Hate the Smoke, Not the Smoker

While walking with my family in Old Town this summer, we passed a man who puffed a cloud of smoke from his mouth. Sophia asked me, “Why do people smoke?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they want to get lung cancer,” I answered sarcastically.

Sophia stopped in her tracks. “Why would someone WANT to get cancer?” she asked, her face contorted as only a 6-year-old’s can.

My answer was probably a bit harsh, and I’m not sure it helped Sophia, who normally avoids cigarette smoke like the plague, understand my point. But our exchange got me thinking. While it’s vital to teach our kids about the possible effects of certain choices, it’s equally important to separate the actor from the act. How can parents educate kids on making good choices without vilifying a person who already made a bad one?

With all the information made available over the past couple of decades — including large-type warnings on the outside of every package of cigarettes — it’s common knowledge that smoking is a health hazard. Today’s children are educated early on the consequences of lighting up: lung disease, cardiovascular problems, cancer and bad oral hygiene, to name a few. But for those who started many years ago, smoking can be hard to stop. Like alcohol and fast food, tobacco and nicotine are addictive.

It can also be challenging to convey to kids, who tend to be more black-and-white than adults, that just because a person has a bad habit doesn’t make him a bad person. I don’t want my children to grow up believing that we judge a person based only on certain actions instead of on the total package of personality. No one, after all, is without flaws. And smoking, while dangerous and irritating to the senses, is merely one of a number of life choices many people make every day.

Certainly, more egregious crimes can warrant a cautious approach to picking whom to associate with, but there is a huge gray area. We all know a smoker or two. Chances are, the vast majority of them are simply regular people who happen to have a bad habit. For the ones I know, smoking doesn’t detract from their otherwise high moral character.

The same can be said about those who drink alcohol and, for that matter, anyone with a few irritating personality traits. (My kids regularly point out that I am weirder than most parents, so I’m included.) We are all subject to the same occasional judgments on our less attractive qualities. And none of us is worse than another because of them.

Sophia still grimaces and pinches her nostrils when she passes someone smoking on the street. Words like “gross” and “disgusting” often escape her mouth, sometimes louder than Tanya and I would appreciate. I’m happy she has developed such a strong aversion to cigarette smoke; hopefully, she’ll be less likely to take up the habit when she’s older. But there is a big difference between a cigarette and a smoker.

Jobs: Money or Service?

Standing outside with my daughters and their friend Rachel a couple of weeks ago, the familiar summer sound of approaching chimes made us look to the street. As an ice cream truck drove by, Rachel remarked, “He doesn’t look so happy.”

“How can you not be happy,” asked Ella, my 9-year-old, “when you’re driving an ice cream truck?”

“Maybe he doesn’t like his job,” I replied.

Sophia, Ella’s 6-year-old sister, said, “How is that possible?”

The conversation got me thinking about a common issue that most adults have to deal with. When kids inquire about why we work and whether we enjoy our job, should we explain our true feelings?

In theory, driving a truck filled with ice cream and distributing sweet goodness to eager children everywhere seems like a rewarding job. The same goes for any career where a person truly enjoys what they’re doing, from treating the sick to managing finances to fixing a car. But let’s face it: Jobs give us the money we need to live, and doing what we really love doesn’t always pay the bills.

My daughters sometimes complain about Tanya and me having to work and not being able to hang out as a family. Sadly, my first instinct isn’t always to tell them that people are depending on me. I usually give the standard spiel about paying the mortgage or buying food or being able to take vacations.

I’d love to tell Ella and Sophia that the main reason I work is to contribute to society. But it’s not completely true. One of the most important lessons for children to learn is that having a steady job is important, as it translates to a steady stream of income. Quite often, that means doing something you might not enjoy or working when you’d rather be playing. We’ve all been there, whether it’s the part-time job as a teenager flipping burgers or the one you take until something better comes around.

I enjoy being a physical therapist. I help people, I have fun with my co-workers, and I make enough money to pay the bills. Writing also makes me happy, even though I’ll confess I don’t get paid for everything I publish. (Thankfully, I don’t have to depend on writing to make a living.) But on those days when I’d rather be at home or hiking a trail, I wonder if others notice my attitude like Rachel noticed the ice cream truck driver.

Tanya and I want our children to choose professions that make them happy. Otherwise, they’ll spend large parts of their lives being miserable, no matter how much money they make. The parent’s challenge is to demonstrate that going to work can be rewarding and enjoyable (most of the time) while still producing the necessary wage to live a comfortable life. It’s a tough middle ground.

I still wonder if the ice cream truck driver’s kids asked him if he had a good day at work. I’m even more curious if he answered honestly.