Politically, I have never sat quite as far left as Anthony Wedgewood Benn. But boy did I admire him. His eloquence, his honesty, and his refusal to promote policies that, however popular/populist, meant a compromise to his dearly-held principles. I heard him speak at a literary festival a few years ago and I was utterly transfixed by his capacity to draw out the interconnections between so much in society, politics and global finance, and more besides. Now that he has passed, after a long life full of significance, obituaries abound in the weekend papers; commentators are having a field day, depending on where they stand on the political spectrum. But, I’m guessing, from wherever he is sitting right now (with his pipe and a mug of tea in hand) I imagine Tony is having a right good giggle at all the copy in his honour.
Tony once said “there are two types of politician, the weathercock and the signpost”. Like so many things he said, this has clarity of thought, wit, and truth woven all the way through it. The best obituary I have read, from The Independent, has a little rolling slide show to accompany it, and each image is matched with a quote from this great man. Definitely worth you taking a look; his integrity and wisdom stand out (probably because, let’s face it, finding a current member of the House about whom you might use those words would be incredibly difficult).
Now when a chum of mine posted the above quote on facebook, it instantly became my favourite, and my blog-imagination went into overdrive. I can see a parenting lesson in pretty much anything, and this statement is no exception.
Parenting is a constant careful treading through a mass of moral mazes. It is incredibly easy to get blown about by the weather under your family roof. Stand too long at the school gate, read Mumsnet for more than fifteen minutes, watch too many episodes of Supernanny – and you’ll feel a little windswept. Referee between fighting siblings for 20 mins. Tell you teenage daughter she can’t go to a nightclub while under 18, no matter that her friends are going. Refuse to purchase 200 quid trainers for your 11 year old son. You get the picture – and the strong breeze blowing at your back. Wave after wave of low pressure clouds and swirling storms circle round your humble head. You inch your way forward, feeling in the semi-darkness. There are easy ways out, paths of least resistance. But – and here’s the thing – they leave you swinging this way and that, and give your kids a less than consistent picture. They make you a weathercock.
Being a parent-signpost takes guts. It requires you to take the long view, to know that however much flak you’re getting, one day, your decision will be shown as the right one. It will mean, as it did for Tony, that you will spend time on the margins, nay, the wilderness even. But it will also mean that your kids respect you for your consistency, your integrity, and your independence of thought and spirit. Sometimes, when a debate between our girl and myself is reaching epic proportions, I say “Mummy’s job is to help you grow up to be the best person you can be, and that is why I am saying you must do x, or y, or z”. It always feels like my last best defence – like I’ve got nothing left in the tanks. From now on though, thanks to Tony, I’m going to feel rather better about using that line.
I don’t suppose for one moment that our children will agree with my world-view in it’s entirety. If I can throw in a little humour and humility, as I tread the path, that won’t matter much. But I will want to always be to them a signpost; a parent on whom they can rely for some steady guidance and an idea of which way to go. Thanks for showing me the way, Mr Benn…
