I was the middle child in an Hispanic family, the one wedged
between the oldest son and the baby daughter. A lot was excused from an oldest
son, and who could resist the cuteness of a baby sister?
Me? I was the
proverbial chopped liver – lonely and abused.
I was also the oldest daughter in an Hispanic family. I was expected to learn how to do household
chores and learn how to cook. I was the little mama, the one who helps with the
younger siblings. Oh yay!
My parents had high expectations for all of us. Both of them were highly intelligent, and
they suspected the same from us, so they demanded nothing less than A’s in
school. They sometimes overlooked my
brother’s B’s (cabeza dura), but I was hounded and condemned to hours of study
if I dared to bring home anything less than a straight A.
My parents, especially my mother, didn’t care where or when
she scolded me. Often it was out in public – in front of my friends or
classmates, loud enough for everyone to hear and see. A proud and independent child, I resented
being corrected in public. It only increased my rebellion and determination to
get out of there as soon as I could.
I decided I would never have children. But I did – three of my
own.
What did I learn from my upbringing?
One, regardless of birth order and how easily it can be to
play favorites, don’t. Give time and be
fair and equal to all the children. All three
of mine had equal amounts of responsibilities but I also shared my time with
each of them.
Two, it is okay to have expectations from each one. An education is non-negotiable. So is going to church. I tried to impress on
my three that school is not just a social hangout; we also want a good
transcript and a diploma. If A’s were not accessible, then a passing grade
would do (but I knew what to expect from them).
Three, I never corrected them out in public. We waited until we were in private – our home,
the car, or the closest public rest room. If they hoped and prayed I would forget by the
time we got to some place private, their prayer was never granted.
I hated being a middle child.
I hated being ignored except for when it came to chores or responsibilities.
It broke my heart to see my parents lavish attention on my brothers and sisters
and treat me less. Because of it, I am aware of when it happens to others.
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