“The one thing we don’t lack is people playing roles.” – James (Mamba) McCuller
There once were three Michael’s, all of whom were held out to the world as role models. They were praised and paraded before us through the media and by public officials, even Wall Street shot callers. Then these Michael’s started to change. Two went to prison and the other got tagged with the most hated of labels: child molester. Their full names are Michael Tyson, Michael Milken and Michael Jackson. They were role models, that is, before they were shown to also be human. Guilty or not, they now no longer qualify in the eyes of society. Parents today do not encourage their children to go out and be like them anymore.
Even more twisted is the saga of Pee Wee Herman. One minute parents almost religiously place their children in front of television sets to watch Pee Wee, the next minute they bumrush the television network demanding that Pee Wee be canceled. All because Paul Rubens was shown to be human. What a precarious, fleeting thing this role model business. Role model today; scoundrel tomorrow. What kind of message does this send to our children? The main one, obviously, is that in order to be a role model you must be perfect. You certainly can’t be human and do the job because the first thing any alleged role model will admit is that they are not perfect. So, confusion reigns in children’s minds as they continue to see their role models drop like flies; the Michael’s, Spiro Agnew, Vanessa Williams, Rob Lowe, Jesse Jackson, Robert Blake, Bill Clinton, Winona Ryder and more recently, Lance Armstrong, Kwame Kilpatrick, R. Kelly, Martha Stewart and the many ensnared by the MeToo Movement.
The list is endless and it’s not just high profile people we admire and emulate today. This role model falsehood has been playing out since the very founding of our nation. George Washington is regarded as a great leader and patriot; a lover of liberty and our first president. He also owned human beings and is known to have traded one for a mere keg of molasses. Is he a role model?
History and celebrities aside, the most tragic consequence of role model criteria is that for most children it rules out practically everyone they will ever know. Can you imagine how barren the landscape is for African American children when they internalize that people who drink, use drugs, gamble, cheat on their spouses or go to prison can’t possibly be role models to them? To them a role model is someone you should aspire to be like. Isn’t that what we tell them? Well, when our children reflect back to us and roll back the video tape of all the people we labeled role models and then snatched back from them, all I can say is “Lucy, you got some splainin’ to do.”
It’s time we free ourselves from the straight-jacket of role model and the way to start is to delete the word “role.” Roles end when the camera stops. Roles end when we leave our jobs and go home. The only role that we’re locked into for life is the role of being human. Next we keep the word “model” because modeling is something we can’t not do. We model behavior in everything we do: getting dressed, grooming, eating, speaking, driving, dancing, playing sports – whatever. From the lifestyles we live to the activities we engage in, if there are eyes on us we are modeling for those eyes. Simply negotiating with life and all that it throws at us sideways we are forced to model some kind of behavior to resolve the conflict, interaction or whatever it happens to be. This is “life modeling.”
Living life and playing roles are two different things and in the course of a lifetime the only real modeling capable to us is the living of that life. We can only strive to be “life models” to our children, not some ill-defined, impossible character that better not get caught being fallible or human. A life model is one who models how to live the best life they can as a human being. They get back up after being knocked down and they rise above adversity. They grow, they change and they constantly pursue self-betterment. They make mistakes, but they own them and correct them. They kick drug habits and regain custody of children they lost because of it. They come home from prisons to lead hard working lives and provide for their families. All in all they exemplify the one thing that being a role model could never truly offer: redemption.
Disgraced role models seldom reappear without the haunting black cloud of their fall from grace hanging over them, but most reappear nonetheless and prove to be excellent “life models” and excellent human beings. They teach us that it’s not how far you fall or how many times you make a mistake that matters, but how you pick yourself up, accept responsibility for your behavior, make amends where possible and get back to the business of living a life that guarantees only that more mistakes lie ahead. The key is to not make the same mistakes and to get help where needed. This is the only kind of modeling that ensures children can forever look to their parents, relatives, neighbors and fellow human beings for much to emulate; not the select, perfect few “role models” who only remain so until such time they too are exposed as human.