Unequal Childhoods - Annette Lareau [31]
Ms. Tallinger also enjoys being playful with her sons, as the following example shows:
In his bedroom, [Garrett] stands close to her, eye to eye, goofing around, looking right into her eyes, and then lifting his hands so his palms are pressing up against her palms. She plays along, not pushing him. She does it three times and laughs.
This evolves into a game of stare-down:
[Garrett] says, “Stare at me. Stare-down? And see who blinks first?” She says, “Okay.” They stand, palm to palm, staring intently. Louise blinks first and moves away; they both laugh. He says, “Want to do it again?” She does it again, and they both hold it for about fifteen seconds and then, once again, she looks away. He laughs quietly, but pleased; she laughs also.
Quiet moments occur, too. One early morning, for instance, while he is still sleepy, Garrett slides his arm around his father’s waist and stands next to him in the doorway to his parents’ bedroom. Mr. Tallinger, dressed in a blue-and-white bathrobe, puts his arm around his son’s shoulders. The two remain peacefully entwined for a few moments.
Periods of informal play and quiet moments between family members generally take place at the margins, however. The centerpiece of the Tallinger children’s lives is their organized activities. These activities reach into the core of family life. Piano, soccer, baseball, and basketball become conversational focal points, both with parents and with visiting adult friends and relatives. For children like Garrett, who are not talkative by nature, exchanges related to organized activities can be short. For example, after the first practice for Intercounty soccer, Mr. Tallinger and Garrett “discuss” the new season as they come home in the car:
DON: So, how’s coach Money?
GARRETT: Good.
DON: Did he talk to you at all, or just drill you?
GARRETT: Drills.
DON: Did he say anything about positions?
GARRETT: No.
Aside from a question Mr. Tallinger asks about who the “ball hog” is, this exchange constitutes the sum total of father-son interaction during the fifteen-minute ride home.
Garrett is capable of warm, intimate exchanges with both of his parents, but this kind of dialogue occurs infrequently. More common are conversations like the one with Mr. Tallinger, described above, and the one with Ms. Tallinger, described below. Notice that although Garrett and his mother make a clear emotional connection as they talk, the subject of their conversation is drawn from an activity of Garrett’s:
(Louise sits on the edge of Garrett’s bed; her arms are on his chest. Spencer is sleeping in his brother’s room that night, to free a bedroom for the visiting field-worker. The room is dark, except for the light coming from the hallway. Louise and Garrett are discussing songs from the spring concert in which Garrett had performed earlier that evening.)
MOM: Oh, you know what? I confused “From a Distance” [with] that song you sang tonight, “From Where I Stand.” I got it confused with “From a Distance,” which is a Bette Midler song.
GARRETT: What does it sound like?
MOM (starts singing): From a distance — (breaks off, laughs, starts to sing and stops; can’t remember) — I don’t remember. You know your mother!
SPENCER (teasing): From a distance, I don’t remember the words.
MOM: It’s a great song.
They chat some about which teachers did and did not take part in the concert, and then say good night.
CONCERTED CULTIVATION: LOVE’S LABORS MULTIPLIED
Children’s activities create substantial work for their parents. Parents fill out enrollment forms, write checks, call to arrange car pools, wash uniforms, drive children to events, and make refreshments. In the Tallinger family, these tasks are regularly doubled, depending on which boy is doing what. Simply getting ready for an activity—collecting the equipment, organizing the children, loading the car—can be exhausting.
For adults, in addition to the labor of preparing, there is the labor of watching. During one chilly evening in May, Mr. Tallinger, who had flown back home on the midnight “red eye,