what to do.

Write the story that only you can write.


Hannah A. Krynicki

The Fall of Fashionable Platonism

Note: I will say a few things in this article with which you may disagree. If at any time your feelings are hurt by anything I say, feel free to click the red “x” box in the top right of your browser. It will make the offending text go away. Thank you.

Frodo and sam

Well. So far, the twenty-first century has been a remarkable one. We have witnessed the rise of stupidity on a level rarely seen since the days of the Roman Empire. We have seen the downfall of common sense as proved by this court case and mindless outrage as in this story, and soon we may even see a megalomaniac elected as the primary leader of our nation. To quote Emily Dickinson, “Much madness is divinest sense.”

But this lack of circumspection isn’t limited to the stage of politics. No, fellow writers, we have officially seen the downfall of platonism in fiction. Allow me to prove it. I just did a quick Bing search for keywords “frodo and sam,” and six out of fourteen links had to do with whether their friendship was more than a friendship.

Six out of fourteen.

Okay, people. Anybody who knows the first thing about Tolkien knows that he would stand staunchly against homosexuality and other such unnatural relationships. Tolkien was a boldly conservative Roman Catholic with strong evangelical ideas that he didn’t hush up. If he really would go so far as to deny everything the Bible and the contemporary English culture said about homosexuality, he would have shouted his opinion from the rooftops of Rohan and Gondor. Believe me, if any of his characters was gay, it would be obvious, as in the case of Baron Harkonnen in Frank Herbert’s Dune. (If you don’t believe that, go re-read the chapter where he made a woman defeat the witch-king.) No way around it; Frodo and Sam were friends and nothing more.

Quick definition: friends (frendz)- people who show loyalty to each other on the basis of mutual affection. 

At this point, a lot of readers may claim that it was the fault of Tolkien and other authors for not being clear enough about the difference between agape, philos, and eros in their fiction. They might even cite a prestigious quote like this one:

Don’t write simply to be understood. Write so that you cannot possibly be misunderstood. -Robert Louis Stevenson

But these people are again reading themselves into the text. While Stevenson does make a good point about how writers should be able to write properly, we should never take this guideline out of context. He was referring to word choice- choose a strong, vivid word over a vague, passive one that leaves people bewildered. He was not talking about illiteracy that supports certain lifestyle choices. The person who would twist Stevenson’s words to that extent has no right to call him/herself a reader.

Even if Tolkien had failed to spell out the most important concepts in his books (which is an utterly outlandish claim), it is the fault of the reader, not the writer, for reading a bias into the story. No author can possibly anticipate and dispel every single lie that might be perpetrated about their work. It is the author’s job to write well and expect that readers will read well.

Yet people often don’t allow themselves to understand. If they want to believe something, they will believe it, even if it means ignoring the truth. Think about it: conservationists could always say that “The Mark on the Wall” is a satirical censure of graffiti and other defacing of natural landmarks, or abortionists can insist that “A Modest Proposal” was meant to be taken literally. Frankly, I’m surprised that nobody has tried either of those approaches yet. But none of these claims actually makes it the truth; indeed, anyone with basic comprehension skills can understand that the authors had no such intent in mind.

I may make jokes about how I’m afraid that people will ship my characters, but that is true to some extent. I am honestly nervous about any of my books becoming popular because I don’t want to think about the day when readers insist that the relationship between Elkay and Ramilon was anything but platonic. I never intended it to be more than a friendship, but some people will always try to twist my words. And that is not fair.

At the end of the day, I am calling everyone out- myself included. Don’t read yourself or your opinions into a book that is talking about something completely different. I promised myself a long time ago that I would not juxtapose Christianity, pro-life, or any of my other beliefs into a book written to support other ideas, and I know that everyone would certainly support that commitment. Well, they must get rid of the double standard, and keep their ideas out of my book. If someone really need to find support for one’s choices in a fictional work, they ought to go find someone who writes pro-gay fiction. But never come whining to me or to Tolkien for it.

No matter what our worldviews, I think that we can agree this far: we all should be able to say what we like without readers twisting our words. Read what the author wrote, not what you want to hear. And if no author has yet written what you want to read… then just write it yourself.

Have you seen the downfall of platonic reading? Why do you think it is happening? Can we writers stop it?