In publishing 'JFK: Reckless Youth' almost twenty years ago, I had gotten into trouble myself with the Kennedys. Not because of my portrait of JFK - which was highly laudatory - but because I had described his parents, Joseph P. Kennedy and Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy, in less-than-flattering terms.
Caring about the welfare of children and shaming parents are mutually exclusive endeavors.
Growing up, I was watched by my parents and strongly critiqued. Instead of saying they loved me or showing physical attention, they would joke that I had a Roman nose - that it was roamin' all over my face. Teasing was their way of showing love, but then you are young, sometimes you can't tell the difference.
One day my dad said, "If you guys ever stop singing, I'll drop you like a hot potato." That's what he said. It hurt me. You don't say that to children and I never forgot it.
It's always going to have an effect when your father comes up and scolds you in front of a lot of people.
Stern and critical, my father couldn't accept how feminine and dainty I was in comparison to my rough-and-tumble brother.
It's not your responsibility to comment on parenting for others. I would hate if someone did that to me.
My dad was very critical and had very high expectations without a lot of the details filled in. It was, 'I expect you to achieve greatness in grades, in athletics, in whatever you do.'
You must be a terrible burden to your mother. I am feeling so sorry for her not to have a proper daughter." Mrs. Apusenja - To the Nines
As one boy said, 'I was thinking all these horrible thoughts about my parents when suddenly it hit me-if they're all that bad, how come I'm so wonderful'
I can see how the young girls really get hurt when their moms are critical, or vice versa when they're overly critical of their moms. It can be so painful.
The moment you have kids, you are prey to judgment, but you also become a judge. You find yourself going, "Can you believe what she did with such-and-such?" at school.
My parent are very proud, but Dad ripped into me for throwing a club on the 11th. He's happy with the way I played, but he always has to have something to moan about!
My father said that I was lower than a dog, because even a dog believes in God.
My mom to this day is the hardest coach I've ever had. There were times when my stepdad would look at me and say 'you had a good game' and my mom would be like 'I don't know what you're talking about, you had 2 or 3 turnovers.
My father told me that if I ever did anything artistic, I was going to look like a hooker. I told him, 'With these huge boobs that I inherited from your mother, I already look like a hooker!'
Dad and I did not care at all for your story in The New Yorker … [I]t does seem, dear, that this gloomy kind of story is what all you young people think about these days. Why don't you write something to cheer people up?
I could be winning the decathlon in high school, which I've won twice, yet, if my dad is in the audience, 'Oh look! It's Anthony Quinn.' And I'm like, 'Hello? Kid just got a gold medal. Hello? I'm over here.'
When Jane and I spoke out, people thought, What ungrateful children those two kids are to be that nasty about their father.
Children can be harsh judges when it comes to their parents, disinclined to grant clemency.
My dad can be pretty critical sometimes.
As a teacher myself I've been in situations where parents come at you, and sometimes parents come across like the teacher doesn't want the best for their kid and it can be really, really hurtful.
They may already know too much about their mother and father--nothing being more factual than divorce, where so much has to be explained and worked through intelligently (though they have tried to stay equable). I've noticed this is often the time when children begin calling their parents by their first names, becoming little ironists after their parents' faults. What could be lonelier for a parent than to be criticized by his child on a first-name basis?
There were times when our dad was awesomely good with us, but my biggest and most abiding memory is that he would look more to our faults than to our strengths.
'He is very ugly,' said his mother.
