As I said in my last post, skepticism is a tool, one of many we can use as parents. I have found it to be one of the more valuable tools, but it remains just a tool.
We can use it to evaluate claims made to us, the claims we parents hear on a daily basis. We can use it to explain the world to ourselves and our children, explanations that are based in reality rather than myth and tradition.
But it is still only a tool.
When I was talking with the story consultant, she suggested that I examine my own insecurities, see if they were the reason for the story I was writing in this blog.
My insecurities in a society that doesn’t yet value stay-at-home dads, my insecurities as a new parent, these were what underlay my choice in writing a blog about skeptical parenting. I used my skepticism as armor, a way to protect myself from the slings and arrows of an outlandish culture.
Researching and reviewing claims had taken up most of my free time. It gave me a sense of control, a feeling that I knew what I was doing, when in fact I mostly relied on instinct and common sense, two other tools in the parenting toolbox.
When I told Diane what I had discovered, that she was right, that perhaps I had picked skepticism as a subject due to my insecurities, she offered nothing but support.
“I’m so happy you were with me on where I was heading with that…. Sounds as if there might be room to explore your experiences and perceptions [of at-home fatherhood].
“You’ve got a real gold mine of material there, my friend.”
But how to extract it, in this niche of skepticism?
I am a skeptic, but I am not only a skeptic. I am a father, but not just a father. I am a stay-at-home parent, but that is not all that I am. Like everyone else, I contain multitudes.
Diane wrapped up our session by telling me, “the most important question to ask yourself is, ‘What am I writing, and why am I the person to be writing it?’”
Next post: Wherein This Story Ends
(cross-posted at domestic father)
Comments on this entry are closed.