ENTITLEMENT (January/February 2002 Issue)

Little children sitting on Santa Claus’ knee, reciting the list of things they want for Christmas. Children and Santa. It’s a nice scene, isn’t it?

Now fast forward to a group of surly, selfish teenagers. Are there any in your neighborhood? Have you seen a few hip-hopping their way through shopping malls? Hot in pursuit of the latest in coo-ool stuff. Speaking sarcastically to anyone who, like, dares intrude on their, like, space.

What could be a more startling contrast? The sweet little ones and the defiant, disrespectful teeners. Do you think there is perhaps a connection between the two? After all, the toddlers and elementary school kids grew into these teen monsters. What happened?

Let’s take a closer look at sitting on Santa’s knee. The four year-olds are all hyped up about the presents in front of the tree. I’m all in favor of love between parents and their children, but I’m afraid we as a society may be unintentionally teaching our children some unfortunate lessons through gift-giving and gift-receiving.

Kids have been told "you be good and Santa will reward you." After their first Christmas of being lavishly "rewarded," the four year-olds have learned the game of getting what they want.

Here are the lessons we may be planting unwittingly in the four year-old’s mind:

(1) Getting is very important. The more I get, the better person I am and the more my parents love me, (2) I don’t have to do too much to get these riches. I don’t have to do any hard work. All I have to do is "be good." Or, "look as though I’m being good;" (3) "Being good" means looking as cute and innocent as possible and maybe telling a lie or two if necessary.

This may be how we teach our children to feel "entitled" and perhaps even teach them to be greedy. Fast forward to teenagers again. Teenagers are still the acquisitive beings they were at four years old. They want things that are coo-ool. Like $200 sneakers. And cars, clothing and other stuff. Life is still about getting things. The more you have, the cooler person you are. Only trouble is, the teens may not be cute as they were ten years ago. And their peers, like, insist they talk, like, all, their own language and be as sassy toward their parents as possible.

If teens don’t know how to lie and be disrespectful, all they have to do is watch TV sitcoms for a steady stream of pointers. And their parents, despite being dissed on a regular basis by their teens, feel obligated to buy them coo-ool stuff. Parents put up with the guff because they’re afraid of being rejected. As one mother of three put it: "You don’t want to tee-off a
teenager."

So the parents buy, and the teenagers sass, everyone complains, and the cash registers hum. How did children and teenagers come to feel "entitled" to so many material things, for no reason other than they were born? Could it be that it all started at Santa’s knee?

What does all this have to do with career counseling? As Pogo said: "We have met the enemy and he is us." We are counseling the parents of these kids and teenagers and we counselors are parents too. Parents who race around in frantic pursuit of material objects that will satisfy their children. Christmas, birthdays, Easter, and other holidays, it’s an all-year rush to provide goodies for one’s kids. And once the kids recognize early on that their wishes are driving this whole process, their appetites for coo-ool things are voracious. Television and advertising push this into high gear .

Parents’ work leaves them absent from the home and leads to guilt. "Am I doing enough for the kids?" Anything purchased "for the kids" is deemed OK. The only way to make up for one’s absence is with things. But since material things never really compensate for face-to-face intimate parent-child contact, the "things" are never enough. But we parents keep thinking "If I just have a good enough career, I’ll make enough money and then I’ll have time for my kids." Yeah, sure.

Career counselors are talking to parents or future parents who are chasing the golden apple of careers. Meanwhile their little ones roll out three-foot lists of "gimme" for Santa and their teenagers insult them at every turn. What is wrong with this picture?

Career counselors are parents too. We’re all in this together. We pursue careers as though we’re still looking to have our own Santa-lists satisfied. And we especially want to fulfill our kids’ desires. We can’t help ourselves; we love our kids.

Compulsive buying puts a lot of pressure on the career client. If everyone rates their self worth by the coo-ool stuff they get, one has to be very focused or even obsessed with earning money. Get those presents. Get that boat. Get those cars. Get that super vacation. The advertisers are counting on your having these obsessions. Get on Santa’s knee again. Be good. Be nice. Be rewarded.