"Are you Rick's sister?"
I heard this question many times on the first day of elementary and junior high school classes as the teacher called roll. It was not a good omen.
My brother, three years older than me, left a trail of disruption and mischief in his wake as he advanced from grade to grade. Although his reputation improved when he got to high school (where his athleticism made him a hot property on the track and football teams), the instructors and staff members he encountered along the way had long memories.
This meant that even though I was a quiet student who got good grades and caused little concern, I had to work extra-hard to overcome an unanticipated family legacy of being a troublemaker that was left behind by my brother.
It didn't take long for those in charge to figure out I wasn't created in my brother's image, but it quelled any urge in me to show spirit and leadership--let alone defiance--in those classrooms. Standing out didn't seem like a good strategy in dealing with teachers, administrators, other kids, and their parents.
So I learned to be private, self-contained, predictable, and manageable. No critical teacher notes were sent to my parents, no after-school detentions were doled out, and there was no hanging around with the rowdier cohort on the playground.
It wasn't until high school that I broke loose (just a little, like getting sent to the principal's office for wearing too-short miniskirts) but remained obsessed with high grade point averages, college applications, part-time jobs, keeping track of what I wore each day (luckily I could sew) and in general not being a pain in anybody's backside.
Family legacies can be the stuff of pride and tradition. Or not. They can be meticulously planned, or incredibly haphazard. Many doctors and lawyers are the children of parents in the same professions, even if they don't share their parents' enthusiasm or talent for the work. (I love the old joke: What do you call the guy who graduates last in his medical class? Answer: Doctor.)
Then there were all the online wisecracks that crowded social media after the death of Queen Elizabeth, a member of a renowned family that is all about tradition and legacy and heritage and birthright. Among them is a meme, referring to the newly anointed British monarch, that reads: 73-Year-Old Man Finally Gets Job.
Every family creates legacies, says relationship therapist Dr. Robert Navarra. The Online Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines legacy as something transmitted by or received from an ancestor or predecessor or from the past. There are different kinds, he says: the good, the bad and the ugly. "Some we strive to maintain, others we struggle with. If we think about some of these legacies long enough, we may come to see some as destructive, undermining our relationship."
Positive legacies, he continues, "involve family traditions we have experienced in our family of origin and want to bring into our own relationships," such as ways we celebrate holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, take care of sick family members, and approach vacations. "These kinds of legacies truly are gifts from our ancestors, predictable rituals of connection and family life."
Recently, he continues, "some couples I am working with addressed some painful legacies from their families: alcoholism, rage, and emotional aloofness, to name three. These discussions were important because these legacies were unnoticed and unnamed detours, shaping behaviors, views, and perspectives of themselves and their relationships. ... Decisions to do things differently offer hope for change and tools to establish new rituals and traditions."
I guess he's saying that you're not doomed to endure legacies that are troublesome to your well-being. It's impossible to figure out why my brother's tendency toward misconduct dominated his approach to life; he definitely wasn't copying behavior observed in my parents or our older sister.
Yet my parents, like many others, probably didn't give much thought to creating an atmosphere of camaraderie and socially acceptable behavior. They pretty much followed their immigrant parents' patterns and did the best they could, not giving consideration to starting new rituals. (The worst I can recall of their child-rearing skills came when my 8-year-old self would ask why I couldn't do something or other that my brother was allowed to do; their responses were "Because I said so." There was none of that "Go ask your mother/father.")
Why the results of their parenting influences were so different for their son than for their daughters is anybody's guess.
My brother didn't intend to create the legacy he left for me. He was just being himself, which in many ways has little to do with legacies. I just wish he had been a little better at it.
Karen Martin is senior editor of Perspective.
kmartin@arkansasonline.com