Raising Grateful Kids in an Entitled World

That's where I met Vincent. I will never forget standing in Vincent's home, which was the size of my master closet. Water dripped on my head in the dark room as he lit a candle and explained how he walked an hour to school each way and cared for his little brother because his parents were both dead. As he told us about his life, he smiled from ear to ear with joy. How can you be so happy? I asked as I looked around at all he didn't have. I have Jesus. He is enough, he answered confidently. His answer was my undoing, because I had Jesus too, but he wasn't enough for me. I wanted more, more money, more stuff, more to fill the emptiness. That's the day I started my quest for contentment, and found it not in building my American dream, but in giving it away. Returning to my little world, I was surrounded by people who wanted the best of everything, cars, homes, education, jobs, and it didn't take long for us to join them. But now my kids felt it too, this pressure to keep up and be like everyone else. They didn't want to be the deprived ones. They didn't want to feel different. That's what happens when you live in a place where everyone is just like you. You begin to compare yourself to those you're around, and that becomes your world. It had happened to me, and now I was watching it happen to my kids. Suddenly my third grader and first grader were asking for certain brands of clothes, lavish toys, and expensive electronics. They wanted what they saw everyone else had. I had fed the entitlement beast, and now it was hungry for more. In my 2014 parenting poll, when I asked parents if they felt their kids acted entitled at times, a whopping 93% said yes. This anonymous comment really stood out to me. My kids think that certain benefits will be afforded them based on what they see peers receiving for nothing. Their statements of expectation are both naive and straightforward. They don't question that they will receive a smartphone or a car someday. They believe it is a right of childhood, based on their experience in the world. In the less than 7% who didn't feel their kids were entitled, several parents answered, aren't we all? And still others answered that selfishness is the American way. Their comments made me realize that in some ways we expect our kids to be selfish. It's part of our sin nature that others refer to simply as human nature. It's our job to teach our children to be different from their natural bent toward sin. In her series of posts on Stuff, Satisfaction, and the Suburban Child, blogger and Bible teacher Jen Wilkin says, We moved to the suburbs, like most young families, because they were affordably safe. Our suburban neighbors, with the help of dual incomes, starting families later in life, smaller family sizes, and ample credit limits, are able to afford much more than physical safety for themselves and their children. Hence, the 1st grader with the cell phone, the 4th grader with the eye touch, the 7th grader with the $300 purse and professionally colored hair, the 16-year-old with the Mustang GT. The clothes, vacations, parties, electronics, and activities which surround the suburban child make our own childhoods look downright deprived. But most parents are happy to forget that stripped-down upbringing. They take satisfaction in knowing that they have given their children more than was given to them. Ironically, the affordable safety of the suburbs turns out to be neither affordable nor safe. The price tag for chasing our children's material desires will be far higher than the total on our credit card statements. As Christian parents, we must think clearly about what our spending patterns teach our children. When I was in 6th grade, I remember I wanted a pair of guest jeans more than I wanted my mom to stop giving me home perms. Jeans were status. They were the key to fitting in at school, or so I thought. I begged and pleaded, but my parents wouldn't, and probably couldn't, fork over the $50 to make me happy. Instead, my mom bought me an off-brand look-alike pair with a similar triangle patch on the back pocket. But instead of the word guess on the patch, my knock-off pair had the word tropics. So I did what every desperate 12-year-old girl does.