As a kid, it was in the back seat of our family’s mint green Buick station wagon where I learned my most memorable lessons having to do with gratitude, not at the Thanksgiving table. My grandparents, whom we visited often, lived in a declining neighborhood in the Bronx. As we would wind our way to their home through even worse neighborhoods, my parents would direct comments to the backseat where my sister and I sat. They would contrast what we were seeing with the idyllic, leafy Boston suburb where we lived. Their narrative was not subtle. “Imagine living here, across from burnt out buildings… Think about having no space, no place to play and run around… We’re lucky that our air always smells good… No woods here to run into and find quiet and a place to build a fort… Grandma barely feels safe going outside anymore.”
Nina and I never responded to these observations, yet our eyes often got big as we saw things so far removed from our own experiences. We knew our parents’ intent: be grateful for our good fortune; we might not have everything but we lead a life of relative plenty; always be thankful for your situation in life; focus on the good; we’re lucky.
As children of the Depression, my parents saw the world through lenses of gratitude. My father lied about his age to enlist early in World War II and saw service in rural India, China, and Burma. He regularly showed us photos he had taken of conditions in the villages near where he had been stationed. While my imagination was most captured by the pictures of his unit’s pet monkey Moe, it was another way my parents replayed their refrain of recognizing our good fortune.
A few years ago, I had the opportunity to hear an amazing speaker and best selling writer named Brené Brown say this: “The difference between privilege and entitlement is gratitude.” While Brown’s research as a psychologist generally involves the potentially transformative power of opening oneself up to vulnerability, her words brought me right back to sitting in the backseat of the Buick with my sister. My parents wanted to ensure that we did not develop an attitude of entitlement but that we knew we were privileged, which also meant we possessed certain responsibilities.
The approach of Thanksgiving reminds me of the importance of instilling an “attitude of gratitude” in our children. The world moves ever more quickly. It is harder and harder to make the time to connect in authentic, fulfilling, and healthy ways. The distraction of things can cloud what is most important. But by savoring the blessings in our lives, and by turning at least some of that gratitude outward, we can help our children find deeper meaning, satisfaction, calm, and happiness. My best to you and your family for a memorable and joyful Thanksgiving.
The Country School, Talbot County Free Library, and the Avalon Foundation, sponsors, join with fourteen other community organizations to present Conversation & Homecoming with Carole Boston Weatherford and her son, Jeffery Boston Weatherford, a program free and open to all.
The Country School will present Roald Dahl’s Matilda The Musical JR. on March 1st & 2nd at 7pm and on March 3rd at 2pm in the school’s auditorium. Tickets are $10. Click here to purchase tickets.
This week, The Country School was honored to welcome a distinguished visitor to its campus, Professor Celeste-Marie Bernier, Chair of United States and Atlantic Studies at the University of Edinburgh, Scotland, UK.
The Country School does not discriminate on the basis of race, color, religion, age, gender, nationality, ethnic origin, or sexual orientation in the administration of its educational, admission, and employment policies, or its financial aid, athletic, and other school administered programs.