Life isn’t fair
On a rainy afternoon three years ago, my elder son and I were in a car accident. He was driving. My son was unhurt as was the other driver, but I sustained minor injuries and the car was totaled.
I was without regular employment at the time, and therefore without disability insurance of any sort.
I will sum up that day and its aftermath as “difficult.” My injuries never fully healed. The emotional, logistical, and financial consequences persist, though somewhat less so.
At the time of the accident, I was just beginning to get back up on my feet after divorce. It had already taken several years, but we were getting there. I was getting there.
Timing is everything, right?
Fair? Just Life.
Accidents happen. We fight back fear. Awareness crystallizes our lessons, and though my fear persists, my clarity is the reward.
How close we came to tragedy. How fragile and precious life is.
Eventually, there was another car to drive and both my son and I had to get back behind a wheel. When you’re knocked down, you must get up, period.
There are days I’m angry, still. In part because the father of my children could have stepped in to help, even in the most minor ways, and didn’t. I’m angry on the days when my arm aches badly. I didn’t have the money for adequate care; I imagine I’ll be living with those consequences for a long time to come.
Yet every day, I remember to be grateful that my child was unhurt, that I’m still here to love him, and that I’m finishing the job of raising both my sons.
While my stalwart young man was not at fault, the accident was deemed his fault, largely because of his age and status as a learner’s permit driver. (The other car was speeding, its lights were off in fog and rain, and there was no way to see him coming as we made a turn.)
Life isn’t fair.
Life isn’t fair: We, the children
When we are children, we learn the hard way that life isn’t fair. The lessons may come in major form: illness, death, poverty, abuse. The lessons may come in minor form: the bully who goes unpunished, the cheater who gets away with it, the mediocre grade despite valiant effort, the parent who favors one child over another.
We learn in athletics, as rules of the game are reinforced and good sportsmanship is modeled. Sometimes we see the cheater get away with an infraction. And we know again, that life isn’t fair.
Yet our parents control perceptions of fairness through their dealings with us. It may be a matter of keeping one’s word and not breaking a promise without good reason. It may require positioning disappointment tenderly, or respectful and loving responses to a child’s concerns.
Perfection? No, our parents weren’t capable of that and nor are we. Relative fairness, on the other hand, is a reasonable expectation – don’t you think?
Life isn’t fair: Teaching our children
Most parents try to teach children to play fairly, to believe in fairness (dare I say “justice?”), even as we attempt to instruct in self-protection and competitiveness. We speak of fair play, but when disappointments occur, we resort to “life isn’t fair” in knee-jerk fashion as if it were the only response available.
I suggest an alternative: save “life isn’t fair” for a serious tone and times of careful thought.
All too often, we toss out that line rather than seek a more judicious comment. There’s a distinction between competing and subsequently being disappointed, and unfairness. Don’t we owe it to ourselves and our children to make that differentiation? Shouldn’t we position success at least in part in the trying, the risking, the going for it?
“Not winning” shouldn’t elicit an automatic “life’s not fair.”
Turnabout is fair play
Some teach their children that “turnabout is fair play.” In other words, if the other guy hits below the belt, you do the same. Perhaps there is equity in that.
To me, this is little more than two wrongs make a right (if indeed they do). Isn’t this behavior responsible for a society of politicians versed in dirty tricks, and steroid-enhanced sports heroes? Must I add that divorce can be a sad example of two adults going at each other in the worst possible ways, as children look on – distressed, yet absorbing these patterns of behavior?
Is turnabout fair play? What do you think?
Many say yes. I find myself ambivalent on the subject, while still clinging to my integrity. Perhaps I would be better off (as would my sons) if I had mastered that particular lesson years ago. But I didn’t.
You make your own luck
Then there are those who insist you make your own luck. To them, I say that’s an overly simplistic (if popular) concept. Worse – it results in blaming the victim, and by victim I mean the one who may suffer consequences they have not caused in any fashion.
You know. Wrong place, wrong time. No “pattern” of poor choices but a single instance of being duped and decades of repercussions to contend with. A car accident, because someone is speeding, lights off, on a foggy and rainy day.
There are forces beyond our control – illness, accident, disaster. It’s hard to find anything of “fairness” in an earthquake and its ungodly toll on human life, and the despair that follows. There is no rhyme or reason to a child being abused, or who struggles with disease. There are millions of people in our country who are out of work, homeless, hungry, and without health care.
At least as terrible? They’re without hope.
These individuals did not “make their own luck.”
Teaching our children life skills: fair dealings
I have never had eloquent explanations for any of this – not when my children were young and brimming with questions on every subject, and not now. Things happen; we deal as best we can, and experience provides some perspective. And we make a choice to focus on the good, to point it out, and nonetheless learn that we’re all vulnerable to the unforeseen circumstance.
- How do you speak to your children about fairness and unfairness?
- How do you speak to the child in yourself on these same issues?
Life isn’t fair, but we deal
Life isn’t fair, and I do not believe in Karmic retribution.
I do believe in learning from mistakes, in caution where it is warranted, and in calculated risks.
I believe in trying, and that in itself is success, even if I do not accomplish my goal.
I believe in gratitude, and taking whatever comes with as much grace as I can muster, and I confess that some days that’s none at all.
I believe in reminding myself on a day like today, when darkness is palpable, that there will be light again. That there is light, and for me, that light will always be my sons. They are healthy and flourishing. With values they can honor.
As there is light in the privilege of having raised my children, my younger son yet to be launched, so, too, am I learning to raise the child in myself. None of this has been easy, but it is a life. It is my life. And on an anniversary that casts onerous shadows, this morning there is sunshine.
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My dear Wolfe,
You’ve out-done yourself today. Your writing is always extraordinary, your approach to the language, but I won’t redundantly dwell on that point. The message is the jewel wrapped in your beautiful prose.
How can you pass this on so more and more and more people can read it?
Thank you so much.
Tishx
This post really resonates with me, I get it. Please, please tell me that you had health insurance, that you’re getting some kind of physical therapy to help with the healing and pain. I’m concerned.
Damn… I love this post. Great message and delivery. I have been away for awhile dealing with my own “no fair stuff”… glad to be back and reading your posts.
I love this post. I am guilty of spouting, “hey, life’s not fair,” to my kids not infrequently. But at least it’s life, huh? And for that, I’m grateful. Glad you are able to look back on this “anniversary” of sorts, and see all kinds of things to think about.
I struggle to not wallow in life’s unfairness. I try to remember that no one deserves the bad stuff, just like no one deserves the good stuff. Things happen — and we have to learn to make the choice that gets us through those things. You want some divine ledger that will balance at the end of the day, but it just doesn’t exist.
I am guilty of telling whiners “life’s not always fair, get over it. Do the best you can with what you have”. This is another brilliant post from you. I never know what you’re going to have me thinking about for the rest of the day when I head over here.
As a child, religion – or, perhaps more precisely, faith – helped my parents answer a lot of the big questions for me. Now, as a person of faith, but in a family without religion, I wonder how I will answer these same questions about justice for my own kids.
I am grateful for this reminder that it is often best to have an answer to a question before it is asked.
I believe that life is not fair but that the scale tips both ways. Sometimes we are on the sucky end of things but other times we are on the Oh My God this that you me us is so lucky and I really don’t deserve this spectrum.
LOVE this post – it’s so true, in so many ways. My fave passage is at the very end – around life not being fair but WE DEAL. YES!! WE DO! Not everyone does, but everyone should, because while it isn’t fair, life goes on, and you deal with it and find the best in everything.
wonderful
good luck
be well
First off, so sorry to hear about this anniversary, but so grateful that your voice is here, and that your son was not harmed.
I think it’s important to remember, too, that children sometimes truly do not understand that life isn’t always fair. I can’t remember at exactly what age children grasp this concept, but for younger children, they simply do not get it when they see what they perceive to be an injustice. So as parents, we have to remember (and even enjoy) their innocence.
My children have already had their share of injustice. Sometimes perceived, sometimes very harshly – as in the father they have. They DO deserve better, and I want them to know that.
Sure, I’ll throw out a “life isn’t fair” when my 12-yr-old complains that all her other friends get to do something that she can’t, but for the most part, I think it’s best to just listen. When I remember to keep my mouth shut, I find that my children move on pretty quickly.
For instance, my 12-yr-old was devastated when a group of girls wouldn’t let her dance with them for the talent show and went on and on about how unfair it was. I let her rant. And then she changed the subject.
Not everything has to be a “teachable” moment.
Oh April – I think you just nailed it. Sometimes we really do need to keep quiet and listen. And you’re so right. Everything doesn’t have to be a teachable moment. Very wise words.
“Shouldn’t we position success in the trying, the risking, the going for it?”
YES!
I was regrouping this weekend and am finally catching up with all of your posts.
No, life isn’t fair. I do find, though, that no one has a perfect life. We all have our struggles. It’s easy to look at a family with beautiful children, a glamorous home, and plenty of money and think they have it all. Until you find out the mom is dying of cancer, the kids are struggling with drug addiction, and the dad is rarely home. I have found that nothing is picture perfect. That is what I want to teach my children. It is easy to assume, less easy to discover the truth.
I’ve told my children that we have to get comfortable in the “I don’t know” position, because that’s, unfortunately, the answer to a lot of questions. I don’t know why there’s injustice; I don’t know why Earthquakes occur killing 100,000 people with no warning, I don’t know even why we’re mortal and we have to live with the knowledge of our own death. But if I can’t get comfortable with the I don’t know, then I can’t grow up. I’m okay with not knowing everything; I’m okay with filling in the gaps with faith and with knowing that more will be revealed later. And if it appears unfair, maybe that’s just from this vantage point.
I was having a conversation yesterday, probably as you were writing this, with #5. He was complaining as he feels on of his professors is drinking a spiked beverage during class and campus is dry. There are days, especially when the perceived injustice is not hurting anyone who is perceiving it, when I just say “life isn’t fair.” At 19, he should already know that, shouldn’t he?
I do believe in learning from mistakes, in caution where it is warranted, and in calculated risks.
I believe in trying, and that in itself is success, even if I do not accomplish my goal.
I believe in gratitude, and taking whatever comes with as much grace as I can muster, and I confess that some days that’s none at all.
These words are so true and I wish you many days of light!
Hmm. There was much sunshine in my morning yesterday as well. 🙂
And life ISN’T fair, but I try not to fling those words about my house without caution. You are right, there is much to be learned, taught and absorbed when it comes to fairness. We are dealt a hand, and we make our own (second) hand. How to mesh the two is a constant battle, isn’t it? Especially since the cards keep shifting.
One of the most important things I will teach my children is to be aware of the shifting. Refusing to accept that things change often is a sure path to something horrible–even if I can’t put one name on it (there are many). Actions happen. Reactions are created by us. I have to believe in a greater good. I have to believe in putting one foot in front of the other. In perseverence. In the power of the positive.
Then again, I finally got my ass to the pool today and thus it’s one of those optimistic, clear-headed days. So everything I’m saying could totally shift tomorrow. But I guess that’s the point, right?
We change. Life changes. We change some more!