The Force Card
By Lisa Miller
I hope you weren’t looking for a post about Star Wars, Luke Skywalker, or The Force. While I am a fan, this is about parenting. And my force cards.
What’s a force card, you ask?
I’ll tell you! It’s a metaphorical card I play when I want to force my kids to do something (they probably don’t want to do). I keep several in my hand at all times and play them when I know that asking nicely, cajoling, invoking logic, and threatening won’t work. My kids know about my force cards and I explained the concept to them at an early age. They know that when I tell them I am using a “force card” it’s non-negotiable. I use them sparingly and judiciously because I don’t want to abuse my power (or inspire a revolt). I wouldn’t use a force card for something like getting my kid to do their chores or cleaning their room (I try to use natural consequences for irresponsible behavior). It’s for things that I believe in my marrow are in their best interest, will enrich them in some way, and/or foster family closeness. My kids know not to mess with me when I play a force card. There is no card my kid can play that cancels out or overrides my force card (except maybe the diarrhea-vomit card or high-fever card).
Why do I force my kids to do things when I am such a proponent of building agency? Because kids don’t always know what is good for them. And sometimes a mom has got to lay down the law.
The last time I used a force card, it was to insist that our family go to the museum together. Now, I am not the kind of person who hangs out in museums, but I go periodically to support the arts and when there are artists and/or exhibits that I care about. In this instance, it was the Soul of a Nation: Art in the Age of Black Power 1963-1983 at the DeYoung Museum. I played the force card about a week ahead of time, so they could get all of their feels out, and let them know we’d be leaving as a family at 10am on Saturday morning.
Here’s a brief recap of how the day went. We were running late. There was bumper-to-bumper traffic. It took us over 90 minutes to get there. Everyone complained. I cried. Parking was impossible. When we got to the museum, my son announced he had already seen the exhibit with his classmates. My husband was preoccupied. My kids cringed visibly when I asked a stranger to take a picture of us.
I rallied and wrangled everyone; I said to my son, “Great! Show us your favorite pieces;” I promised everyone food at the museum cafe; I agreed to a maximum of 90 minutes in the exhibit (I mean, we couldn’t spend less time at the museum than it took us to get there!); and I reassured everyone that we would be home in time for them to do the other things they deemed so important.
And, there was a little magic that happened that afternoon. In between being sulky and annoying, my kids pointed out interesting things they saw and read. They rested their heads on my shoulder while they absorbed knowledge about Angela Davis, the Watts Rebellion, and the Black Power Movement. The hot chocolate and croissants were delicious and disappeared all of our hanger (hunger + anger).
At the end of the day, I was pleased I played a force card and made this happen for us. I won’t lie, there was a moment (or several) when we were sitting in traffic and everyone was harping that I thought about turning the car around. And spending the day by myself. But I persevered and I’m grateful I did.
Now that my kids are older and in college, they are more aware and seek out their own enrichment activities. They are also more grateful and agreeable. I don’t have to play my force cards as often. But, we all know they are there and that I won’t hesitate to use them.
Do you think you (and your family) could benefit from this parenting strategy? Give it a try and let me know how it goes!
Postscript: During the most recent winter break, when my kids were both home from college and we were hanging out in the kitchen, my phone’s photo app happened to display the picture of the four of us at the museum that day. The one they posed for reluctantly and caused them unquantifiable second-hand embarrassment (see said picture below). My kids cooed over the picture and were both like, “Remember when mom made us all go to the museum together and we learned something and had fun? And mom cried.”
True story.
They remember this excursion with fondness!
I was incredulous but also reminded that it’s up to me, and to us as parents, to curate meaningful experiences for our kids, to spend time together as a family, and to help them lead a purposeful life. Even when they’d rather sleep in, play video games, or do anything else.
