PSYCHIC FRIENDS CAN LIMIT CHILDREN'S ASPIRATIONS

It's human nature to try to predict what a child will be when he grows up. We generally base our assumptions on the child's physical appearance or quirky little habits, and if the prediction holds true, we like to think we had a part in it.

For example, I'm sure everybody in Michael Jordan's family and hometown knew that the man was an extraordinary athlete and role model waiting to happen years before he became a Bull. When he was just a year old, they probably said he was testing the air patterns when he ran with his tongue out, and those giant leaps he took off of somebody's bed were preparations for the dunking maneuvers that earned him the nickname Air Jordan.

At least, that's what they'll tell you now.

I don't like to hear people categorize children on the basis of physical appearance, mainly because I think it's limiting and somewhat prejudicial. Whether we mean it or not, what we say has a permanent affect on children, so we owe it to them to think twice before voicing careless observations.

I hate it when people look at Jerry and say "He's going to be a fullback" or "He's going to make Mom some money one day playing ball." Maybe so, but physique is only one part of the whole athlete, and there are many other jobs that also produce large incomes without the safety factor.

Instead of looking at his thick, compact size, why can't the psychics see the way Jerry pays attention to detail and notices things too small for the adult eye to pick up and get out of reach? In my mind, that kind of behavior is more indicative of a surgeon, or a mathematician, or even an interior decorator than an athlete.

And what about fat children, or those with super-thick glasses? We've all heard people make predictions about these children that were based on their appearance. These are always the future cooks, computer nerds, and writers, because they look the part. Maybe they will develop interests in these areas, but I think some foster these interests mainly because they think they're supposed to.

When I was born, the delivering physician told my mom she had a basketball player, but it was a girl. He suggested the family move to Sikeston to help the home team. I continued to grow up and out from that point, and eventually I did play basketball. Mainly because I wanted to, but partly because every time someone new met me, that was the first thing out of their mouths.

"I bet you're a good basketball player," they would say in awe as they gazed at my feet, legs, arms, hands and finally, my head. "How tall are you, anyway?" Then they'd throw in the kicker: "You're a big girl, too. I bet you don't have any problem on the court."

I didn't really have a problem on the court, except the bad feeling I felt every time one of the girls on the other team dropped the ball or double-dribbled simply because she approached the insurmountable wall that was me.

Oddly, few other people had predictions about my future career. Our doctor saw a basketball player, but women didn't have a professional league when I entered the workplace, and I wouldn't have made it even if they did. Other people looked at my glasses and my grade-point average and decided I'd be a writer or a teacher. Why these professions: Because I looked the part.

It's amazing how much humans, and especially children, shape their lives around the expectations of others. Knowing this, we should be very careful with the predictions and observations we voice in front of children. Instead of giving them negative or stereotypical visions to aspire to, encourage them to think positive and be different.

If you don't want a nation of failed athletes or unhappy workers, this is where it starts. If we minimize our input and encourage hard work and big dreams, our children can be the captains of their many varied destinies.