Flawed parents need to be accountable and then move on with lives

Q: I have moved under a cloud for 15 years because of my son’s issues. I have wondered so often: Was he molested and by whom? I’ve repeatedly re-examined relationships, including those with professionals charged with his care. My ruminating has negatively ensnared me into questioning those closest to me, including myself, my husband and other family. Both my sons and stepson know that I do believe their dad and I were incredibly immature at one time. We were overdemanding and impatient — self-absorbed. Still, where do you think parental self-examination merges with genuinely pinpointing causation and a healing admittance? Also, while I know somewhere there are answers for every type of emotional bruising, at what point does neither parent nor child have that clear-cut path to discovery — that smoking gun — and parental self-flagellation before a child becomes possibly even counterproductive? — P.H., Las Vegas

A: When I meet parents who desire to be accountable to their children, I encourage them to beware of causation arguments. Causation arguments? Yep. See if these sound familiar:

My child battles depression because I was an alcoholic.

My child is a dropout gangbanger because I got a divorce.

My child is violent because I let him watch too much television.

These are causation arguments. Our modern behavioral health culture is rife with them. But causation arguments must ultimately frustrate us. Because we can’t ever know that we know what caused symptoms A, B or C in our adult children. And isn’t it interesting that parents who are certain they bear direct causal responsibility for every negative attribute in their adult children often are the same parents who would shrug off the idea that they bear direct causal responsibility for positive attributes?

My child is a millionaire bank president because I read aloud to him every night.

My child won the Nobel Peace Prize because I went to church every Sunday.

My child is a happy, well-adjusted adult because I was generally the coolest parent ever.

See how quickly this whole thing becomes a quagmire?

Let’s focus on what we can know:

Human development never happens in a vacuum. While I certainly believe in individual, moral responsibility, there is, strictly speaking, no such thing as individual behavior. All behavior occurs in a system of influencing relationships. (Yes, Britney Spears is ultimately the only one responsible for shaving her head. But she shaved her head as much in response to our madness as to her own. Fame is nuts. Just plain nuts.)

Is there a direct link between my sins as a father and some chronic misery in my child’s personality and behavior? I will never know. But is there a relationship between my character (or its absence) and the person my child will someday become? Always. And I can be accountable to that relationship even if I never completely discern its inner workings.

Causal arguments are never ultimately the point of parental accountability. If I behave badly to my child, it is my moral duty to account, even if my bad behavior bears no particular injury to my child whatsoever. I account, not because my child’s injuries are sufficiently serious, but because my behavior is, in itself, unacceptable.

Self-flagellation? Self-flagellation is pathology. Guilt is not pathology. Guilt is the grief that I feel when I see I am a noninnocent, when I see how my smallness has injured someone who did not deserve to be injured.

But I don’t do this grief forever. It’s not useful to my wholeness and, believe it or not, it’s not useful to the wholeness of the person I injured.

My message to patients regarding the incompetent or cruel behavior of their parents is consistent: What happened belongs to your parents. It was wrong. It’s their responsibility. What you’re going to do about what happened is your responsibility. Your life belongs to you, and a life of radical responsibility includes taking responsibility for the unjust injuries we sustain.

Radical responsibility is the key distinction between the Victim’s Journey and the Hero’s Journey.

So, because I want my children to live heroic lives, I will not forever participate in a posture of mea culpa. At some point, after I have made every conceivable effort to be accountable, to regret my behavior, to change my behavior, to offer amends … at some point, I will go on.

Sometimes the thing that most needs to be forgiven is the other person’s unwillingness to forgive.

Steven Kalas is a behavioral health consultant and counselor at Clear View Counseling and Wellness Center in Las Vegas. His columns appear on Tuesdays and Sundays. Questions for the Asking Human Matters column or comments can be e-mailed to skalas@reviewjournal.com.